first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 13, 2015
I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop, so if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues-
To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.
For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here There are now over 398!
Help a playwright and get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -
How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day # 404 by Janet S. Tiger Where's My Thank You Note! March 23, 2015
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where's My Thank you Note!
(opening scene from a one-act of the same name)
by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2015 all rights
tigerteam1@gmail.com
(Stage lights up to see an older woman wearing white gloves to complement her purse and shoes,
She also has a hat, which she wears with great aplomb. She is
knocking firmly at the door of a room in a fleabag motel. She stops, listens. No response. She pounds on now, still nothing. Finally, it sounds as
if a hammer is hitting the door and she hears something inside)
Jeffrey! Open this door immediately!
It is your grandmother!
Open this door immediately or I will call the hotel manager and inform him that you are ill and he is to call the police!
(Listens)
I do not care if you are dressed! I changed your diaper when you were a baby, I do not care if I see your wingle now! Open this door.....NOW!
(The door opens and she storms in, she is furious)
Well, this is a fine way to treat your grandmother! And don't tell me you didn't know I was coming, I sent you a letter. (Thinks) Or maybe you just didn't read it....
(She takes her cane and poke a pile of trash)
I am not here to castigate you. Rest assured I am also not here to convince you to return home.
(Listens)
It is very simple what I am asking you to do. I am asking you to sit
down, this minute and write me a thank you. It doesn't get much simpler
than that, my boy.
You are still my boy, aren't you?
(Listens, hint of a smile)
So then you understand me completely. Here's a pen and paper.....I
brought them with me as I had extreme doubts that this superior
establishment where you now reside carries such amenties in the drop
drawer.
(She looks around the room and shakes her head)
But your choice of habituation is your decision, as you are of
majority age now, but your choice not to send me a proper thank you,
that is not acceptable.
(She waves her hand to dismiss his response)
I have no interest in your prediliction for progressively
self-destructive behavior, I am only interested in receiving what is
rightfully mine - a thank you note for the gift I sent you for your
birthday.
And I also have no interest in what you did with
that gift, whether you enjoyed it, lost it, sold it to buy drugs that
will intensify your slide into complete and utter ruin, or still have it
in an unopened box - I am only interested in......are you listening to
me, Jeffrey? .....a thank you note.
(Laughs) Now that's interesting. You can't remember! It was a check. From the trust fund your grandfather and I set up for you when you were born. A check in the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
When do you think I sent it, Jeffrey? When is your birthday? (Nods, waiting) So glad you can remember! Yes, the third of June. An almost summer baby. That's what we called
children born in June, but before the 21st. Almost summer babies.
Today? (A tiny bit kinder) It's Sept. 30th.
Unlike the friends you have now associated with, I do not lie. Today is the last day of September. 30 days hath.
It appears as if you have lost an entire summer, which, in a lifetime, won't mean much, but now, as it stands, is definitely noteworthy.
Why did I come? I find it hard to believe you still have no idea. I came because......(hard to say)
because your parents are still grieving your untimely - and, to be accurate - the inaccurate reporting of your demise.
It appears as if one of your reprobate
associates borrowed your birthday check while you were in a state of, shall we
say, inebriation......and, it appears..... this aforementioned associate found the gift I sent, and cashed it himself.
It also appears as if one day, after
purchasing and ingesting some form of psychedelic medicine...he was walking, in a
state of some type of hallucination, and was hit by a trolley that was
unable to stop in time.
The police said he probably
thought the trolley was part of the dream. I imagine the man driving
that trolley now has many unusual dreams, none of them pleasant. But I
digress. Because of the fact that, when a trolley which is made of tons
of steel hurtling down a track at fifty miles an hour, hits something
made out of skin and bones and flesh, how shall I put this politely? He
was splattered like a bug on a windshield.
Your identification was found on his body, and it was assumed
that...well, I'm sure you can understand the mistake. Now, if your
brain is working at all, you might be wondering how I found you. (Takes a deep breath) My boy, I
just could not believe you were dead. I would have known, in my heart, and I
.....(almost gets emotional, stops herself)....wanted proof. So I paid
a very unsavory gentleman more money than he was worth, but he turned
out to be worth every penny, as he found you, and now, I am here. Not
to tell you what to do with your life - you are an adult, and have
chosen your path. Not to tell you to contact your parents - I will do
that out of courtesy to their sorrow and pain.
No, I am here for one reason only, and that is.......to get my long overdue thank you note!
So, for the sake of both our lives to continue........here is the pen.......I will sit here and wait....
(She goes to a chair and sits)
...and remember! If there are any mistakes, I will make you do it over!
(She goes to a chair and sits)
...and remember! If there are any mistakes, I will make you do it over!
(Blackout. End of scene)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Janet S. Tiger
858-736-6315
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
1 comment:
That one ran the gamut of emotions. Can't imagine where the rest of the play will go, but I like the monologue!
Post a Comment