THE CHAIR
A dramatic monologue from Maybe This Time
By Warren H. Gore
CLAY
A young man who hides vulnerability beneath rough language and an easygoing manner. Though he sees himself as damaged, memories of his grandfather restoring discarded furniture awaken a fragile hope that perhaps he, too, can be repaired.
Well, I was just lookin’ outside, ya know? And I seen this old guy, Zack, cuttin’ the grass. And, I don’t know. I guess he kinda reminded me of my grandfather.
He used to have this business, and I helped him sometimes. He’d take old furniture - stuff nobody wanted anymore - and he’d strip the paint off and shit. Then he’d put new cloth on it and refinish it. He’d fix it up real nice.
When he was through, there’d be this amazing new chair or sofa or whatever. You know, it’d be some fucked-up piece of junk when he started, and everybody’s first reaction was to laugh at him and say he was wasting his time with it.
But he’d just smile at them. He wouldn’t say nothin’.
Then, after a lot of hard work, that piece of junk would be real nice. I mean, rich people would be proud to have it.
Anyway, sometimes I’d help him.
And when I seen Zack today, it reminded me of Granddaddy. And I got to thinking.
If he could fix fucked-up chairs and make people think they weren’t so messed up after all, then maybe I -
Well -
Maybe I could be like one of those chairs, you know?
From the full-length play MAYBE THIS TIME by Warren H. Gore. Available for auditions and classroom use. For the complete play, please contact the playwright.