Monthly Archives: September 2016

Hollywood, irony, old age

OLD MODELS

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[A handsome, twenty-something-year-old man with the perfect 5 o’clock shadow. He gives off an air of aloofness while seeming overly concerned with himself.]

“I’m an actor…  but I make my living as a valet in a fancy Hollywood restaurant.

I know… I’m a walking cliché. 

Anyway, we get all types pulling up to the curb… the ones who always complain, the ones who never tip, the trophy wives in their SUVs, the  midlife crisis douches in their flashy cars.

But there’s one group in particular that I find very interesting. It’s always an older person, not terribly old… late fifties, early sixties… and they never look their age… tall, lean, elegant; you can tell they were very attractive when they were younger, a lot of them still are.

The weird part is they all drive cars from the seventies and eighties, and mostly Mercedes-Benz. But no normal Mercedes; they’ve got limited editions or high-end models with all the bells and whistles from the time, vanity plates, custom paint jobs… the works.

I could never put my finger on why they drove around what were practically collector’s cars or how they got them in the first place. 

Until the other day this older woman came to the restaurant in her ’79 Mercedes convertible. A beauty, her and the car. 

When I got behind the wheel to park it, I noticed a leather folder on the passenger seat. I couldn’t help but to take a peek.

It was the lady’s modeling portfolio from when she was younger. I wasn’t surprised… she had the look.

But then I realized the photos were the answer to the mystery.

All those attractive grandparents were models or actors back in the day. They must have hit it big in their early twenties and burned through their paychecks buying luxurious cars, thinking success would last forever.

I felt bad for the pretty old lady, for all of them… obsolete. Out of place and time, chewed up and spit out by Hollywood.

That thought scared the shit out of me…

So much so I’m no longer buying that Porsche when I get my big break.“

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016

death, love, old age

ROUGH TRANSLATION

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[A U.S. born Latina wearing nurse’s scrubs and a name tag that reads, “Rosa Hernandez.”)

“People think being a nurse is pretty straight-forward… you just help whoever needs help.

But sometimes is not that simple.

Like once, when I had this patient, an old Mexican widower who seemed very distinguished despite being in the final stages of dementia… There wasn’t much we could do for him, just make him feel comfortable while he was with us.

When his condition worsened and he became violent, the only solution was to keep him sedated…

From that point on, he seemed to forget English and only spoke in Spanish. This was a big problem for his children because none of them spoke a lick of it…

So when one of them saw my name, they grabbed me and asked me to translate.

But despite all appearances, I barely speak Spanish and only half understand it.

They seemed so desperate though… I couldn’t refuse.

So I listened to the old man, caught a word here and there, like “agua” or “frío” and then I made up the rest.

When his time came, we reduced the sedatives so he could say goodbye to his children… Oh, and did he ever!

Again, I’m not that confident about my Spanish, but I could swear he was saying how angry he was at them, how lonely he had felt the last years of his life, how ignored…

He had especially harsh words for his older son, whom I’m pretty positive he called the disappointment of his life.

To be fair, it was hard to tell if he really meant what he was saying, or if it was the drugs and dementia talking.

He rambled on for a while until he passed.

His children immediately asked me what his last words meant… So I told them: “He wanted you to know he loved you very much.”

They were all very thankful… especially his older son.

And that’s why I say my job’s not that simple…

I’m not sure who I helped that day.”

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016

economy, politics

THE CORP AND THE CORPSE

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[A man around fifty-years-old in a suit.] 

“Remember that industrial waste spill a few years back? The one that contaminated our bay and drove all the fishermen out of business?

I was one of the lawyers who represented the fishermen in the civil suit against the corporation responsible. And, as you probably now, after two long years of litigation the jury came back with a non-guilty verdict.

My clients couldn’t believe it; They were crushed… they couldn’t grasp how the clear culprit of could get off scot-free like that…

So I told them this story to help them understand.

I asked them to imagine they find a corpse stabbed several times… and right next to the body there’s this guy holding a big knife that’s dripping with blood.

The guy, the obvious suspect, doesn’t resist arrest. In fact, he’s very courteous and fully collaborates with the police.

As expected, he gets charged with murder. But when the trial starts, to everyone’s surprise, he declares he didn’t do it. He assures the court it was actually his right hand, who, acting on its own accord, pushed the knife into the victim’s body.

So then they call the guy’s right hand to the stand. And among his sobbing, the hand states he happened to just be holding the knife when the guy’s feet started walking toward the victim.

To confirm the hand’s story, they call in the guy’s feet to testify. First, the right foot, who quickly clarifies it was the left foot who took the first step.

Under duress, the left foot accuses the guy’s heart of forcing him to commit the crime since he couldn’t have moved without its constant supply of blood.

The heart is also called in and, in a big twist, he blames the brain for everything… He calls it the mastermind.

And you may think this is the whole truth… Of course, the brain did it!

But not really because the brain quickly excuses himself by pointing out it was the guy’s eyes who selected the victim…

In turn, the eyes accuse the mouth of being the one who called out to the victim; the mouth does something similar to the ears, the ears to the nose, etc.

In the end, the case is so tangled and convoluted that it’s impossible to lay any blame on the guy… or his limbs.

So he walks out a free man. Just like in our case against the corporation.

Because although many of its members showed up for the trial…

There wasn’t a single conscience among them.”

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016