LBH (lostbuthappy) wrote in letswrite,
LBH
lostbuthappy
letswrite

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Okay, here's my attempt at a comic monologue, and I hope you all enjoy, or tear it to shreds so that I can fix it. Either way, it should be a good time, right?


Alex, age 17

So today was the first day of driving school, right? And I’m there sitting in the corner because the rest of the room is filled with these freshman girls in track suits. It’s like they all decided to come out and blind me with those pink jacket things. And there’re some skinny guys in worn out jeans around me. They’re sort of just staring at the walls. Nobody’s next to me though. Who the hell wants to sit next to the seventeen year old with the lip ring? Not that I give a fuck. I’m just there to pass the test, right? Pretty much all I want is for the lady in the front to shut the hell up about turn signals. The lecture was just painful…three hours of “what sign is this?” and “don’t drive drunk, kids”. The only reason I want to drive is to get out of the house so I don’t have to play video games all day. And there’s no way in hell I can get to Dave’s house without a car. My mom thinks he’s the antichrist and he’s going to get me drunk and rape me or something.
At lunch break I went to this place around the corner to get some pizza, and I see this guy sitting in front reading something. He’s just gorgeous, kinda skinny, black messy hair. I’m not usually into guys who give off emo vibes, but this one’s different. He’s got to be ten years older, and I’m sure there’s no way in hell he likes punk girls, even if I’m not exactly hardcore. So I think, “fuck it,” and get my pizza. But something makes me sit on the patio thing, sort of close to him. He’s still reading some book, and I’m getting curious and whatever, so I look for the title. It’s High Fidelity. I love that book. So right now, I don’t give that I have a pothead boyfriend who can’t fucking drive, and he probably has a nice blond girlfriend, and plus I’m underage, and I’m thinking how I can start talking to this guy. He’s staring at the book, and it’s not like I can just go over to him and tell him that I want to wake up next to him. And by now, anyone can see that I want this guy. I’m almost drooling.
I consider my options. One, I could do the spastic thing and spill my soda walking past him, which gets his attention but also gets me a giant stain on my shirt. Two, I go up to him and ask him for a light, but I don’t have any cigarettes on me, and what if he doesn’t smoke? I look like an idiot. Three, I say something about the book, which gives me maybe ten to thirty seconds of conversation before I have to think of something to say again. In other words, I’m screwed.
But then he starts getting up to leave, and all I can think about is how much I want to talk to him, so I stand up too. He has to walk past me on the way out, and he doesn’t look like he’s trying to get somewhere quickly. I’m panicking, because all I can see in my head is me and him and how great we’d look together. Not like me and Dave the Dropout. But my options pretty much suck. At this point, he’s about to pass me, and the book’s in full view in his hand, so I try to look cool, and I say, “hey, High Fidelity, I love that book.” Real fucking suave…right. He turns to look at me, and he has these gorgeous bright blue eyes that I have to stare at, and he says, “yeah, me too.” We just look at each other for a couple seconds. I don’t know what the hell he thinks of me and the lip ring, and I’m too stunned to think what to do next. I’m such a fucking spaz. It never changes.
It's really awkward between us for a couple seconds, and then I say “I’m Alex,” out of desperation. He says, “hey, I’m Marc” and then the awkwardness is back. I was just hoping he wouldn’t ask me how old I was, or if it hurt to get my lip done, or anything like that. I’m staring at him, trying to think of something, and he’s running his fingers through his hair, and then I notice what he’s wearing. Black shirt, white collar. He’s a fucking priest. How the hell am I supposed to be prepared for that? “Hello father, would you like a blowjob after mass? Or perhaps during confession?” I’m completely freaked out, and he’s waiting for me to say something. I manage to do a decent job of hiding my shock, and I say something like, “so I’ll see you around”, and we walk away. I of course felt like a complete moron, and then I had another three and a half hours of listening to that lady bitch about “those idiotic people on the road who’re all out to lunch,” and drawing sketches of the tracksuit girls in my note book. It's going to do things to my brain.
But seriously, why would you waste such gorgeous eyes on the Catholic church? Hell if I know.
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