Hello everyone and welcome back! A lot has happened since the last post (in April). One thing that hasn’t happened much was theatre. That was the main reason for the hiatus.
This week we’ll look at Romeo & Juliet‘s The Nurse, who is Juliet’s servant, guardian and former wet nurse. In the play, Juliet is supposed to be 13 years old. The action takes place shortly before Juliet’s upcoming birthday.
Imagine being 13 years old and still having to hang out with your old wet nurse.
The Nurse first appears in the poem Romeus and Juliet from 1562, which Shakespeare stole from served as Shakespeare’s basis for his play.
The Nurse acts as a kind of go-between between the two leads. She helps set them up. She also provides a counterpoint to Juliet and Romeo’s idealized spiritual whatever thing they have. For her, love seems to be more about physical pleasure:
“I am the drudge, and toil in your delight, / But you shall bear the burden soon at night” (II.5.75-76)
She’s telling this to a 13 year old.
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For an in-depth analysis of The Nurse’s character, there is this video:
And here is the monologue itself:
NURSE: Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she (God rest all Christian souls!) Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me. But, as I said, On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry; I remember it well. ‘Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was weaned (I never shall forget it), Of all the days of the year, upon that day; For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. My lord and you were then at Mantua. Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! Shake, quoth the dovehouse! ‘Twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge. And since that time it is eleven years, For then she could stand high-lone; nay, by th’ rood, She could have run and waddled all about; For even the day before, she broke her brow; And then my husband (God be with his soul! ‘A was a merry man) took up the child. ‘Yea,’ quoth he, ‘dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; Wilt thou not, Jule?’ and, by my holidam, The pretty wretch left crying and said ‘Ay.’ To see now how a jest shall come about! I warrant, an I should live a thousand years I never should forget it. ‘Wilt thou not, Jule?’ quoth he, And, pretty fool, it stinted and said ‘Ay.’
Howdy all! Welcome back to Monologue Monday. As I type this, there’s some jerk nearby playing wank-ballads at an ungodly level. If this post is lesser than previous posts, blame the Wank-Balladeer of Jakarta.
After being kicked out of culinary school, aspiring chef Pax returns to his hometown to regroup. There he happens upon an old friend from high school, Livi, who he learns has forgone a promising acting career to work in a retirement home. Meanwhile Livi’s sister-in-law Reina enrolls in a class about space at the local community college and, much to her husband Barry’s dismay, becomes fixated on the unlikely dream of becoming an astronaut. Pax supports Reina’s aspirations and encourages Livi to revive hers – all while pursuing his own far-fetched dream of opening a restaurant for celebrities in LA.
It certainly sounds like the world of dreams in LaLa Land.
My Father’s Blue Eyes
In this monologue, Livi is remembering when her father actually saw her.
I was fourteen. For some reason, my guidance counselor took an interest in me. Who knows what she saw in me – wearing Barry’s hand-me-down rugby shirts… But she entered me in a local beauty pageant. Bought me a nice dress, and some makeup and everything. Got me all dolled up…. (Beat) It’s a silly story. (Pax tells her to “go on”) (Beat) Well, the night of the pageant came – and she tried to get my dad there. But of course he wouldn’t… And then…I won. I won. I couldn’t believe it. And they gave me this tiara. I remember getting home and being so proud – and there was Dad, sitting on his Lazy-Boy, watching something funny on TV, ’cause he was laughing – just really in a good mood. Well, I just waited, patiently, until the commercial. Then I walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder, ever so lightly, and showed him my tiara – my crown. (Beat) And this part, I’ll never forget, he actually smiled at me – he touched my face – and he said “Are you my Miss America? Are you my little Miss Universe?” At that moment, I had his attention. He was looking right at me. And I remember, thinking it was really weird, because I’d never noticed how blue his eyes were before.
Let’s see what the actors on YouTube have cooked up:
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Deafening Applause
Now Livi is talking to Pax, telling him how her dream died. You can find the monologue here.
I remember how everyone got quiet, okay?
Quiet…and still. Like they were all connected to me. All a part of me. Even Dad and Barry – I looked out, even they were…seeing me. I mean, really seeing me. And at the end of the show, when I stepped forward to take my bow the applause was—was— It was deafening. In a little high school auditorium. It was deafening and — Dad and Barry were applauding with the rest of them. They had these big smiles on their faces.
