(Monologist is eating at a restaurant. Perhaps on a date with a young man in financial services)
I hate the divorce papers. Please get that ketchup away. I don’t know, flag down the waiter. As a little girl I used to love ketchup. Now I can’t look at it without thinking of that monologue. You know that monologue “I Ate the Divorce Papers”? The one that basically haunts every theatre kid’s life. Some guy posted it on the internet and now no matter what monologue you’re looking for online, that’s the one you find. You could type “To Be or Not To Be” into Google and you would get back “To eat the divorce papers or not to eat the divorce papers.” Not! Please Not!
You can’t escape that monologue. I begged our theatre teacher to ban that monologue from our school and … he did! It was heaven. People started doing Moliere and Marlowe and Mamet. Williams and Wild and Wilder. Finally. But then over the summer, that theatre teacher who banned “the divorce papers” won the lottery. So he was gone. And guess what came back? That’s right everyone went right back to chewing the scenery by “eating the divorce papers” and I was so sick of it.
And then my worst nightmare happened. My boyfriend was like, “I’m going to audition for Juilliard with ‘I Ate the Divorce Papers’.” [Monologue continues here.]