Scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button (For a list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law - the date of the post - and these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED. Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info. These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did -Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.
Help a playwright and get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Two dozen! Coming down the homestretch on month 1
Mar. 8, 2014
The Question (c)
by Janet S. Tiger
© all rights reserved [email protected]
(An older woman comes onstage – she is dressed conservatively, perhaps a bit like, can we say it, the Queen? And she has a twinkle in her eye. She also has a British accent – but you knew that!)
My poem for this evening is based on the reality that every woman in the world – regardless of her age or looks – has at one time – usually when she had less age and more looks – been propositioned. Yes, you can gasp, ladies and gentlemen, but you all know this is true.
It is usually when we have the intelligence and ego to say ‘no’, although, from I what I have heard in this dining room, some of us said ‘yes’- but that is another poem.
When I myself was propositioned, I was 19, dressed in one of my nicest coats and looking very fine as I had just had my hair done. I might also mention that I was in a very nice part of London, not a slum, mind you, and a man – I cannot call him a gentleman because of his question of course, a man saw me and walked over, and said, most brazenly,
(In a man’s cockney voice) ‘How much?’
I looked at him and replied, ‘For what?’
‘For the whole night!’ He responded.
At that point, I realized what he was asking for, and I turned and walked away. He followed in a bit of a huff, removing his wallet from his pocket and, taking my arm, he spun me around, showing me a fistful of hundred pound notes.
‘I have the money!’ He showed me, seeming irritated that I would not believe him.
‘Sir, the answer is no!’ I stood my tallest, which is hard as I am rather short, but I spun away from him to walk away, when I heard him call after me,
(in a man’s gruff voice) If you weren’t working, then why were you wearing that coat!
It took me several days to figure this out, but it made me much more observant about the clothing I purchased.
It turned out that the store which I had frequented for that coat purchase – was also frequented by how do I say this politely?.....ladies of dubious character.
I was horrified, and never wore the coat again, giving it away immediately to a charity for those who have no clothing.
But as the years have gone by, I somehow stopped being horrified by that incident. This happened in direct proportion to the number of years – hence, the older I got, the less horrified I was, now instead wondering…..and this is what led to the poem of course, what if someone…. were to ask me now…..
(She stands straighter, takes a deep breath and looks at the ceiling)
And please forgive me, Miss Strotham, for disobeying all of your well-taught rules about poetry. At age 77, I find I no longer care whatsoever about any rules at all.
(Looks back at the crowd)
Where was I, oh, yes, what if someone, someone probably blind, of course!....were to ask me now…..
(She smiles and stands straight again, recites as if she still in Miss Strotham’s class)
Young man, you are so handsome,
I have a strange request
Is it possible you could listen to an old story
And lay my questions to rest……
Here goes…..
Young man, when I was younger,
I was asked a question odd
How many pounds would I take for me?
As if I was sold by the yard!
I replied that it was rude to inquire
As I was not for sale
I walked away and to this very day
Have never gone down that trail
But as the years …have disappeared,
I find my answer …may have changed
Since no one now asks
And I do miss that task
I wonder if I’m just deranged
So young man, I realize
You look at me now and see
Someone so old
You’d never be so bold
To ever think of asking that question of me…..
Yes, it’s sad for me to think
Now I’m no longer in the pink
If I walked in the road
In a certain kind of clothes
I might not fetch a farthing -k
But….. here’s a new thought
That I may have learned
Perhaps over time - how the tables have turned!
So forgive me please, if this is still rude,
And you don’t have to answer, it’s true….
But…..how much, young man would it cost…..
…… for me….to have…. you?
(She smiles and walks off. The end)
Janet S. Tiger 858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
------------------------------------------------------------------------
added- March 9, 2014
A great actor - and dear friend for many years - has edited the poem - I will be swapping in the new as soon as I figure out how not to erase everything else!
But here it is for those who prefer better poetry- thank you, Jonathan!
Question - Poem
Young man, you are so handsome,
I may have a strange request.
Please listen to my story
And lay my question to rest.
Here goes…..
Young man, when I was younger,
I was asked a question odd:
How many pounds would I ask,
as if I was sold by the yard.
I said it was rude to inquire
Because I was not for sale.
I walked away and to this day
Have never gone down that trail.
But as the years have disappeared,
I find my answer has changed.
People no longer ask (I do miss that task),
And I wonder if I’m deranged.
So, young man, I realize
You look at me now and see
Someone old you’d not be so bold
To think of now asking me.
Yes, it’s sad for me to think
Now I’m no longer in the pink
If I walked in the road
Wearing a certain dress mode
No dreams would I be filling,
No beau would I be thrilling.
I’d fetch not even a shilling.
But, here’s a new thought I’ve learned
Over time (how tables have turned!)
Forgive me if this is rude,
You may think it a bit crude,
But, how much, young man, would it cost…..
For me….to have…. you?