Afterwards Dad took us out to dinner. And I was thinking, this is it, ya know. He’s finally seen what they all see. We sit down. The first words out of his mouth are “Sure, you were OK, but I’m not really sure you’ve got the movie star look. Take Annette Benning – she’s real tall, isn’t she, Barry?” “Oh yeah, Liv,” Barry says, “movie stars are real tall.” So I’m like, “What about Marilyn Monroe? She was short.” And Dad just looks at Barry and says “Now she thinks she’s Marilyn Monroe.” And they just laugh and laugh.
Dad wanted me to come work at the Techno-Hut. He didn’t want me to leave.
You ask me if I’m truly happy having stayed? I don’t know. I live a good life here.
Let’s see how our brave YouTube mono-thespians did!
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Here is something really special. An Australian actress documented her journey working on this monologue. It’s pretty cool. It’s also fun seeing her adopt a fairly believeable American accent.
Barry’s Monologue/Best Lazy Boy Recliner
Lest all the women have all the monologues, Barry gets a monologue where he talks about the nature of men and the best Lazy Boy in space.
You know why men are constantly fighting instead of working together to survive?
Simple. Man is mainly motivated to sit on his ass. Our greatest inventors are busy right now finding more ways for us to sit on our ass better. And when they make it, men will kill to sit on it.
Wars will happen because every man wants the best Lazy Boy Recliner in the galaxy. AND I SELL IT.
I sell a deluxe Lazy Boy outfitted with massagers, heating pads, a cooling unit for drinks – it’s the closest experience of comfort a man can get on earth short of climbing back through his mother’s hoo-ha into the womb.
If it’s a choice between that and helping you colonize space? No contest.
Let’s see how the YouTube actors fared:
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Where are you trying to run to?
Livi calls Pax out on his nonsense. You can read the monologue here.
Where are you trying to run to, Pax? Can’t you just stop and enjoy life while you’re here—lucky to be alive and breathing? I mean, there may be no tomorrow and you may have missed today in some desperate, frenetic, striving frenzy.
I like the people at the retirement home. Their time is limited and they know it. They have a palpable sense of their limits. And they know how to enjoy the moment. There’s an old couple there, that I aspire to. They sit together, all day, hand in hand, just breathing, staring at the TV.
Yes Pax … like just two bodies…sitting there. Yes. “A sitting-down love.” They have “a sitting down love.” You think love should make you stand up, jump up…achieve your greatest heights. Sure, yes love can do that but it can also make you calm, centered, at peace, contented.
Is that really what I want for us? You call it “A life in retirement.” I don’t know, Pax. I just want us to be fulfilled. Yes, I know you want that too. So why can’t you accept things the way they are?
It’s not “giving up.” It’s … giving in. Surrendering. Being .. at peace. You say you want to “fly on the stars and never look back.” But Pax … Sometimes falling can feel like flying.
Look we … we don’t have to solve this tonight. Tonight we can just take a breath. Take a step back. We can retire … to bed. Not retire forever. Not give in forever. Just give in … for tonight. Retire … for tonight.
Come to bed. Pax … just … come to bed.
Let’s see what our YouTube acting heavyweights can do with this monologue:
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There we have it. Thanks for stopping by. I hope everyone stays safe during the Covid19.
For fun, while researching this I found a song with the exact title of My Father’s Blue Eyes. For novelty’s sake I’m posting it here.
As the curtain rises, a poor, dusty shop with its dirty window obscuring the dark hos-tile night, with its mean little counter, and with its juke box glaring vulgarly from the side, the storekeeper is taking inventory. The door is flung open, letting in a lithe young black man, weirdly gotten up in a soft, high-crowned hat, sunglasses, a cape, short slacks and sneakers. Mr. Hanley calls this act Pas de Deux. In this dance for two, the characters make hesitant approaches, circle, feint, threaten each other with gun and ice pick but scarcely make contact. The young man is obviously a hunted man. Through the circumlocutions of his odd mixture of jive talk and fancy literary allusions, there pants a sense of terror. The storekeeper is a non-Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, is close-mouthed, suspicious, anxious to avoid self-involvement. In the second act, the Pas de Deux becomes Pas de Trois. The third dancer is Rosie, an eigh-teen-year old from Riverdale, has wandered into the shop after losing her way while looking for the address of an abortionist. Rosie has no illusions about her homeliness or about the encounter that has led to her troubles. The laconic German and the flowery young man react to her with a sensitivity and concern that seem to diminish the furies within them. But not for long. Finally the German is driven to revealing the truth about himself as the young man, at last, in the third act, faces his inexorable fate out there on the killing ground.
