Copyright: Bruce Kane Productions 2006
All Rights Reserved
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"Monster Dating" is protected by copyright law and may not be performed without written permission from Bruce Kane Productions.

To obtain permission go to www.kaneprod.com/ contact.htm and complete the Contact Us Form.

IMPORTANT BILLING AND CREDIT REQUIREMENTS All producers of "Monster Dating" must give credit to Bruce Kane as sole Author of the Play in all programs distributed in connection with performance of the Play and in all instances in which the title of the Play appears for any purposes of advertising, publicizing or otherwise exploiting the Play and/or production thereof, including posters, souvenir books, flyers, books and playbills.
Bruce Kane must also appear immediately following the title of the Play and must appear in size of type not less then fifty percent of the size of type used for the title. The Author’s name must be equal to or larger than the Director's, but never smaller than that of the Director.
The above billing must appear as follows: "Monster Dating" by Bruce Kane.
WARNING No one shall make any changes to this play for the purpose of production. Publication of these plays does not imply its availability for production.

WRITER'S NOTE: Almost 85% of the dialogue in this play belongs to the character of Marjorie.

TIME: Now
SETTING: A computer table and swivel chair. A restaurant table for two. A bed.
CHARACTERS:
Marjorie – Thirtiesh going on fortiesh, claiming to be twentiesh. Talkative, vain, self-involved.
Frank – The Frankenstein Monster complete with high forehead and bolts in his neck. Talks in grunts.
Jack – A true gentleman
The Wolfman – What Jack turns into.
Count – Dresses, looks and speaks just like Bela Lugosi in “Dracula”.
Waiter
Man’s Voice #1
Man’s Voice #2

CURTAIN: Marjorie sits at her computer filling out a form. She speaks as she types.

MARJORIE: Name… Marjorie Ledbetter… Born… Portland, Oregon. Education… High School… Yes… College… Yes… Degrees… B.A. … Major… Pyschology. Age… (ponders for a good long while then types) Thirty nine… (backspaces then types) Thirty seven… (stops, ponder, backspaces and types) Thirty six… (stops, ponders, backspaces and types) Thirty five. Height… Five feet six… Weight… (ponders then types) On hundred twenty… (stops, backspaces, types) One hundred fourteen pounds. Color eyes… Brown… Color hair. Blonde? (types) Occasionally (reads) Brunette? (types) From time to time. (reads) Redhead? (types) Only when bored. (speaks to audience) This is so humiliating. Here I am, an attractive thirty two year old woman… filling out a form for an on-line dating service. Well, it can’t be any worse than the Russian Roulette of phone ups, hook-ups, fix-ups and pick ups I’ve been playing lately. I really don’t know much about this computer dating stuff. But, people say it works. I figure, what have I got to lose? In the Olympics of love, the men I’ve been going out with lately aren’t exactly gold medal winners. There was Ed. Just sat there. Watched TV. Emptied my fridge. I called him The Blob. Then there was Mickey. Even when he was there, he wasn’t there. You know the type… My girlfriends referred to him as The Invisible Man. Then there was Frank. The strong, silent type. Or that’s what the woman in the next office who fixed me up with him said. “You’ll like him… He’s a good listener.” (she swivels her chair to face a small restaurant table set for two. Her date enters and sits down. It’s Frankenstein. The monster with the high forehead and bolts in his neck. He grunts) That’s okay, I just got here myself. I ordered a bottle of Merlot, if that’s alright… (He nods and grunts. She pours him a glass) So… Dottie tells me you’re a gynecologist… (He grunts) At least that gives us one thing in common. (He grunts) My little joke. Sorry… More wine? (He grunts and shakes his head) You’re my first, you know that, don’t you? (He grunts quizzically) Date. My first date. (Confused he grunts again) Not in my life… Just since my divorce…(He grunts understandingly. From here on Marjorie basically talks non-stop to Frank’s rising dismay and annoyance)

(Play continues)

Well, the next guy I went out with, I met in the super market… between the Alka Seltzer and the aspirin. An omen if there ever was one. In the beginning he was the perfect gentleman… Sweet, kind and very attentive…. Opened every door for me. Held my chair… Chivalrous… That’s how I thought of him… as chivalrous. And maybe a little gay. I don’t know… Is it possible to be a “little gay?” We must have gone out six or seven times and he never once tried to kiss me or, at least, cop a feel. I was beginning to worry. (She swivels around to the restaurant table. Jack enters and sits down. He’s well dressed and polite to a fault)
MARJORIE: I’ve never been here before. The view is spectacular.
JACK: I thought you would like it.
MARJORIE: I do… I do.
JACK: You look particularly lovely tonight.
MARJORIE: Thank you… That’s very nice of you to say.
JACK: Do you know that your eyes have a certain sparkle in this light?
MARJORIE: It must be the full moon.
JACK: (panicking) The what?
MARJORIE: The full moon. It’s beautiful isn’t it? (Jack starts to twitch) And so romantic, don’t you think? (Jack twitches again) Can I ask you a question? (Jack continues to twitch) We’ve been out on six dates since we met. (Jack twitches and growls) You’re right… Seven dates, including tonight. And you’ve been a perfect gentleman.(His body start to contort) And don’t think I don’t appreciate it. (His body contorts even more) Do you want some water? (Jack growls and shakes his head) But there comes a time in every relationship when a woman wants something more than just dinner and conversation. (Jack bays at the moon) Not that the dinners and conversation haven’t been…
JACK: (growling) Would you excuse...? (tries to stand as his body contorts even more)
MARJORIE: Are you alright? I hope it wasn’t something I said. (Jack collapses behind the table, disappearing from sight)
MARJORIE: (concerned) Jack… Jack….
(Jack reappears from behind the table. He is wearing the same suit except he has now turned into a very hairy Wolfman and he is all over Marjorie)

(The play continues)

MARJORIE: Sounds a lot like the last guy I dated. He claimed to be royalty… A Count, if you can believe it. I did, I’m embarrassed to say. (She crosses to a bed occupied by a man who looks and speaks just like Bela Lugosi She slides under the covers and snuggles up to him)
COUNT: Vell, my dear, vat do you say? Vas it good for you?
MARJORIE: Oh Count… You were incredible. I feel… completely drained.
COUNT: I’m often told zat.
MARJORIE: I’ve never known a man so passionate. You make love like your life depended on it.
COUNT: You know, of course, ze French phrase for orgasm iz “La petit mort.”
MARJORIE: La petit mort?
COUNT: Ze leetle death.
MARJORIE: Of course ze leetle death. But then the French have a phrase for everything.
COUNT: Tell me my dear.
MARJORIES (breathlessly) Yes, Vlad?
COUNT: Before vee we made love…
MARJORIE: Yes?
COUNT: Vere you a wirgin?
MARJORIE: A “wirgin?”
COUNT: Yes… A wirgin.
MARJORIE: Oh, you mean a virgin. (girlishly) Why? Did I seem “young and inexperienced?”

(The play continues)