subway monologue

So here we are.

They say you shouldn’t eavesdrop. But they don’t say what you should do when someone is so loud that you can’t help but overhear. And they also don’t say what you should do when that person is clearly wanting everyone around her to overhear.

So I’m choosing to craft it into a very short one-woman play. Here it is, courtesy of the Q train. Enjoy.

The curtain rises. A woman in her late 20s sits on a crowded subway train, a freakishly large suitcase on the floor beside her. Her long, shiny hair is bumped, her eye makeup is heavy and primarily fuschia. Her winter skin is as tanned as her boots. She is clearly not a New Yorker. She is talking to a guy, but he is merely scenery. He can be played by a cardboard cut-out.

WOMAN: I can’t wait to get back home to L.A. I mean it. It’s crazy here. I’m so fed up. I really am, just, fed up with this city. It’s the people, the stupid people. All they do is complain, you know? About every little thing. That’s the thing I can’t stand. The constant complaining, the bickering. All these people bickering, about I don’t know, me stepping on their feet or taking up room on the train. I mean, it’s crazy. I’ve been in what, three fights with total strangers since we’ve been here? What’s that about? God, I hate them. It’s so petty. I mean, people really need to get some perspective, you know?

Pause.

Because there are literally, like, millions of people starving in the world, you know? Seriously. They’re starving. And people just bicker and I hate them. It’s really frustrating. I’m just so frustrated by New Yorkers. I’ve just had it.

Pause.

I mean, like, after a while I’m just like “don’t talk to me,” you know, don’t even talk to me, because I can’t take it anymore. They just can’t stop with the complaining. I just, I need to get out of here. I need to go home. L.A. is so much better than this. I just can’t take the bickering anymore. All that g*ddamn complaining. It’s driving me crazy.

Pause.

It’s so f*cking cold here.

She looks down at her freakishly large suitcase. It is well-worn, made of black canvas, and printed all over it are hearts... and the word “LOVE.”

BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.

I know. It’s no Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark. But it’s much, much cheaper... and possibly more coherent.

Yes indeed. Welcome to me.

P.S. I swear, the suitcase really did have “LOVE” printed all over it.