A Story About Tits
by Zachary Robertson
(lights up, ZACHARY and WOMAN standing on opposite sides of the stage, facing the audience)
Zachary: So there I was... driving down the street in my new love machine that I had just bought earlier that week. It was a big van, kind of hard to maneuver on the streets... but hey, at least it was mine. And then I saw her... She was so beautiful that I thought the first time I saw her I would lose all control. All I could see was her, all I could think about was her. I thought I should stop and say hello. I thought maybe... just maybe she was having the same kind of moment I was.
Woman: I couldn’t believe my eyes. There, emblazoned on the side of his van in bright bold letters was "Self taught gynecologist"!
Zachary: I was praying to the gods that she would give me a sign that she wanted me to stop. And there it was! I saw the sign! She raised her hand to me... and I stopped my van.
Woman: I was giving him the finger, and the retard stops the van.
Zachary: And I hopped out of the van, not caring that it was in the middle of the road. I figured, hell, if UPS can do it why can’t I? Rushing over to my newfound lover I was caught up in thoughts of romance and love. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to woo her heart. Whatever she wanted, whatever she desired I would place at her alter. I was the luckiest an on earth to be able to talk to her...
Woman: He looked like he wanted to hump my leg.
Zachary: I really wanted to hump her leg. But I resisted! I was to be her knight in shining armor and how would it look if this goddess of beauty had a shiny can humping one of her perfect legs? No, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. So I decided to introduce myself. I extended my hand and said: "Hello, my name is.... my name is..." And I froze. I couldn’t remember my name! My brain went into panic mode. I needed a name, I needed a name now!
Woman: He told me his name was Peter Jennings.
Zachary: Now I had lied to the woman I loved! How could I do such a thing? How could I commit such a terrible act? I was scum. I sucked. In the simplest terms, the most convenient definitions I was the devil. Then... then I had a creative flash! It was as if the fog had lifted--
Woman: I think he farted.
Zachary: And with the pressure now gone I remembered my real name! "I am Zachary!" I said to her. "And I have remembered my real name!" To which she replied:
Woman: You want a cookie?
Zachary: And I thought... yes... yes, I would like a cookie. A cookie at this point sounds very, very good. So I asked her for the offered cookie.
Woman: As I was about to explain to him the meaning of rhetorical I remembered that I did indeed have a cookie in my bra. I keep them there because sometimes the monkeys at the lab are my only friends.
Zachary: And much to my suprise I watched as she reached inside her shirt and pulled out a cookie. My first thought was "Oh my god! Cookie producing tits!" This is a great thing! Milk and cookies in one package, how lucky could a man get?
Woman: And he started getting the look that the monkeys get after the shots.
Zachary: She began to look like she was afraid of me. How could this marvelous woman, with her equally marvelous breasts be afraid of an unintimidating guy like myself?
Woman: He started to move toward my leg.
Zachary: At that point I realized that only one of her breasts was nice. One distributed warm chewy morsels of chocolate-filled goodness while the other issued forth nothing more than pain and tears.
Woman: So I maced him. And you know... looking back I kind of feel guilty about that.
Zachary: I crawled back to my van and I got inside and started to drive away. Through the tears and pain I watched her fade into the distance in my rearview mirror and I knew that I would never be able to love any other woman like I loved her.
(lights down, end)
