Topher Payne doesn’t seem like an angry fag. But then, at first glance, neither do Bennett Riggs and Cooper Harlow, the main characters of Payne’s new play, “Angry Fags,” opening Feb. 21 at 7 Stages Theatre.
They picnic in the park. They banter about cheese and wine. They tease each other about everything from letter writing to dating with the loving sarcasm gay men seem to have perfected.
Then they set off a bomb.
Topher Payne's latest play now running at 7 Stages Theatre
People tend to write about weddings in springtime, when the world is lush and green, bridal parties cover the steps of every house of worship like a taffeta amoeba. But by then it’s too late.
Those beautiful June weddings were planned in the gray, dreary days of winter — a perfects setting for tense negotiations over budgets and whether so-and-so is going to be your best man because there will be a bar at the reception and you know how he gets.
My husband and I were married a little over three years ago on a beach in Massachusetts. We called it “eloping to a disclosed location” because “destination wedding” implied we would be covering the cost for anyone but ourselves, which we had no interest in doing.
Playwright Topher Payne is known for his prolific writing and his quick wit, but in “Swell Party,” opening next week at Georgia Ensemble Theater, he has penned a personal first – a mystery.
The openly gay writer (and GA Voice columnist) had a successful world premiere at the Roswell-based theater a few years ago with his gay-themed comedy “Tokens of Affection,” and now he is back there with another new work.
When a tobacco heir returns to his Southern home with a new wife, it surprises everyone, but that news becomes secondary when the groom turns up dead. The rest of the guests at his home try to put the pieces of the puzzle together and figure out whodunit.
Well, it turns out the Mayans were just as reliable about predicting the end of our civilization as they were at predicting their own.
I was charitable enough to give them until the end of the year, but 2012 officially came to a close without any of the pyrotechnics promised by doomsday preppers or John Cusack collecting a paycheck. Oh well. Guess I’ll get to that laundry I was putting off.
When folks watch a movie like “2012” (which no one should) or a TV show like “Walking Dead” (which everyone should), they tend to put themselves in the shoes of the survivors, saying, “I’d get myself to an army base, because they’re totally secure and I could pig out on MREs.”
The latest "Domestically Disturbed" from Topher Payne
Topher Payne spins Southern whodunit inspired by true story
I cannot remember exactly when it started — late July, maybe? But one night I looked up from my work at four in the morning and said, “Aw hell, it’s better if I just don’t sleep.” I got a few extra hours of tasks accomplished, the sun rose, and I went on about my day.
Sure, I guzzled like five pots of coffee, and I was a little weepy and reactionary by sunset— I had an argument with the dog that I’m pretty sure I lost — but overall I was pleased with the number of things which got checked off the to-do list.
I recognized that, just for a little while, I’d scheduled more tasks than could actually be accomplished during normal human waking hours, and I might have to sneak in an all-nighter here and there to stay on top of everything.
The latest "Domestically Disturbed" from Topher Payne
We live in a part of town that people tend to pass through on their way to somewhere more desirable — the remnants of a once-picturesque 1950s suburb built around Avondale Mall.
That mall is now a Wal-Mart that managed to grow so sketchy in its brief existence that the Wal-Mart people decided to build another one less than five minutes away.
This is a model established to great success by other businesses in our area: Bad Wal-Mart is within spitting distance of Scary Wells Fargo, Don’t Go To That Kroger, and The Pizza Hut Where You Might Die.