Sunday, November 30, 2014

Monologue Mania Day #291 by Janet S. Tiger An Annoying Wine Nov. 30, 2014

 Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!
Note: A few words about 'free' -  all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty info.

 If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to 
http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - 
click here.
     For a list of the blurbs from each day,
 click here

Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - 
MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this sit
e

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #291 by Janet S. Tiger An Annoying Wine  Nov. 30, 2014 

                                                          An Annoying Wine
                                 A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved
                                                        tigerteam1@gmail.com 


              (The woman who enters is elegant, very well dressed, carrying a glass of wine and a bottle.  She smiles as she lifts the bottle to pour.)

Oh, Gregory, what a lovely evening!  I can't believe it's taken this long for us to get together like this.  You have such a beautiful home, I truly appreciate your allowing me to visit, make you dinner and even bring the wine....

            (She adds to her own glass, sets down the bottle.)

Let me propose a toast to Eleanor, the reason we are both here. A dear friend and a dead wife.

(Laughs)   No need to pretend, Gregory, we both know how you felt about her.  You were very clear, she was less than scintillating, worried too much about the children, and she had a voice that could make you cringe, as you put it, a most annoying whine.  So I lift a glass to her.....

            (She drains the glass, smiles, adds to it again.)

It is a fine vintage, isn't it?  And it goes so well with the spicy side of the barracuda tonight, don't you think?  I just love cajun.  So very New Orleans, expensive, yet with a touch of decadence.

            (She leans over, solicitous)

Having a little trouble getting up?  Must be the wine.  Well, actually, it was the wine.  Or rather what was in the wine.  You should know....or perhaps I should say Yew should know......there's a yew tree in your yard......what a shame some of those poisonous leaves must have been on my sleeves as I prepared our drinks.......
   
         (She drinks again, smiles)

And how unfortunate the needles only fell into your drink...... 

        (Leans over)

I'm sorry, it's getting so difficult to understand you, my dear.  I believe your cell phone is somewhere else, probably in the den.  Because I went to the bathroom while you were becoming so ill,  by the time I retrieve it, and call for help, I'm afraid you'll be gone, what a pity.  What a terrible pity.

Did you give Eleanor this much chance?  Was she still alive.... or did you just fling her dead body into the Atlantic,  out of that boat you had twenty-three years ago that she always hated?  Into the cold water, to be eaten by the denizens of the deep.  All these unanswered questions!  I had hoped you would clear them up...... even though your body is becoming paralyzed, your brain is still viable, you can just nod the answers if you don't want to speak.

          (She removes an envelope from a pocket.)

And I will make sure this will be found in a safe place.  On paper from years ago, paper I saved, and printed up your confession on, from that old printer you gave me after you purchased all new things with the insurance money after Eleanor was gone.  

           (She waves the envelope)

 Your confession, after all these years, written long ago, found now that you, too, are gone.

         (She is getting angry)

Did you truly think you could get away with it?  That no one cared at all?  Eleanor was more than a friend, she was a true friend.  Had she left here that day, she would have told me.  She might have left you....and she might have even left her children.  But she never would have left her purse behind.  A woman just doesn't do that.  No, I knew it then, and I know it now - you killed her, and they could never prove it.   

But at least now, your children will have some closure.  They deserve that, as they deserve to know exactly who their father was......

          (Listens, laughs)

If the poison didn't work?  (Laughs)  I have a revolver in my purse because you became violent when I confronted you about Eleanor.  But I don't think that will be necessary, you seem to be having such difficulty even standing up.....

          (Listens, shakes her head)

 Get away with this?  (Bitter)  Do you think I care if I get away with this?  If someone figures out what I did tonight, if being the main word ........it really doesn't matter....you see, I start chemotherapy on Monday.  If the chemotherapy doesn't kill me, and the 13 lesions on my brain and spine and kidneys don't kill me, then I'll worry about IF they catch me.  You see, Gregory, that's why I waited, for just the right time.  Why I stayed in touch, but not too close.  Waiting for just this minute......and now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go powder my nose......

          (She turns to leave, stops, looks back, leans in)

 In your last moments, Gregory, can you hear her again?  I hope so, because I am so glad you are being given true justice.....through an annoying wine.........

          (She laughs as she exits.  The end......of this vintage) 
   

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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315 
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
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Saturday, November 29, 2014

Monologue Mania Day #290 by Janet S. Tiger Quiet Nights Nov. 29, 2014

 Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!
Note: A few words about 'free' -  all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty info.

