M.W.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Monologue: For Bramley, Mae West was more than just a short-term love affair. (A paralleled monologue told from his NYC apartment.)

Submitted: September 17, 2012

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Submitted: September 17, 2012

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"A horn! A damn horn this early on a Sunday? I can't believe how inconsiderate some of these cab drivers are. I mean can't a guy have one day of sleeping in?! I should have left the Big Apple years ago! Now look at me... I'm 53 years old today. Another May 14th of looking in the mirror and seeing how she drug me to this damn city. I should have stayed in Los Angeles working as an intern for Dick Cavett on his show instead of, ahhh forget it! Who knows where I would be today. Certainly not New York! But no Bramley, you just had to do it! Just had to go walking by her dressing room to get a glimpse of her! Any other 20 year old wouldn't have done such a thing. I should have never watched that movie to begin with. If I didn't have that free ticket to the show I wouldn't even know what the film Myra Breckenridge was. How could I be such an idiot! Most men my age would have the hots for the other two in the movie! Hell, men my age now still have the hots for Raquel Welch and Farrah Fawcett! But no, Bramley. No. No. No. She's the one you like. She's the hot one. She's the experienced one. So put down Mr. Cavett's coffee, and just walk by one time. Yea sure, the thoughts were there...she might not even be in there. She might not even show up for filming. Everybody on the set said she has a reputation for being late anyway. Why get nervous? Why be afraid? Take a risk for your birthday Bramley. What a damn joke!

Hey cabbie down there, shut the hell up! Have some respect! Its my birthday! Birthday-smirthday! Who cares! I ruined it. I walked by her dressing room. Big fat sparkling gold star on the darn door that said “M.W.” Why didn't I just take Mr. Cavett his hot coffee? Oh no, I looked around and no one is looking, so I just stand there in front of the star on the door. Keep looking at her initials and reading them over and over like some crazy creep. Mr. Cavett's coffee is getting cold and you can just walk away. But no Bramley...why do the smart thing when you can just completely screw everything up! I can't believe this cab driver beeping his horn for the neighbor is such a jerk! My alarm clock hasn't even gone off yet! Am I really 53 today? Where did the time go? Oh wait, I know exactly where it went. It went right into Studio 17 May 14th, 1976. Right into her dressing room. Yea, I reached to turn the knob of her dressing room door, took one last look around before going in. Damn Bramley, you old devil...that was your last chance to not get mixed up in all her mess. I just turned the knob and stepped on in to her dressing room. My stomach was a infested with butterflies. But that scent that punch me in the nose, pulled me right on in. I'll never forget that smell...it was as if she were doused in sunflowers, lemon grass, and ocean air. It was the freshest smell I'd ever had the pleasure of getting a whiff of. Not like this old smelly, dirty, disgusting studio I'm now living in, in the Bronx!

Thinking back, I never understood why her dressing room was redecorated. I mean, I had been in the room several times to clean it up since that's what us interns are forced to do in television. It's as if she had some high class decorator from West Hollywood remodel the whole room to fit her classy style. A room that is usually just brick walls and lights around that old cracked mirror, like my apartment now, had transformed into pink shear everywhere with 9 vases of white roses throughout...1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...wow, what a room! What a girl! Then there she was...behind the screen fastening her dress while humming the tune “Come On Over To My House” by Rosemary Clooney. It was at that second I loved her. Yea, loved her. Or at least what I thought love was at that age. I didn't care that she was so much older than me. She stepped out from that screen looking like a mature sexy vixen. Bramley, you should've turned and left before she said one single word! Fat chance! In her typical flirtatious voice, she said “Well, well, well, you're the little intern hanging around my door.” I could have just said something corny like sorry. I could have said I had the wrong room. Nope! Not me! Consistent if anything, Bramley just stands there! As she slowly and seductively walks to me, I stand there intrigued with her beauty. She grins, and I say, my name is Bramley, Miss. She didn't respond with words. She responded with a kiss. A deep passionate tongue down my throat kind of kiss! When the door opened, there stood her manager in shock that we were now both naked on the floor with just one piece of pink shear over us. The domino effect happens from there...her manager tells my manager, my manager tells Dick Cavett...next words I hear...”Bramley, you're fired! You will never work in this town again!”

I wish I could fire this cab driver who is now banging on my neighbor's door in 2B! As she filmed the Dick Cavett show, I was escorted out. What a birthday that was. Great, it's raining and I'm waiting for the bus to get me back to my apartment on Fairfax. Guess who drives by? ...It's her. “Hop in baby, and I'll take you on the ride of your life.” And she wasn't kidding. We lived together in Manhattan for the next year before she dumped me on my 21st birthday for a younger guy! How typical! Look at me, I still haven't recovered! She was a cougar before they called them cougars! She was the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. At least my neighbor finally left in his cab ride. Now I'm going to head down to 183rd and pick up some sunflowers, a birthday cake and rent one of her movies. I miss ya Mae. I really do miss ya."


© Copyright 2017 Mark Anthony Parker Adkins. All rights reserved.

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