Scene Detail
"I used to call it The Curse of Prince Charming.”
| From: the Thirst collection |
| Gender |
Age |
Character Name |
| Female |
Adult: Any Age |
ROZ |
Setup:
Roz wonders if perhaps she's romantically jinxed.
(Part of the scene this speech is contained within, DENTS, is also available for viewing via the quote link "There are days I wish I hadn’t picked up that phone the second time and just ended up on his doorstep. See what happened.")
(Two other monologues precede this one for the complete romantic misadventures of Roz. They can be viewed via the quote links - (1) "I tried to be a good sport. But I could never remember her name" and (2) "...the thought of running my hands down into the small of his back still gives me chills.")
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The full scripts of the plays "Invisible," "Dents," "Template," and "Head Above Water" from "The Thirst Collection" are available for purchase as part of "Short Plays, Volume 2" (in hard copy or download form) at
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/short-plays-volume-2/1402397
Part of Matthew's online script store
http://stores.lulu.com/matthewaeverett
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Monologuecopyright 2004 by Matthew A. Everett
ROZ
So I’m this great transition person. I get them all primed and ready. People meet me right before something or someone big is about to happen to them, and I make it easy to let the magic happen. I used to call it “The Curse of Prince Charming.” Now I just try to avoid talking about it. You give the jinx a name, you give it air time, it’s like summoning it down on your head all over again. I used to think it was a funny story to use when dating. All it really seemed to do was make guys wonder if there might not be someone just over my shoulder they should be looking out for instead.
I’m not sure I trust myself anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful I haven’t had the bad luck some of my friends have had. Abusive relationships, addictive relationships, charming trips to the free clinic. In terms of serious consequences, I’ve gotten off easy. After awhile, though, when the only common denominator in all your failed relationship attempts is you, well, you start to wonder --
I miss it though. The anticipation. The all-consuming infatuation. Scary as it is, it’s fun. To be that hopeful.
I don’t think hearts break or bruise so much as they just accumulate scar tissue. They harden.
A friend of mine likens each screwed up romantic opportunity to a paper cut on your heart. Sometimes with salt or with lemon juice mixed in for good measure, depending on the severity. Paper cuts are almost insulting. There’s never a lot of blood involved. Sometimes afterward you can’t even see them. You feel stupid for getting them. They refuse to heal quickly and easily because you keep rubbing up against them the wrong way. They’re such a part of the daily routine that you can’t help but always have the ingredients handy for it to happen again, and again, and again. And no matter how careful you are, sometimes because you’re too careful, sometimes because you forget - it happens. Again. So after a while you just find a way to stay away from all those reams of paper and cardboard and manilla folders and envelopes.
I don’t think I’ve given up. I don’t feel like I’ve given up. But I don’t think about it anymore. It used to bother me and now it doesn’t even cross my mind. So is that healthy, or does that mean I’ve really given up and just don’t realize it?
copyright 2004 by Matthew A. Everett
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