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Beau Jest
Beau Jest
By James Sherman


(There is nothing I can say about this monologue, except that I like it. It's possible to pull off as a duet but it's not much from Bob.)


SARAH: The whole thing is so stupid. But my parents... Well, you know...They're my parents. My dad was sick last year. My mother's been so tense. I just can't give them any grief right now. The worst of it was after I told them I'd stopped seeing Chris. They assumed I wasn't seeing anybody. So my mother kept trying to fix me up with sons of friends and relatives and I don't know - strangers she'd meet on the street. I don't know where she found these guys. But my mother is determined to make me happy. Whether I like it or not. One time, I went to their house for dinner and she had clipped personal ads out of a magazine for me. Can you imagine? Looking down at your dinner plate and seeing brisket on one side and "S.W.M., mid-thirties, Jewish" on the other?
[Bob: Ooh.]
SARAH: Really, I mean, I know she means well, but...So, anyway, just so they'd feel better a few months ago, I told them I'd started seeing someone. I just invented a boyfriend.
[Bob: Oh. And that's...]
SARAH: Right.
[Bob: Wow.]
SARAH: Well, my mother's been driving me crazy with "When are we going to meet him?" "When are we going to meet this nice Jewish boy?" I just couldn't put it off anymore. She'll probably want to light candles. I thought about asking one of my friends to be my stand-in beau for the evening, but, frankly, I'm too embarrassed by the whole thing for anybody I know to know about it. So I called your agency. You must think this is extremely weird.
[Bob: Well, I must admit, I expected you to be a little old lady who needed a dinner companion... But this would have been my second guess.]
SARAH: Oh, God. Listen. Pay attention. My father's name is Abe. He owns a chain of dry cleaning stores. My mother's name is Miriam. But I think you should call them Mr. and Mrs. Goldman. They live in Skokie on Kildare just off of Dempster. And my brother'll be here, too. His name is Joel. He's a psychologist. He's divorced. He has two children. You and I have been dating since January. We met at the wedding of my best friend, Marilyn Dintenfass. You think you can remember that?
[Bob: Well, no, I guess I can handle it. Uh.. See, all I heard was "You're going out with a Miss Sarah Goldman. You're going to dinner. Wear a suit."]
SARAH: I'm sorry. I know this is crazy. It was all in kind of a rush. What do they say? "Desperation is the mother of invention?"


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