Monologues for men | "Road to Ruin; Paved with Kittens" by Gabriel Davis
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Road to Ruin; Paved with Kittens
Monologues for men, comedic
by Gabriel Davis
The road to ruin is paved with kittens.
Althea and I were so happy. In our little fourth floor walkup on the lower east side, we didn’t have much but we had each other. At night, we’d punctuate the hours with the steady hum of our own love making and then drift to sleep in each other’s arms, whispering to each other dreams of an extravagant wedding we could never afford.
Until one day that little kitten wandered into our apartment through an open window and changed everything. Althea liked the kitten and said she’d keep it and care for it. It was a mangy, skinny little thing with wild unkempt white fur. She’d feed it cream in a bowl and it’d lap it up hungrily. It made her happy, and I liked to see her happy.
She doted on that little kitty. Loved it, rubbed its little belly which grew bigger by the day, what with all the cream she fed it, and it’d just lie there and purr, purr, purr. I started to feel something strange creeping in. I guess you could call it jealousy. But what kind of man is jealous of a kitty?
One time while watching Althea rub that kitty’s belly, I actually caught myself thinking “When was the last time she’d rubbed my belly like that?” I tried to keep such thoughts at bay and calm myself.
Until one night, I couldn’t sleep and wandered into the living room. The kitty lie atop the upright piano. I walked over to it. Looked at it, it’s large well tended belly exposed, it’s legs splayed out to either side. Remnants of rich cream sticking to the fur around its mouth.
I whispered to it “You’re a deadbeat, you know that? All you do is lap up cream and sleep. What do you contribute to this household, huh?” Jealousy had turned to something darker. I wanted the kitty gone. I opened the window and took the kitten in my hands. “Why don’t you go back out into the streets and fend for yourself; and leave Althea and I alone!”
That’s when Althea entered. She’d heard the commotion. She demanded I tell her what was going on, and what I was doing with the kitty. “You want to know what I’m doing with this Kitty? I’m throwing it out the window!” I cried.
She was looking at me like I was a monster. “Don’t look at me like that!” I said, “The way you rubs its belly like that, you don’t rub my belly like that anymore!”
And she says “You’re a man, not a cat and I’ve never rubbed your belly like that!” And I say “Well maybe I want you to! Maybe I want you to rub my belly the way you rub the kitty’s belly.” That’s when I exposed my belly and said “Rub it! Prove you still love me! Rub it!”
That’s when she said maybe I had better go spend the night at my brother’s place, and could I please put the cat down. I put the cat down and left her for the night. The next day, I came to her, apologized, but Althea had seen a side of me she didn’t like. She said she just couldn’t see herself long term with a man who would feel jealous of a kitten. Besides, the kitten needed more space and she’d given it my old room.
“It’s only been one night!” I said, “What do you mean given the kitten my room!” It was over. Since then, I’ve tried to let her go, let it go. But sometimes I can’t help myself. I’ll walk down our old street and look up at the apartment. The kitten is usually in the window, staring down at me. I feel like it has a smug look on its face. But that’s impossible, it’s a kitten, I tell myself. Or is it? That kitten is living the life I should have lived. It’s with the woman I should have had. I really do believe the road to ruin is paved with kittens.
But enough about me. I know it’s not polite to go on about past relationships on a first date. And you haven’t told me anything about yourself yet.
Althea and I were so happy. In our little fourth floor walkup on the lower east side, we didn’t have much but we had each other. At night, we’d punctuate the hours with the steady hum of our own love making and then drift to sleep in each other’s arms, whispering to each other dreams of an extravagant wedding we could never afford.
Until one day that little kitten wandered into our apartment through an open window and changed everything. Althea liked the kitten and said she’d keep it and care for it. It was a mangy, skinny little thing with wild unkempt white fur. She’d feed it cream in a bowl and it’d lap it up hungrily. It made her happy, and I liked to see her happy.
She doted on that little kitty. Loved it, rubbed its little belly which grew bigger by the day, what with all the cream she fed it, and it’d just lie there and purr, purr, purr. I started to feel something strange creeping in. I guess you could call it jealousy. But what kind of man is jealous of a kitty?
One time while watching Althea rub that kitty’s belly, I actually caught myself thinking “When was the last time she’d rubbed my belly like that?” I tried to keep such thoughts at bay and calm myself.
Until one night, I couldn’t sleep and wandered into the living room. The kitty lie atop the upright piano. I walked over to it. Looked at it, it’s large well tended belly exposed, it’s legs splayed out to either side. Remnants of rich cream sticking to the fur around its mouth.
I whispered to it “You’re a deadbeat, you know that? All you do is lap up cream and sleep. What do you contribute to this household, huh?” Jealousy had turned to something darker. I wanted the kitty gone. I opened the window and took the kitten in my hands. “Why don’t you go back out into the streets and fend for yourself; and leave Althea and I alone!”
That’s when Althea entered. She’d heard the commotion. She demanded I tell her what was going on, and what I was doing with the kitty. “You want to know what I’m doing with this Kitty? I’m throwing it out the window!” I cried.
She was looking at me like I was a monster. “Don’t look at me like that!” I said, “The way you rubs its belly like that, you don’t rub my belly like that anymore!”
And she says “You’re a man, not a cat and I’ve never rubbed your belly like that!” And I say “Well maybe I want you to! Maybe I want you to rub my belly the way you rub the kitty’s belly.” That’s when I exposed my belly and said “Rub it! Prove you still love me! Rub it!”
That’s when she said maybe I had better go spend the night at my brother’s place, and could I please put the cat down. I put the cat down and left her for the night. The next day, I came to her, apologized, but Althea had seen a side of me she didn’t like. She said she just couldn’t see herself long term with a man who would feel jealous of a kitten. Besides, the kitten needed more space and she’d given it my old room.
“It’s only been one night!” I said, “What do you mean given the kitten my room!” It was over. Since then, I’ve tried to let her go, let it go. But sometimes I can’t help myself. I’ll walk down our old street and look up at the apartment. The kitten is usually in the window, staring down at me. I feel like it has a smug look on its face. But that’s impossible, it’s a kitten, I tell myself. Or is it? That kitten is living the life I should have lived. It’s with the woman I should have had. I really do believe the road to ruin is paved with kittens.
But enough about me. I know it’s not polite to go on about past relationships on a first date. And you haven’t told me anything about yourself yet.