literature

In the Waiting Room

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EmilyJoyfulArt's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

CHARACTER(S):
HENRY: 55 year old construction worker.

SETTING
In a hospital waiting area, late evening.

SET
One chair center-stage, sounds of hospital activity in the background

HENRY trudges on stage and sits down on a chair. He leans back and crosses his arms. He leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees. He notices the person to his right.

HENRY:
Who're you here for? (pause) That's nice… (sighs) Everybody's having babies these days. I guess six or seven billion ain't enough. You think it's a girl? Well, that's good. But just wait 'till she grows up—then you'll be in for more than you bargained for. (pause) Me? Have kids? Naah, never really got around to it. But my cousin, she got four little monkeys of her own and I see them as much as I might with my own kids. If I had any.  

HENRY pulls out a stick of gum and unwraps it.

HENRY:
So what is it you do? You look like you got some kind of office job. No? Then what's the tie for? Oh, travelling salesman. Sorry, but that sounds…. really boring. I do construction work. Y'know the community center on Garliff Street? Yeah, I built that.
You know what people say about construction workers, right? Well, they're wrong. No, they're just wrong. This is the age where anything goes. Thirteen-year-olds having sex, chicken-leg boys wearing skinny jeans, and everyone making out with everyone else. The hell are we doing? Men become women and women become men, and everybody's dressed up like a transvestite with too much eye makeup. I never heard no one telling me that torn jeans and raccoon eyes were the new thing, it just happened. But anyhow, what I was saying about the construction thing—you think most of them are pigs? Yeah, they all whistle at women in high-heels, that's the idea. Well that's stupid. Anyone who looks at these guys for more than ten seconds can tell they're all gay as ladybugs. That's the age now. All the gays, lesbians and bipolars, what'cha call 'ems are just coming out of the woodwork. LGBT? Sounds like a sandwich. And now that it's 'cool' to be one of those types, all the young people are just lining up—'convert me, convert me!' they say, 'I wanna be gay too!' (pause) No, no, don't look at me like that. I ain't no homophobe. Didn't you hear what I said about the people I have to work with? They're ladybugs, sure, but they're people like everyone else, I guess. It's a weird little world we live in. I used to live up in the boonies, y'know, way out in Tofino. Know that place? It's a little town up on Vancouver Island. Back when it was still a real town. Now it's full of hippies and suffers who don't seem to get that when it snows, it's time to pack it in and go home. Let 'em get frostbite, I'm telling you. Maybe then they'll think about going back to school. I say if you're gonna be one of those artists, at least study art for a while. Take some classes, learn some things. I never made it past high school, and man, was grade twelve math a tough time. Mary, she's always had it tough; she tells me she don't know how to pay for her kids, those monkeys I told you about. Yeah, she's got two part-time jobs, that woman, but it's still not enough to send four kids to school. Lordy, eight hours a day at Buck-or-Two and five hours every other day at A&W just don't cut it. That poor girl. She never gave up, though, not'a'once. She'd always smile, keep herself up 'till godless hours….. Heh. She knows how to throw a fit when it counts. You never want to cheat her, not on anything, or she'll make you regret the day you were born. She don't got time to be fooled, not even when we were kids together. The only time I ever heard her complain was after that sonofabitch 'Myles' left her on the side of the highway. I had to drive three hours to get her. She's why I'm here, y'know, Mary. I wouldn't go for nobody else, not even my own brother. Well, he ain't been much of a brother to me lately. Nah, Mary's always been around, you see, she's always been there to tell me I did good, or I did bad, or so on. She still thinks there's hope for her, her kids, and I think there is too. She don't deserve to be here, not at all. That's god's honest truth. And I don't pray often, but….. well, this time I'm praying real hard that whoever did this to her dies with their guts on the ground and goes straight down into the fiery pit and stays there. It was five damn dollars and a lottery ticket, Jesus Christ! A lottery ticket! (pause) She thought she'd get lucky this time. 'They're my special numbers', she said. Some luck. The doctors say she'll be fine. That's the miracle of modern medicine, I guess. I'm just happy she's still alive. And y'know what, I've decided that the truck I've been saving up for….. eh, I don't need it that much. What, with the damn hospital bills, Mary's gonna have a tough time and….I think I can wait a little longer.

Pause. HENRY runs his hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. He stands up.

HENRY:
Nice talkin' to you.

Exit. Blackout.
This is for class; we were told to write a two-minute monologue to help us get into the stageplay genre. It took me FOREVER to come up with something, and this is what I got.

This is an unedited first draft that I was told we have to perform in class on Monday. :fear: Me play a 55 year old man? That may not work out so well.
© 2012 - 2024 EmilyJoyfulArt
Comments9
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Interrabang's avatar
I... think maybe playing a guy in his fifties is a big jump, but it's possible; just gotta really study your character s'all. Good job, man, I loved this one :o