It looks like they haven’t updated the synopsis since ’64, either. Hehe.
Playwright Hanley was the nephew of two other successful writers, Gerald and James Hanley. His sister Ellen Hanley was a noted Broadway actress.
Hanley eventually had a successful career writing for television, especially TV movies. He was nominated for five Emmys and won two. Here are some links about him:
Rosie: If you knew me better, you’d see that this is exactly the kind of thing that’s likely to happen to me. Getting knocked up, I mean. The point is it was my first time, I was a virgin before that. Wouldn’t you know it, I’d get caught? Aside from everything else, I’m not lucky, either. You see, if I was lucky, Harold and I could’ve succumbed to our silly little passion and that would’ve been that, the end of it. And New Rochelle, of all places. At least if it’d been in some nice apartment in the Village, say, with the sound coming through the window of traffic and people, the breeze blowing the curtain over the bed, like in the movies. But no. I lost my virginity in the attic of an old house in New Rochelle. Harold’s grandmother’s house. On a rainy day in spring on the floor of the attic in his grandmothers house, listening to the rain on the roof, breathing the dust of old things…And what comes next but his grandmother who was supposed to be in the city for the day. But instead, she’s suddenly standing there, screaming: “Stop that! Stop that this instant!” Needless to say, it was out of the question. Stopping. At that particular moment. I mean, sex is like a flight over the sea, one reaches the point of no return…I guess it sounds funny now, but you know, at the time…it was pretty rotten. Sordid, I mean…it wasn’t at all the way it’s supposed to be. And Harold, of all people. A girl finds herself in this predicament, this condition, she’d at least like to think the cause of it was some clever, handsome guy with charm and experience, just returned from spending a year in Rome, say, on a Guggenheim fellowship. But Harold. Harold is six foot two, about a hundred and twenty five pounds, tops, and an Economics major at CCNY…That’s about the best I’ll ever be able to do, I know it. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I’ve been walking around with a face down to here and my mother kept saying, “What’s the matter with you, anyway? I just don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.” So, finally, I told her: a kid named Harold, as a matter of fact.
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Glas: But I had a wife…
There is a male monologue in the play. And it might be a decent one for an older actor. Glas’ character survived the Holocaust.
He talks about those days, being a Gentile married to a Jew.
And there we have Slow Dance on the Killing Ground.
Howdy and welcome back to Monologue Monday. This week’s monologues come from a play entitled Laundry and Bourbon (aka Southern women drinking and gossiping).
The play claims to have a plot. I stole this one from playdatabase:
The setting is the front porch of Roy and Elizabeth’s home in Maynard, Texas, on a hot summer afternoon. Elizabeth and her friend Hattie are whiling away the time folding laundry, watching TV, sipping bourbon and Coke, and gossiping about the many open secrets which are so much a part of small-town life. They are joined by the self-righteous Amy Lee who, among other tidbits, can’t resist blurting out that Roy has been seen around town with another woman. While the ensuing conversation is increasingly edged with bitter humor, from it emerges a sense of Elizabeth’s inner strength and her quiet understanding of the turmoil which has beset her husband since his return from Vietnam. He is wild, and he is unfaithful, but he needs her and she loves him. And she’ll be waiting for him when he comes home–no matter what others may say or think.
Admittedly, this isn’t my cup of tea. The Southern-fried genre of theatre has been done much better (think Tennessee Williams) and the small-town village mentality and escape thereof has been better portrayed by Inge. As for comedy, I know real-life Southerners 10 times funnier than this play.
However, on the plus side, it does provide three female roles, some strong. It also provides decent audition monologue material.
Let’s take a look at the character breakdown:
Two of these characters have monologues we can explore.
Elizabeth: I remember the first day he drove into town in that car.
So these people like to talk about the past. Elizabeth is remembering when she saw Roy with his car.
Elizabeth: Wish tonight was 10 years ago.
Elizabeth has reached a point in her life and relationship when she wishes she could go into the back seat of a Ford Thunderbird 10 years ago. Also, in fiction, why does it seem men need to teach women about their bodies?
