copyright © 1999 by Adam Hahn

According to David Harman, This Monologue is All About Sex
by Adam Hahn
353-0275

(Lights Up)
     Monday night, ten fifty-eight PM. I put my jeans in the dryer just a few minutes ago.
     The laundry room is empty, just me, the laundry, and the Coke machine. Here at the University of Iowa, there's always a Coke machine.
     11:03, I lean back, put up my feet, and watch the clothing tumble. I've seen my jeans go around before, and they're getting monotonous. The dryers above them, however hold the most fascinating spectacle that God ever created, women's clothing.
     The dryers aren't just loaded, they're over-loaded, as if the mystery woman put two washer loads into both of them. She is drying everything together, her jeans with her towels with her underwear with her whites with her darks with her t-shirts. All of it is jumping and sticking together and separating and reuniting and separating and reuniting again. It's beautiful.
     11:18, I'm fixated on one pair of her panties. They're white with little pink roses, and it seems like they're dancing just for me.
     11:25, I think I could watch this pair of panties all night.
     11:30, I am trying to stop thinking about her underwear. If I don't do something right now to get my mind off of it, I think I just might get caught doing something very bad.
     I go to my dryer and feel my jeans, but they're still damp. I can't get away.
     11:40, I have checked my jeans about twelve more times.
     Her dryers stop. Thank God, the panties are hidden.
     11:48, I figure that my jeans have to be dry by now. I get up and walk to the dryers. I see the panties. When the dryer stopped they were left on top, just barely out of view.
     They are now just inches away from me, on the other side of a piece of clear plastic. I can see now that the pattern isn't roses after all, it's little pink daisies. And, oh, there are blue ones too.
     I want to play with them, I want to open the dryer and take out that hot piece of fluffed cloth, I want to put it to my face and breath in that fresh warm fabric softened air.
     If I get caught with my face buried in a stranger's underwear, how do I explain it to my girlfriend?
     11:50, I need to get out. I pack my jeans into my laundry bag and leave the panties behind.
     You know, I could have gotten away with it. I could have done anything I wanted. I could be wearing those panties right now.
     In the time that I was alone with the laundry, I could have taken them to the privacy of my dorm room, done whatever I wanted with them, and returned them, slightly damp, to the dryer without anyone seeing a thing.
     (pick an attractive female near the front) That's a cute t-shirt. Where do you do your laundry?
(Lights Down)
"ACCORDING TO DAVID HARMAN, THIS MONOLOGUE IS ALL ABOUT SEX" IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR


AUTHOR'S NOTES FOR THE NO SHAME FIRST AID KIT:
For performance anywhere outside of Iowa City, the line about the Coke Machine should be omitted.


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