A little play I never tried to get produced

Harold- A middle aged man
Carol- A young woman
Bartender-Tends the bar
Harold and Carol are sitting at a table at a bar.
Harold: You know you should keep one eye on the present and one on the past. But I only have the one eye; all I see is the past. It’s like living in a dream. I can’t wake up.
(Order a shot. The bartender brings it to him. Harold drinks it quickly. Hence forth whenever Harold orders another shot this happens.)
Carol: And why are you telling me this? It isn’t like I can wake you up. Whatever that metaphor means…
Harold: …It isn’t a metaphor.
Carol: So you’re living in a dream? From the looks of you it looks more like a nightmare.
Harold: There isn’t much anyone can do. I am just talking, lots you know? Have you had any drinks yet?
Carol: No, and don’t pretend this is some great journey of self discovery. This is a bar for crying out loud.
Harold: Crying out loud, now that’s something I could get into right now. I can’t remember the last time I cried but it seems like such great alternative to offing myself.
Carol: Oh stop being so melodramatic. And let up with the I am a tough guy with a troubled past act.
Harold: What are you talking about?
(Orders another shot)
Carol: You’ve been acting so long that you’ve fallen for your own antics.
Harold: What about you? You’re Miss I’ve Been Around the Block so I can tell you what’s up like psychologist without the degree.
Carol: Never had a chance to go get ahead in life…
Harold: Trouble past too I see.
Carol: Stop gloating.
Harold: I just like making fun of you.
Carol: (Pause) How did you lose that eye any ways?
Harold: I was born without it.
Carol: That was a letdown.
Harold: Would it make you feel better if I told you some guy tore it out of my head?
Carol: And why would anyone do that?
Harold: Well I have a shadowy past. Which involve a lot of illegal activity. All sorts of shady business.
Carol: Why don’t I just take that for granted?
Harold: You do that. Now tell me something about yourself. How are you so well versed in the ways of humanity? Offer me some insight into human nature.
Carol: Well I lived in the slums. I never had enough to eat. I had an abusive father…
Harold: …Should I be crying you a river?
(Orders another shot)
Carol: Don’t interrupt… Hey didn’t you say you wanted to cry?
Harold: That’s so unmanly.
Carol: Isn’t it time to shed the stereotypes?
Harold: Not until I make a self discovery about myself. But speak for yourself. Look at you. Acting tough when you’re really fragile but underneath that you’re resilient.
Carol: Hey buddy I don’t know you well enough to get into that.
Harold: What are you talking about? I’ve know you all my live.
Carol: Can one person really know another?
Harold: Oh great. This conversation is really being dominated by questions. Have you noticed that?
Carol: I’ve noticed a great deal of things.
Harold: Care to share?
Carol: Not yet.
Harold: Be that way.
Carol: I’ll be this way until you change me.
Harold: I don’t want to change you.
Carol: Then you and I are dancing to different drums.
Harold: Ok.
(Orders another shot)
Carol: What are we doing here?
Harold: I think we’re trying to out cliché each other.
Carol: No I mean…
Harold: Yeah… I know what you mean.
Carol: Do you really?
Harold: I can take a guess. Maybe.
Carol: Ok
Harold: Alright, I really don’t know what you mean. What are you having a mid life crisis or something?
Carol: Maybe… One life ends another beings.
Harold: Don’t give me that, you’re not half way through your life.
(Orders another shot)
Carol: You don’t know how old I am do you?
Harold: I won’t guess that’d be rude.
Carol: Don’t be horrid.
Harold: I don’t understand.
Carol: Don’t you get it?
Harold: Not really.
Carol: I feel like telling you.
Harold: Then tell me.
Carol: Nah, I don’t want to trap you.
Harold: I am witty guy, I’m sure that I could disarm any trap you lay out.
Carol: I don’t know what to say.
Harold: Don’t say anything at all, sometimes that’s best.
Carol: Let me riddle you this, why do you love me?
Harold: My heart didn’t give me a choice.
Carol: That’s sweet.
Harold: (Turns away from Carol) I wish it did though.
Carol: What did you just say?
Harold: I left everything that in this society gave me value. Like a sick man following the promise of a cure. But I only think this sometimes. I mean, yeah. I had job and left that. Had a wife and left her.
Carol: Aren’t you happy with me?
Harold: Well sure. You were the cure of my mid-life crisis. Hey aren’t you going to order any drinks tonight? They’re on me.
Carol: I can’t drink tonight.
Harold: Why not?
Carol: Can’t drink the night before an operation.