 If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to 
http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - 
click here.
     For a list of the blurbs from each day,
 click here

Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - 
MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this sit
e

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #290 by Janet S. Tiger Quiet Nights  Nov. 29, 2014 
Warning- strong language
                                                         Quiet Nights
                                 A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved
                                                        tigerteam1@gmail.com 


           (A policeman comes onstage, he’s in his forties, he’s walking carefully, but alertly.  He sees the audience and relaxes just a bit)


Hi, folks, hope you're having a good evening.....I'm glad you're here waitin' for the bus instead of driving after a few drinks, it's a smart move......I'm happy to wait here with you, it's late and the buses don't run as often after midnight, ya know......

           (He looks around, relaxes some more)

Quiet nights.  I've been on the force now for twenty-two years and every night I go out, my wife says, have a quiet night.....and I've been pretty lucky......of course, for the last ten years I've had desk work, but our policy has been every officer has to do two weeks of in the street every year, the official reason is to keep in touch with the people, but everyone knows it's to remind you what it's like on the front lines.....

This is my last night of the two weeks, and I have another hour.......

           (Listens)

Actually, the desk work was because of an injury from a not quiet night...I was chasing someone and  I fell down a flight of stairs, and my knee has never been the same, so, I get to do the desk work that when you see a show on TV, they say (imitates TV voice) 'Find out everything you can about that car.....or that house, or that building......' and you never see the person who does that background work, because it's amazingly boring........that's me, that's what I usually do.

          (Listens)

Nah, it's safer, not as much excitement, and my wife prefers it......  

          (Listens)

Ferguson......boy, I sure am glad I'm not in that guy's shoes.  I heard he just had to quit.....not surprised.  These things never end well......for anyone.  It's funny, before it was in the news, I used to complain about the desk work, but then, hey, it's front page you can't miss it, and it made me remember stuff.....

         (He takes his hat off and wipes his forehead.)

Warm night.......that guy in Ferguson could have been any one of us policeman.....(quieter) could have been me.  I was a rookie, it was my first year, near the end, so I thought I was gettin' to be smart......warm night like this......my partner saw a light in an alley.  I went to check it out, he went around the front of the building......

          (He is back to the time)

It's scary, and exciting.....and I see the light and there's a guy comin' out of a window.....broken window......and I'm just close enough to see that this is just a skinny kid, in a T-shirt and jeans.....maybe fourteen, fifteen at the most, black or Mexican......and I put my flashlight on him as he hits the cement and and I say.....Police.....and I see he has a gun....a big one, a 45, bigger than his head...... and that moment is frozen in my brain even to this day......I said, 'Police, drop the gun and put your hands on your head.......

          (He puts his hand on his holster, remembering)

He looked at me, and I looked at him......and he lifted the gun to aim it at me and all the training I had told me to shoot, but because the moment was frozen, all I could say was.....'is it worth it?' because I had a boy, only four, but, I don't know......he was just a kid......

        (He takes his hand off the holster)

And he dropped the gun and the bag of stuff he had taken and he ran......like a sonofabitch.....and I chased him and my partner was coming around from the front and we chased him for three blocks and that kid could run......I remember thinking, 'hell, if anyone had given this kid one lick of encouragement he coulda been gettin' a track scholarship one day with these feet, what a waste.....but he outran us, and my partner had me go back and find the gun and the stuff, and I put in the report and thought, that's one kid who's got a lot of trouble coming......

When I got home that night, got into bed, my wife looked at me, like she always does and asked, so, was it a quiet night, and I said, yeah.  It was a quiet night.  And we both knew I was half tellin' the truth, but sometimes, ya know, the 'whole' truth isn't what it's cracked up to be.

          (He shakes off the memory) 

Then, it was a few years later, I was getting some donuts and coffee at a 7/11 and I go to the cashier, and he looks at me, and I look at him....and it's the same kid.  A little taller, a little older, but the same kid.  And he knew it was me, and I could see he was nervous, but we just looked at each other and I paid and left.  And as I left, he said to me.....'you wanna buy a lottery ticket, sir, sometimes it's worth it...'  And I looked at him and said, 'yeah, it is'

          (He looks down the street)

Well, your bus is coming, have a good night......

         (He turns to leave, stops, looks back)

It coulda been me in Ferguson.......that guy coulda been me......

         (He walks off slowly.  Maybe one day, the end of senseless violence.) 
 
 ------------------------------------------

Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315 
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
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