Egg
by Adam Hahn

(Bring up the lights as soon as the previous performers have left the stage. The monologue begins as the stage is cleared and set.)

     I wanted to call this piece, "One Metaphor, Five Minutes, and Three Dozen Eggs", but I decided to go with the shorter title, "Egg" to be nice to Dan. I threatened to kill him last week, and I felt kind of bad about that.
(Position table center stage, open egg cartons and line them up on the edge of the table facing the audience)
     This monologue is about relationships. The first first thing that I'd like to say is that you should always (pull out trash bags, cover table legs) use protection. (Lay trash bags on the floor on either side of the table. Sit.)
     There comes a point in every young person's life when he or she meets another young person who seems unlike everyone else. Someone special. Someone beautiful. Between these two young people, something magical develops, (take egg and put it on the middle of the table) something that seems unlike anything that either has ever experienced.
     The idea of a relationship is new to both of them. It's exciting and playful. (play with egg, roll it around on the table) It's an adventure. (spin egg)
     They are also clumsy and foolish, and that clumsiness, (role egg off edge of the table) is terminal.
     This is how young people first experience heartbreak. This hurts like Hell, not because the relationship was particularly good, or because the breakup was all that bitter, but because it was the first, and the end came as a total surprise. The first time, each of us foolishly believes that one playful infatuation could last for the rest of our lives.
     (downward, to the broken egg on the floor) For a long time afterward, it feels like that feeling of being broken will never go away.
     Of course, we get over it. We move on with our lives, we meet someone else, and we start again. (produce another egg)
     It goes really well for a while, but we worry because we can't forget the things that went wrong the first time. Unfortunately, we don't learn from them. (roll off other side of table)
     We keep trying, but we just don't learn. (roll off another egg)
     We move on. (play with another egg) We try again. Maybe the next one, (pick up egg) just gets boring. (toss down)
     We keep trying, and we fall into a rhythm.
     (another egg) Your fault.
     (another egg) Her fault.
     (another egg) Nobody's fault.
     (another egg) Her thighs are too flabby.
     (another egg) She makes out with your best friend.
     (another egg) You hit on her sister.
     (another egg) You lie.
     (another egg) You tell the truth.
     (another egg) You say too much.
     (another egg) You say too little.
     (another egg, hold this one up while pointing to mess on the floor) Her. The one with the big thighs. You yell out her name at exactly the wrong moment.
     (another egg) It's not you.
     (another egg) It's me.
     (another egg) We can still be friends.
     (continue throwing down eggs) You can pretend that it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Nothing hurts. Nothing gets to you. You can pretend (stop, holding egg) that each one doesn't feel just as bad as the first. (drop)
     It never stops hurting because every time you know (pick up another egg) that this could be the one that you hold onto forever, that you spend the rest of your life with, but you always end up letting go. (drop)
     (put one egg at the center of the table, hide face in hands, pause, to egg) Wait. Just. . . Just wait.
     You have to stop blaming them. (Stand, get trash bag.) Learn to forgive. It's not easy. (clean up trash bags on one side of the table, collecting egg mess)
     It's even harder to forgive yourself, (clean up other side) to admit how much of each mess was really your fault but to stop using that as an excuse to make more.
     Acknowledge just how bad they were, (use paper towels to wipe stage floor) how much they hurt then, and how much they still hurt now.
     Stop accepting as fact that none of them can be permanent. Don't think of this one as just one more in a never-ending series.
     Stop weighing your alternatives. (empty any eggs remaining in cartons into trash bag)
     Stop assuming. Stop trying to push this one into the same stupid patterns that you've been practicing over and over again instead of trying to learn something new.
     (put on jacket, pick up egg off table) This one is just as fragile as all the others, and you are only slightly better prepared to handle it. This time you are exactly one messy breakup more experienced than the fool who broke the last one, and you are only one long series of messes more mature than the na‹ve adolescent who broke the first one.
     You are going to make mistakes. (look at egg) Both of you are going to make mistakes. They're not all worth breaking up over.
     You know, this could be the one. This one could last forever. (put egg in inside jacket pocket)

(lights down)

• October 1, 1999 - No Shame Iowa City
  

  Performed by Adam Hahn

• June 5, 2005 - National Best of No Shame at Piccolo Spoleto (Charleston)
  

  Performed by Adam Hahn

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