Monologues
By Biku
Bad Hair Day
I have a cowlick. A cowlick, right there, in the center of my
hair, right in front of everything. A cowlick. What did I do to
deserve this? What does anybody do to deserve a cowlick? I don't
know. I certainly know that *I* don't deserve a cowlick. I do
not deserve to have a single peice of my hair stick straight up.
Do you know what it looks like, to have a single piece of my hair
stick straight up right in the center of my forehead? It looks
like my hair is giving people the finger, that's what. I've got
a rude gesture on my head. Nobody deserves that. Not even mass
murderers. Did Hitler have a cowlick? No, but that's probably
because he had three tons of industrial oil on his head. I can't
put that much stuff on my hair. The rest of my hair didn't do
anything--it's just this one piece, this one little section,
that's screwing it up for everybody else. I think hair is a
metaphor for life. There are the people who truly care about
their hair, they spend hours in the bathroom or in the salon,
making sure that everything is perfect. Then there are the
people who would like to care about their hair, but there's just
too much of other damn stuff in the way, and so they leave it
until the last minute and then go nuts. Then there's the people
who don't give a damn, and believe me, it shows. And then
there's me. And my cowlick. I think it's an omen of some kind.
What kind of an omen is a cowlick? It can't be a good omen,
that's for sure. Maybe it's all a figment of my imagination,
maybe nobody but me can see it, and maybe while we're dreaming I
can be Queen of the World. With my own hairdresser. A cowlick
is a cowlick is a cowlick, and no amount of dreaming will make it
go away. No amount of fuss will make it go away. It's the hair
equivelent of a cockroach. A vulgar cockroach. I think it's
something I have to learn to live with. Either that, or I can
get my head shaved. Depends, I guess, on the amount of fuss I'm
willing to show a little cowlick.
What Not To Do
Hi. I just wanted to let you know--I'm so happy to be here.
Getting this interview. I'm so happy--I love working with
people. People just naturally like me, y'know? Maybe it's
because I talk so much. I know that sounds weird, but people
don't like long silences. I sure don't have that problem! Nope,
I love to talk. Sometimes when I'm nervous, I might talk a bit
too much, but then, I don't think it's that bad. Anyway, that's
why I want to be a saleswoman again. I love talking to
customers! I haven't had a job in a while, not since my last one
where I got fired because I insulted the boss. I mean, she
deserved it, right? But anyway, I got fired, and it was a real
shame, too, because my brother Joe was in charge of personnel,
and it was him that got me the job. Well, not *got* me the job,
it wasn't like that or anything, he told me about it and I
applied. Of course, he gave me the interview too, but he assured
me that just because I was his sister didn't influence his
decision in the slightest. My brother wouldn't lie to me. I know
I haven't got the best family, I mean, they're kinda weird, but
still. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I got the job as the
head saleswoman because I'm such a great talker. I was headsales
woman, too, which, I know, is kinda like getting a demotion now
with the job I'm applying for, but that's okay. I mean, being
out of work for the past two years has put it in perspective, you
know? It was fun, at first, having all the spare time, but I got
pretty bored. That's when I decided to look for more work, but I
haven't gotten hired since, even though I have all that great
experience as a saleswoman. Well, I mean, sure it was only the
one job, but I was *head* saleswoman, that's gotta count for
something. If it didn't, I'd be in trouble! But anyway, I'm
sure I would be great for the job. Sure, it's beneath my level
and everything, but beggars can't be choosers, like they say. By
the way, did you know that the coffee machine outside is broken?
I would have that fixed, if were you. It doesn't look to good to
people coming in if the vending machine is broken! You're lucky
I'm not so picky, otherwise I would have walked out right then,
and *then* where would you be? Out one great saleswoman, that's
for sure! Just be lucky I'm so desperate. Anyway, I've got to be
wrapping this interview up, so thanks for letting me fill out the
application, I guess I'll be seeing you in a few weeks!
That Damn Dog
That damn dog is barking again. Every night, bark bark bark bark
bark. I can never get any sleep--you can hear that damn dog all
over the apartment. I tried sleeping in the back room, it's the
farthest from the party wall, but you can still here it like it's
right beside you! I haven't had a decent nights sleep in months!
I complained to the super about it, and he talked to the idiots
next door. They promised to get rid of the dog, only they didn't
and they hide it whenever he goes to see them. Nobody else can
hear that stupid dog except for me, so it's my word against
theirs. My wife says I get too emotional about the whole thing,
but you would too, if you had to listen to that damn dog.
Sometimes, you hear about those nutcases that go around
neighbourhoods, poisoning pets, and sometimes I think: "Gee,
maybe we could track this guy down and hire him." Nobody
understands what I'm going through. My wife, and the kid, they
sleep like corpses. A nuke going off in their bed wouldn't wake
them up. Me, I wake up at the slightest noise. And calling that
dog "slight" would be the biggest understatement in the history
of the english language. I swear--I'm just so fed up. If it
wasn't bad enough with that damn dog, new neighbours have moved
in upstairs, and they must practise clog dancing or something,
the noise is incredible! Again, only I'm up at four--the damn
dog, naturally--so I'm the only one here lucky enough to get
treated to upstairs' impromto recitals. The only explanation
besides the clog dancing is that they're moving furniture while
wearing army boots. They keep me up until around five thirty
every morning. I finally get to sleep then, when I'm woken up at
six thirty by my alarm clock, cause I've got to go to work. So I
get roughly an hour or two of sleep each night, between the damn
dog and the Morris's upstairs. Naturally, because I'm not
getting any sleep, I'm a *bit* cranky, and my wife has been
complaining. What has she got to complain about? I'm the one
that has to go to work for nine hours on one hour of sleep! I'm
the one who has to sit through at least three hours of meetings
per day--do you know how hard it is to stay awake? It's difficult
in normal situations, and I'd hardly call this normal.
Today--today was the biggest kicker--the lowest point. My wife
and I had a huge argument this morning because I suggested
moving. She didn't take me seriously, and it wound up becoming a
huge fight, and she ended up taking the kid to stay at her mom's
until I can "get my act together." So there, my wife had just
left me, and why? Because of that damn dog.
I'm Not Paranoid, It's Just That Everybody Is Out To Get
Me
They're everywhere, you know. I know. I know what's going
on today. They think that we don't know--but we do. We're not
as dumb as They think we are. They expect us to swallow
everything like--like a glass of milk. The Dairy Board is part
of a giant conspiracy, you know. One of the biggest. Along with
the government, They are trying to kill us all to make more
profit. It's true.
Think about it--the Dairy Board says milk prevents
osteoporosis, right? Only, get this: some scientists have proved
that people can't digest milk after they're weaned from it. So
all that calcium that is *supposed* to help our bones actually
goes straight through us. What does that mean? Well, say a young
woman drinks all the milk the Dairy Board tells her to drink.
Two things: one: They make money. The driving force of society,
right? and two: the woman thinks that she's got the right amount
of calcium in her system, so she doesn't bother making up for it.
Then what happens? She's not getting enough calcium, and she gets
osteoporosis anyway. So then she falls, and boom! Before you
know it, the government has got one less person to put on a
pension. That's why They're targeting women, too. Women live
longer. So They've got to knock them off sooner, before the
women make too much money off of the Them. Protecting their
assets, that's what the government is doing. And stepping on you
and me in the process. It's a dangerous world out there. You
have to be careful.
End