This was a sketch I had written a long time ago. It was a monologue. I usually don't do monologues, but for some reason, when this idea came up, it was the most natural way to work it. Maybe I was into a Bob Newhart phase, doing one-sided conversations.
Anyway, it sat on my hard drive for quiet a long while, occasionally getting set out to theater troupes until about 6 years ago. The Hudson Warehouse Theater Group was presenting an evening of monologues about love for Valentine's Day. This seemed like a perfect match. Eventually. My friend is the artistic director of the group and since it was the first time they were doing this, she decided she should pester her friends to submit stuff. Hey, I figured, if she's that desperate for material, maybe I'll get picked!
Anyway, it sat on my hard drive for quiet a long while, occasionally getting set out to theater troupes until about 6 years ago. The Hudson Warehouse Theater Group was presenting an evening of monologues about love for Valentine's Day. This seemed like a perfect match. Eventually. My friend is the artistic director of the group and since it was the first time they were doing this, she decided she should pester her friends to submit stuff. Hey, I figured, if she's that desperate for material, maybe I'll get picked!
So I pulled it out, cleaned it up and edited to about 2 minutes and sent it in. And it was picked. Alas, I had booked a family vacation so I missed the shows. And nobody taped anything, so I never actually saw it on it's feet. After that (spoiler alert) I was selected for the next 5 festivals and made sure I recorded them (to various degrees of success) just so I'd have something to remember it by. It's a positive little bit that has some clouds of doubt sewn in, but when I write about love, which I don't often do, that's how it comes out.
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MARRIED MAN
(MAN stands alone, facing audience,
talking to someone beside him.)
MAN
Don't worry, the tuxedo looks fine. Don't slouch. Straighten your tie. Nervous? What are you nervous about? It's only your wedding.
You've been to mass, right? It's just like mass. Think of
the best party you ever went to. That's your reception. So a wedding's just like mass and a really great party, only afterwards you have to live with someone for the rest of your life.
Yes, it is a long time. Yeah, I think they mean it literally. Don't worry, it's a snap. Trust me, I'm your best man, right? There's just a couple of rules you have to
follow and it'll be a snap. There's only a couple. You don't have to write them down. Fix your cummerbund.
Okay, rules for a happy marriage. The toilet---Let me finish, will ya? The toilet seat. Whenever you finish, make sure you put the seat back down... It is to important.
Because one day your bride's going to come into the bedroom in the middle of the night, sopping wet and you're going to say something like, what happened? You fall in? And she's gonna smack you. So seat down, always.
Second, make sure she has her own razor. For when she shaves her legs and armpits and stuff. They do that. If she's got her own razor, she won't have to "borrow" yours. Do you know what its like shaving with a razor after she borrows it? It's like shaving with hedge clippers. I learn that the hard way. Do you know how many face divots I hacked off before I bought her a Lady Schick? Plenty.
Let's see...0h, yeah. Never call your wife "my better half" or "the little woman" or "the ball and chain." Why? Cause it's stupid and I don't like it, that's why. Just don't do it. Pull your cuffs out.
Okay, so that's the toilet seat, razors and stupid names. What else? Oh, I remember. Do nice things for her. Like, buy her some flowers every so often. Not just on some occasion. Just now and again. She'll really appreciate it. I like to bring her home some flowers when she's sick. She likes it and it makes her feel better. No matter how sick she is, it's like her eyes just escape the illness and light up. It's pretty great. But don't get candy. Women get mad if you bring them candy. They get worried about getting fat then. Which reminds me. Beware of trick questions. Yeah.
Like she'll ask you, "Dear, do you think I'm getting fat?" or "Honey, was there anyone before me?" Don't answer. Or say no. Lie if you have to. The truth only gets them angry. And for God's sake don't say anything cute about her weight like "That only means there's more of you to love." She'll smack you.
Toilet seats. Razors. Stupid names. Flowers and trick questions. Remember that and you'll have a happy marriage. Tuck your shirt in.
No, you can't back out now. Cause I rented this tux. It's just cold feet. Everyone gets cold feet. Just a sudden attack of second thoughts. It'll pass. Me? Sure, I had second thoughts. Still do. But you can't go by me, I spend all day wondering if I shoulda had the raisin bran for breakfast instead of the English muffin...
I don't know. The doubts come at different times. Like say you go to a party, and you see this really great looking girl who keeps eyeing you. You wonder. Or like if your friends go away to their cabin in the woods for a major blow out weekend, like the old days, you wonder. Or maybe you'd like to quit your job and try something else, but you stay because you need the medical benefits to pay off some doctor bills, you wonder. But, hey, life's got no guarantees, right? You can't have everything, you know. It's an all or nothing deal. No in-between.
Huh? She's here? Fix your tie. Hey, there she is, coming up the aisle. Yeah. She does look beautiful. Yeah, she does look happy, doesn't she? Actually, so do you. See,
it'll be a snap. Fix your cummerbund. And for God's sake, stop slouching.
THE END
