Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Monologue Mania Day # 321 by Janet S. Tiger Drafted Dec. 30, 2014

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Monologue Mania Day# 321  by Janet S. Tiger Drafted Dec. 30, 2014     
                                      ©Janet S. Tiger all rights reserved
             (This monologue will need at least two chairs, but three or four would be even more effective.  The woman enters, imperious, strong, veddy upper class British accent, this is a woman who knows what she wants.  She is dressed beautifully, purse in hand, looking over the room carefully - which table should she pick?)

Oh, hello, Charles, I'm so glad to see you, you have been so helpful the last few times we were here.  And your suggestion to come early to solve the table problem is an EXCELLENT one!

I will start with the table where we sat last time......

             (She goes to one chair, sits in it, moves, tilts her head up, makes a face)

I feel.....a DRAFT.

You people must have a different window open, the draft is evident tonight, even though last time there was no such air disturbance.....so I will try this table....over here.....

             (She picks herself up and moves to one of the other chairs.  She sits, repeats the motions from when she was in the first chair - sits, moves, wiggles a bit, makes a face, sneezes loudly.)

There it is, the same DRAFT!  You know how I hate drafts!  Drafts while eating are not healthy, I remember quite clearly how we were having a lovely dinner at the Chez Bouillabaisse, which had the most delicious soups, and we were in the middle of dessert, when my father announced...(imitates male voice)  My dear, I am leaving.....

             (She picks herself up and moves again - this time with even more annoyance - to yet another chair.)

And my dear mother replied, 'Were the bananas flambe cold? Mine were perfect.'

             (She shakes her head, sneezes, moves again, this becomes a bit like a strange dance, with the chairs being partners, but never good enough, all the while recounting the story)

And my father answered, ' No dear, the bananas were delicious, I am leaving you for your friend, Lavinia.'  My mother looked up and said, 'Well, that's interesting, goodbye, dear, please pay the bill and gratuity before you go.'  My father bowed slightly, almost insulted, and said, 'Of course, dear, this will be civilized.'  And he left.

            (Finally she plunks down in the very first chair, tired, breathing heavily)

That's when my mother looked around and said, ' I feel a a draft'  so we moved to another table, and even though we were almost finished with the meal, my mother insisted upon eating another dessert, as she claimed father had ruined her enjoyment of the first with his abrupt departure.   

What happened next was not civilized at all…. it was known as World War II, and my father was..... ...drafted, even though he had children and two wives.   He was killed at Dunkirk, and I never saw him again.

            (She shivers as if in a draft, then looks around, realizing it is the chair she sat in originally.)

Well, this is still the best of the worst!  If your Beef Wellington wasn't so scrumptious, I would have to dine elsewhere, as the drafts in this room can only be bested by the Arctic winds of Norway!

            (She stands, very tall, looks around)

We'll be here tonight, Charles, promptly at 7:45, so I will check to see if this table will be acceptable.  I would appreciate it greatly if all windows in this quadrant remained closed for the duration of this day, to ensure a non-draft sensation.

           (She hands a gratuity to Charles)

Thank you......

            (Listens, as she starts to leave, stops, looks back, irritated)

No!  We are not dining with the Biggleswades!  He is acceptable, but she, she is impossible…. with all her stories – the woman just lives in the past!            

            (She exits, making her own draft as she goes)


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

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