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Hattie: Figure I better check on the kids.
Hattie complains about her kids. The monologue is here.
Hattie: Figure I better check on the kids. No telling what devilment they’ve gotten up to. (Dialing.) Everything gonna turn out fine you’ll see. (On the phone.) Hello? Cheryl? Cheryl dear, this is Mommy. . . Mommy. . . your mother. (Aside.) Child needs a hearing aid. What’s that dear? Vernon Jr. threw a rock at you? Well, throw one back at him, honey. Show him who’s boss. Cheryl, sweetheart, put Grandma on the phone. . . Cheryl this week! (Pause.) Sounds -like they’re running her ragged. Hello? Little Roger. Is that you. I don’t want to talk to you right now punkin, I want to talk to Grandma. . . ’cause I want to talk to Grandma . . . yes Grandma does have baggy elbows. Now lemme talk to her. . . what’s that? Honey of course Mommy loves you. . . I love you all the same. . . Do I love you more than who? Fred Flintstone. Yes. More than Paul Newman no, but Fred Flintstone yes. . . It’s a grown-up joke honey. Now put Grandma on . . . She’s what? Tied up! You untie her you hear me? You want a switchin’? . . . Then you untie her, right now. . . Marion? That you. . . Oh, you were playin’ . . . Oh good I thought they had you tied up for real. . . How they doing. . . yes . . . yes. . . yes I agree there is too much violence on TV. . . yes I’ll pick them up at five. . . No I won’t be late. . . You have my solemn word. . . Goodbye. What’s that? Little Roger? . . . Yes it’s nice to hear your voice again too . . . You’re playing what? Sniper? Vernon Jr. has climbed a tree in the backyard and he has a brick? Well, little Roger, listen and listen carefully, under no circumstances go under that tree. . . He’s gonna drop the brick on your head, sweetheart. . . So don’t go under the tree. That’s just what he wants. . . OK . . . OK . . . “Yabba dabb doo” to you too. (She hangs up.) He’ll walk right under that tree. The child has no more sense than God gave a screwdriver.
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Hattie: Today I went through living hell.
She also goes shopping with said kids. The monologue is here.
HATTIE
Today I went through living hell. I went shopping with my children. Disastrous. When my kids hit a department store, they go berserk. I think it activates something in their glands. We hadn’t been in J.C. Penney’s five minutes before they scattered in all direction. Now you take my little Cheryl. She’s a sweet little thing but bless her heart she’s a thief. It’s time I faced facts, ‘Lizabeth. My daughter is a kleptomaniac. As soon as we got into that store, she started stuffing her pockets. Stuffing her clothing. She ran away from me and ten minutes later I saw her. I barely recognized my only daughter. She looked like a beach ball with legs. Telling her to put it back is no good. Thieving is in her blood. She gets it from Vernon Jr. Now he was in the hardware department chasing his brother with a hammer. And all little Roger was doing was screaming. Somehow Vernon Jr. broke a solid steel J.C. Penney hammer. When it comes to destruction, Vernon Jr. is a genius. But I tell you, it’s the last time I go shopping with those kids. I took the little darlings over to Vern’s mother’s place. She has a nice big house. They ought to have it leveled in about an hour or so.
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Hattie: Elizabeth you’re getting all sentimental and romantic.
Of course Hattie has some advice for her yearning-for-the-past friend Elizabeth.
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And there you have it, some monologues. For quality female contemporary monologues, please check out Adam Szymkowicz’ Pretty Theft and Rare Birds as well as Incendiary. There’s also My Name is Tania Head by Alexandra Wood.
PS if you ever wondered what Laundry and Bourbon being rehearsed in Indonesian looks like, now is your chance. And yeah, the director is kind of a dick (like a lot of American directors I’ve known).
Howdy all! Welcome back to Unknown Playwrights and Monologue Monday! This week’s monologue has the winsome title of When It Rains Gasoline.
I couldn’t find any art for this play, so I borrowed something from Maiyal.
According to the review on TheatreMania, “Jason D. Martin’s When It Rains Gasoline chronicles the massive emotional insecurities and social compromises of a group of Columbine-generation teens, navigating the treacherous waters of adolescence.”
The play premiered in 2010.
Paul: I get along with pretty much all the kids.
