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A monologue from the play by John Guare
Oh, I love you! You said you’ll come with me to see the Pope! That’s tantamount to a promise. Tantamount. Tantamount. You hear that?
I didn’t work in a law office for nix. I could sue you for breach of promise. (Near tears) I know what you’re going to say—
I won’t cook for you—You bend my arm and twist my heart, but I got to be strong. Now rinse your mouth out to freshen up and come on, let’s go.
It’s really cold out so dress warm—loook, I stuffed the New York Post in my booties—plastic just ain’t as warm as it used to be.
I won’t cook for you! I cooked veal parmigeena for me last night. It was so good I almost died. But I won’t cook for you till after we’re married.
I’m no that kind of girl. I’ll sleep with you anytime you want. Anywhere. In two months I’ve know you, did I refuse you once? Not once!
You want me to climb in the bag with you right now? Unzip it—go on—unzip it—Give your fingers a smack and I’m flat on my back.
I’ll sew those words into a sampler for you in our new home in California. We’ll hang it right by the front door.
Because, Artie, I’m a rotten lay and I know it and you know it and everybody knows it—I’m not good in bed. It’s no insult.
I took that sex test in the Reader’s Digest two weeks ago and I scored twelve. Twelve, Artie!! I ran out of that dentist office with tears gushing out of my face.
But I face up to the truth about myself. So if I cooked for you now and said I won’t sleep with you till we’re married,
you’d look forward to sleeping with me so much that by the time we did get to that motel near Hollywood, I’d be such a disappointment, you’d never forgive me.
My cooking is the only thing I got to lure you on with and hold you with. Artie, we got to keep some magic for the honeymoon.
It’s my first honeymoon and I want it to be so good, I’m aiming for two million calories. I want to cook for you so bad I walk by the A&P,
I get all hot jabs of chili powder inside my thighs…but I can’t till we get those tickets to California safe in my purse,
till Billy knows we’re coming, till I got that ring right on my cooking finger…Don’t tempt me….I love you…
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