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Generation Yuppie
by
Elizabeth Finn
Monologue: Generation-Yuppie
Scene: an office computer at an office desk in an office cubicle. Six-figure
claustrophobia. Scenes like every other corporate scene across America. Our main player is in his
early 30s. Just old enough to feel anxious. He carries the remnants of a painful high school
experience. Perhaps our hero has attended one too many Investment Club meetings. You ever
hear of a swirlie, Mr. Wall Street? We’ll call this sad, misguided soul Andrew.
Mousepad Musings
(Spotlight up. A figure is revealed. A man, slight and balding, sits at a desk
chair in front of a computer.)
My screensaver just switched on. It looks kind of like the beginning of the
Star Wars movies, minus the scrolling words. The glow of my IMAC is starting to make my Northern US pallor a neon green. I haven’t been to
Florida since that drunken spring of ’83. I remember Michael Jackson telling me to
say something, but I think it might have been the Tequila and that cute girl in the bandeau top. I could use
a drink now. All I have is a cup of chicken broth, congealing in a Snoopy coffee mug on top of my
monthly reports. Did you ever notice that Snoopy could never make his own dinner, even though he could write a novel and fly a plane?
The other day, when I was eating Cream of Wheat, I realized that the man on the box looks just like my Uncle Joe. Uncle Joe had a
chocolate lab named Rex, and a brown toupee. I think he got the dog to match the
hairpiece. My Uncle’s biggest accomplishment in life has been the fact that he was present at his son’s high school graduation. Of course, he wasn’t
really there the whole time. He took off in his red Porsche right after the champagne cocktails. (Pause) Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if I
drank that broth. (Spins 90 degrees)
Oh, look at that picture of Darth Vadar in the paper. When I was growing up, Mom took me to see all three Star Wars movies. I always
liked Han Solo the best. He reminded me of my dad. I wonder what my dad was
like. If he hadn’t left that necktie around the bathroom doorknob, I would never know his smell.
Maybe I should buy a new condo. It has a great interest rate on the mortgage. You know, the word equity sounds like when you drop a
penny into a mall fountain. Not a plop or a splash, but almost a… Well, an
‘equity.’
I’ve always wanted to have a pool table. Sometimes I think that if you have a pool table, you’ve really become something in the world. Maybe I’d invite Alan Greenspan over for a game of eight ball. He’s the type of person who donates money to art galleries and museums. Once, I saw a mummy, at the Royal Ontario Museum. Thousands of years of history and all we could do were stare into its vacant eye sockets. I wonder if, when the Egyptians were young they ever thought we’d be observing their bleached bones in a fluorescent light bath. It’s kind of like cubicles in an office. An experiment in human behavior. Twenty-first century exhibit to the left, please. The admission fee is reasonable, but will cost you your life. I don’t mean to sound angry. My life isn’t all that bad. After all, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away..."
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