Even the play’s description of Paul is none-too-flattering:
Paul: A heavy-set stereotypical “loser.” The other kids avoid Paul or make fun of him.
Ouch.
This scene is basically Paul’s social media video diary. Paul isn’t feeling too well and lets the world know.
I get along with pretty much all the kids. I know there are a lotta’ girls that really like me, they’re just shy. I’m kinda’ shy too. I know what they’re going through. I don’t expect them to jump out and tell me how they feel, especially with Chris and… Well, you know. This one group of girls – really popular girls – invited me to a party. I got all dressed up. I was the only boy there. We played a game where they giggled and dared each other to kiss me. None did… I’m sure they were just shy. I… I can really get people to laugh when I do things sometimes. I’m… I’m not always sure what those things are… I mean, I get up from eating lunch and a whole group of kids at the next table starts to laugh. I’ve thought about maybe being a comedian… Especially since I’m so good at making people laugh. Chris and Angus and… I don’t like making those guys laugh. Not really. Sometimes they’re… I… It’s not fun to make them laugh, they… (A painful pregnant pause.) Sometimes I wish that their little hearts would just freeze. I have fantasies about that. Sometimes in my dreams I see people like Chris choking on something. He’s motioning for me to help him. He wants me to give him the Hiemlick maneuver or something, but I just stand there. I watch him fall to his knees, holding his throat, his face turning blue… For some reason blood starts to come out of his nose and ears. His eyes pop out and blood starts to come from there too. The whole time I know that I can save him, but I don’t do anything. I watch him die. He’s lying there, not moving, not doing anything. And suddenly… Suddenly his skin splits open. I expect to see muscles and bones, but… But instead, maggots and spiders and worms start to crawl out of his ravaged body. And then… And then I know what he was… Nothing. He wasn’t worth anything to anyone but insects and maggots… Sometimes… Sometimes, I think about ending it. It would be so easy to make a statement, to show the world that people like me aren’t gonna’] take it anymore. Put a gun to his head… Pull the trigger… See if I’m right about his insides…
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Poor Paul. Now we’re onto Alysa’s monologue.
Alysa: Do you realize that tonight….
Alysa: One of the most popular girls at the school. The head cheerleader. She is both a stereotypical “mean girl” and an airhead.
Her monologue is about the troubles of a stereotypical rich girl:
Do you realize that tonight is the most important night of my life? Oh my God! Do you? It’s like way more important than cheer tryouts. It’s way more important than my first kiss, the first day of middle school, the first day of high school, the first day of drivers ed, more important than my driver’s license, more important than any of my ex-boyfriends, more important than my current boyfriends—I mean friend. It is the pinnacle of the high school experience. The prom. Prom night. The night that I will remember for the rest of my life. I spent six-hundred dollars on my dress. Anyway, Jane Hickman spent a thousand… She’s a total daddy’s girl. For her sixteenth birthday, her dad got her a brand new Ford Mustang. For my sixteenth birthday, I got a two-year old Prius. Whatev. Some girls are just born with a silver spoon in their mouth. She’s such a snobby little rich girl. A little rich girl who’s parents buy her anything she wants. Her parents have a swimming pool and a tennis court. All we have is a Jacuzzi. One time she told me she, (Make quote signs with her fingers.) liked my outfit. She’s such a snob. I know what she meant. She was making fun of my new designer jeans. She thinks they’re out of fashion already. Slut. Oh well, I’m not gonna’ let Jane Hickman ruin the most important day of my life. My six-hundred dollar dress is way more stylish than the over-priced rag she’s gonna’ wear. That little bitch. That little slut. I’m gonna’ be homecoming royalty for sure. Homecoming queen! I hate Jane Hickman. Hicky Hickman, ‘cause she’s always got a hicky. That little hootchie-mamma better not be gettin’on the royal court. I’d just kill myself if she was homecoming queen. I’d kill myself! It’s bad enough that her dress costs more. It’s bad enough she’s got a newer car. It’s bad enough she’s got a pool and a tennis court. I hate my parents. Why don’t we have a pool and a tennis court? My Mom is so lazy. All she does is sit around at the computer. And my Dad… My Dad’s never around. He’s always (Makes quote signs again.) at the office. Whatever that means. Like if he was (Makes quotes a last time.) at the office, he’d be making money, right? Well maybe he needs to get his butt in gear and get his daughter a fifteen-hundred dollar dress so she doesn’t look like a bag lady at the prom. That’s what I’m gonna’ look like. A bag lady! Jane Hickman’s gonna’ be prom queen for sure! This is the worst day of my life!