Small print - A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law - the date of the post - and these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED. Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info. These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did -Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.
Help a playwright and get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Two dozen! Coming down the homestretch on month 1
Mar. 8, 2014
The Question (c)
by Janet S. Tiger
© all rights reserved [email protected]
(An older woman comes onstage – she is dressed conservatively, perhaps a bit like, can we say it, the Queen? And she has a twinkle in her eye. She also has a British accent – but you knew that!)
My poem for this evening is based on the reality that every woman in the world – regardless of her age or looks – has at one time – usually when she had less age and more looks – been propositioned. Yes, you can gasp, ladies and gentlemen, but you all know this is true.
It is usually when we have the intelligence and ego to say ‘no’, although, from I what I have heard in this dining room, some of us said ‘yes’- but that is another poem.
When I myself was propositioned, I was 19, dressed in one of my nicest coats and looking very fine as I had just had my hair done. I might also mention that I was in a very nice part of London, not a slum, mind you, and a man – I cannot call him a gentleman because of his question of course, a man saw me and walked over, and said, most brazenly,
(In a man’s cockney voice) ‘How much?’
I looked at him and replied, ‘For what?’
‘For the whole night!’ He responded.
At that point, I realized what he was asking for, and I turned and walked away. He followed in a bit of a huff, removing his wallet from his pocket and, taking my arm, he spun me around, showing me a fistful of hundred pound notes.
‘I have the money!’ He showed me, seeming irritated that I would not believe him.
‘Sir, the answer is no!’ I stood my tallest, which is hard as I am rather short, but I spun away from him to walk away, when I heard him call after me,
(in a man’s gruff voice) If you weren’t working, then why were you wearing that coat!
It took me several days to figure this out, but it made me much more observant about the clothing I purchased.
It turned out that the store which I had frequented for that coat purchase – was also frequented by how do I say this politely?.....ladies of dubious character.
I was horrified, and never wore the coat again, giving it away immediately to a charity for those who have no clothing.
But as the years have gone by, I somehow stopped being horrified by that incident. This happened in direct proportion to the number of years – hence, the older I got, the less horrified I was, now instead wondering…..and this is what led to the poem of course, what if someone…. were to ask me now…..
(She stands straighter, takes a deep breath and looks at the ceiling)
And please forgive me, Miss Strotham, for disobeying all of your well-taught rules about poetry. At age 77, I find I no longer care whatsoever about any rules at all.
(Looks back at the crowd)
Where was I, oh, yes, what if someone, someone probably blind, of course!....were to ask me now…..
(She smiles and stands straight again, recites as if she still in Miss Strotham’s class)
Young man, you are so handsome,
I have a strange request
Is it possible you could listen to an old story
And lay my questions to rest……
Here goes…..
Young man, when I was younger,
I was asked a question odd
How many pounds would I take for me?
As if I was sold by the yard!
I replied that it was rude to inquire
As I was not for sale
I walked away and to this very day
Have never gone down that trail
But as the years …have disappeared,
I find my answer …may have changed
Since no one now asks
And I do miss that task
I wonder if I’m just deranged
So young man, I realize
You look at me now and see
Someone so old
You’d never be so bold
To ever think of asking that question of me…..
Yes, it’s sad for me to think
Now I’m no longer in the pink
If I walked in the road
In a certain kind of clothes
I might not fetch a farthing -k
But….. here’s a new thought
That I may have learned
Perhaps over time - how the tables have turned!
So forgive me please, if this is still rude,
And you don’t have to answer, it’s true….
But…..how much, young man would it cost…..
…… for me….to have…. you?
(She smiles and walks off. The end)
Janet S. Tiger 858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
------------------------------------------------------------------------
added- March 9, 2014
A great actor - and dear friend for many years - has edited the poem - I will be swapping in the new as soon as I figure out how not to erase everything else!
But here it is for those who prefer better poetry- thank you, Jonathan!
Question - Poem
Young man, you are so handsome,
I may have a strange request.
Please listen to my story
And lay my question to rest.
Here goes…..
Young man, when I was younger,
I was asked a question odd:
How many pounds would I ask,
as if I was sold by the yard.
I said it was rude to inquire
Because I was not for sale.
I walked away and to this day
Have never gone down that trail.
But as the years have disappeared,
I find my answer has changed.
People no longer ask (I do miss that task),
And I wonder if I’m deranged.
So, young man, I realize
You look at me now and see
Someone old you’d not be so bold
To think of now asking me.
Yes, it’s sad for me to think
Now I’m no longer in the pink
If I walked in the road
Wearing a certain dress mode
No dreams would I be filling,
No beau would I be thrilling.
I’d fetch not even a shilling.
But, here’s a new thought I’ve learned
Over time (how tables have turned!)
Forgive me if this is rude,
You may think it a bit crude,
But, how much, young man, would it cost…..
For me….to have…. you?
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