Scene One- Bed Monologue
A young man, Hero, is struggling to drag himself out of bed. On the chair next to his bed lies a suit with a shirt and tie neatly placed on top. Hero stares at this thoughtfully.
I can’t let that dream be a bad omen. I bet lots of people have dreams like that before a big interview. Yeah it makes perfect sense, the teeth falling out part is common enough, it means you’re worried about how your appearance or something… I wonder what wetting yourself in the Job Centre means… I wonder what wetting the bed means… Oh well, four hours sleep is fine. I bet loads of people survive on four hours of sleep a night. Like soldiers and people who live next to students.
Hero puts on the clothes slowly and awkwardly.
This shirt is huge but it looks alright with the jacket. Ok, that’s that. Suited and booted. Ok. Looks, ten out of ten as long as I keep the jacket on. Comfort… three at best. Fuck it, that’s fine. That’s what working life is all about, suffering in silence, braving the misery of day to day life… How do people wear this every day? Oh god. It’s like a needy little silk python wrapped around my neck. Maybe I will do a Masters after all. I wonder if this is the only reason people do Masters? Just to be a student for one more year. This is all getting too much. I haven’t even had an interview yet and my job is eating away at me! I’m definitely going to have a panic attack in the interview. I can see it now. Collapsing onto the floor… I’ll probably wet myself again. Oh god. Relax. Ten out of ten for looks. Oh, maybe nine. Need a shave.
Scene 2- Bathroom Monologue
Hero stares at himself in the mirror. His face is covered with shaving foam and he stands with the razor poised as though he is not unsure where to begin.
Maybe I should grow a moustache so they will take me more seriously. People with moustaches always get taken seriously... Apart from Gary Neville. And to be fair, that is the kind of wispy nose tickler that I would be looking at. No I’ll go for fresh-faced, young, eager and ready to learn. I hope they don’t ask me anything too difficult. I feel so sick I think I will probably vomit on myself. I wonder if they will still give me a job if I vomit on myself. Probably not. I’ll have to swallow it or catch it. Maybe I’ll take a little bag or a cup or something... SHIT! I’ve cut my lip! Who cuts their LIP shaving?! My lip! This is a nightmare, ok just carry on and finish shaving. Make sure there’s no more cuts. Shit, I’m bleeding into my mouth! They’re going to think I’m some sort of horrific vampire man. Vampires don’t count under equal opportunities I suppose. They will be worried about all the documents being covered in blood…
Hero sits eating his Weetabix which he eats with difficulty, trying to negotiate with the plaster that hangs bloody from his top lip.
Why is everyone texting me good luck? How do they even know I have an interview? Now there’s more pressure! God. I have put way too much deodorant on. It feels like I’ve got some sort of powdery white jam under my armpits. Fuck. What am I going to do!? I have to leave in 2 minutes and my lip is still bleeding everywhere! Tissue… It’s not stopping… Ok, I’ll wear a plaster just until I get there. Surely it will have stopped by then. Now, how do you put a plaster on your lip when it’s lip is pissing blood. I suppose stick one end to the top… and tuck the other one… into your mouth… under… your lip…. Well that feels strange but at least it will stop people from seeing the blood. Fuck, no time. Ok, quick bit of toast. This is horrible. I’m sweating already and I haven’t even left the house yet. God. Its like wallpaper paste under my arms. I hope they don’t stuck down... maybe I'll scrape them before I go...