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A monologue by Joan Forster
SHERRY (early twenties)
Sherry is standing outside City Hall, about to go and get married, when she tells her husband to be, Bobby, something she’s never told him before.
Bobby, there’s just one or two little things I’d like to mention before we go in there . . . after all,
marriage is forever and two people who have found themselves in this situation should know every last detail about each other, don’t you agree?
You can tell me all your quirks, but let me go first, because I’m a little nervous.
And I’m only closing my eyes while I share this with you because if I look at you while I say it, it’ll never get said, so no interruptions . . . okay?
well . . . you know how you can sshhh me with a kiss when I get going. Anyway, Bobby, I think you should know . . . I get these headaches.
Not big ones . . . little ones . . . little migraines. They just sneak up on me when I least expect it and they can hang on for days, the buggers.
I mention this only because they can sometimes interfere with . . . you know . . . things . . . oh, you know.
My shrink says I’m repressing some—oh, I never mentioned a shrink, did I? well . . . a few years ago . . .
oh, it’s nothing, really . . . well . . . a few years ago I had a little tiny, itty, bitty nothing—and I mean nothing—breakdown.
It was nothing. I’m fine and I don’t know what everybody’s so worried about! I spent about six months in a sanitarium
—and what the hell, I had nothing important going on in my life at the time anyway— it was like a country club, Bobby.
I mean, I laugh about it now. Anyway . . . as I was saying about my shrink . . . . He thinks I’m—oh, it’s ridiculous . . .
most of what he says is a lot of horse manure but daddy pays him a hundred and fifty an hour so he gets to be right.
I keep threatening to get rid of him but he’s number twenty-two and daddy says a hundred and fifty’s a bargain.
Well, I don’t care what that quack says, if there’s anything that can cure a headache it’s a big fat shopping spree at Bloomingdale’s or Saks . . .
oh, I know that’s a nothing thing to you, Bobby . . .though I do tend to go a wee bit overboard with my charge cards …
which is why I think it might be a good idea to reconsider daddy’s offer to bring you into the business, Bobby.
Daddy says I’m the most expensive child he’s ever known, and if daddy with all his money says that, what chance do we have without his help?
I know how much you like to be your own man, Bobby, but you’ll see how reasonable daddy can be once he knows you’re on his side . . .
which is why I want you to promise me that you’ll always, always—like everyone in my family—vote Republican, Bobby,
and end this silly rebellious stand of yours like registering as an independent.
You would be an absolute saint in daddy’s eyes and it would be good practice for when the children arrive.
when my little boy and girl enter this world—and I want you to promise me we’ll keep trying in that department till we get it right—
when they arrive I want them to have a very stable family background . . . there’s nothing that confuses children more than constant bickering among family members—
God knows, look what happened to me— (short pause) and this sex thing, Bob? All I can say is, thank God we’re getting married so I don’t have to fake it anymore.
well, Bobby . . . these are just a few of the things that are important to me. I’m ready to take the plunge now!
(Sherry nervously opens her eyes and looks around slowly, calling out.) Bobby? . . . Bobby? . . . Bobby?
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