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And now we leave popular rich girl angst to bring you…
Emily: Pink Bunnies monologue
Popular pregnant girl angst by way of Emily. Here is her character description:
Emily: A popular cheerleader who has just found out that she’s pregnant.
Whoops. Here is the monologue:
“Sometimes I just wish the world was full of pink bunny rabbits. There would be a beautiful lush forest, green grass, a sparkling brook, and it would always be warm. And all that would live there would be pink bunny rabbits. Hundreds of pink bunny rabbits. They would eat the grass and the leaves and there wouldn’t be any wolves to hurt them. Every rabbit’s Mom and Dad would love them no matter what… And all the rabbits would be in love… They would all have the perfect mate that would never ever hurt them in any way. They would all be able to trust each other and know that if something bad happened, no one would run away. I know it’s a weird dream, but I’ve heard weirder. My boyfriend used to tell me how cool it would be if there were a one-way mirror into the girls locker room. That’s kind of strange… Then again, he is a guy. I had another friend who thought that rocks were alive and that if you touched them, the grease on your fingers would kill them. A little weirder. Someone once told me that he had a premonition that one day we would all have flying waffles for cars… That almost takes the cake for weirdness. No, I’ll tell you the weirdest thing I ever heard was when my doctor told me that I was pregnant… There is no doubt that that’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. I never knew a fifteen-year old girl would… Well, I suppose I’ve heard about it happening. I guess I just never thought that it could happen to me. I wish the world were full of pink bunny rabbits…”
Her boyfriend sounds like a creepy loser. Here are the videos:
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That was all very thrilling. Now we come to Jody.
Jody: I’m scared.
It seems there’s only one video of Jody. Here is his character description:
Jody: A young man who is trying to deal with his sexual identity.
JODY I’m scared. I mean, I’m not just a little bit frightened… I’m actually scared—really scared. I can put ‘em on a bit. Act cocky. But they know. They know what I really am. These kids here… They… Well, they don’t understand. Most of ‘em live in a dream world. They think about football and prom and hanging out at the mall. I guess that’s pretty normal. Problem is… I don’t fit the norm. It’s not easy being what I am here. People say it’s not an easy thing to be anywhere, but… It’s really not an easy thing to be here. And it’s not like I got a whole lotta’ support. My Mom—well that didn’t go over well. Locked herself in the bathroom all night. And my Dad… Let’s just say he’s not very open-minded. We don’t talk about it at home. We pretend like it, never came up. It is not a subject that is open for discussion. I know that a lot of queer teenagers are suicidal. They just can’t take it. But that’s not me. That’s not me. I don’t think about that stuff… Mostly, I don’t think about that stuff. Okay, sometimes it comes into my head, but there is no way I’d ever do anything to myself. There’s no way. I mean, look at me. I’m not scared of what I’m gonna’ do. I’m scared of what other kids are going to do to me if they ever really find out. I mean, I’m worried about my friends. I’m worried that they won’t want to be around me. I’m worried that they’ll think I’m somehow different, diseased, inferior… But that’s only part of what I’m scared of. Only part… I’m also worried about the others, the ones who aren’t my friends. The others…the ones who hate. The ones who sit in the back of the classroom and talk about Mexicans taking their jobs. The ones who thought Obama was born in Kenya. The ones who think we’re all pedophiles with AIDS who made a choice to be like this. (Laughs.) If only they knew. I don’t think anyone anywhere would ever make a choice to be like this. It’s too hard…Yeah, the ones who hate…they’re stupid. But you know what? Stupid people are dangerous, really dangerous. I mean, I’m just a guy. I’m just a person. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m not going to hit on some insecure jock. I mean, give me a break. I don’t even have the self-esteem to hit on another gay guy. So I don’t know what they’re problem is. I don’t know what it is. But it doesn’t matter. If the others—the ones who hate—if they find out about me, they’ll come after me. And they’ll hurt me. And they’ll laugh when they do it. I’m afraid. Scared. What will people think of me when I’m out? What will people do to me? Everything’s gonna’ change. Everything.
Unknown Playwrights 