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Prisoner of 2nd Avenue Monologue

Prisoner of 2nd Avenue by Neil Simon
Character: Mel
Gender: Male
Age (range): 40-50
Style: Comedy
Length: 5 minutes

 


Background Info: Mel is a middle-aged man in the high finance world of advertising. He has lost his job and is having a breakdown. His identity was his work. Edna is his fretful wife, watching the breakdown of Mel.

You don't know the first thing I'm talking about... You don't know what it is to be in my place... You've never stood in line for two hours waiting for an unemployment check with a shirt and tie, trying to look like you don't need the money. And some fat old dame behind the counter screaming out so everyone can hear, "Did you look for a job this week?" "Yes I looked for a job." "Did you turn down any work this week?" "What the hell am I doing here if I turned down work this week? ...You never walked into your own building and had a ninety-one-year-old doorman with no teeth, asthma, and beer on his breath giggle at you because he's working. You've never been on your own terrace and gotten hit with a bucket of ice-cold ice water. I haven't forgotten that son-of a-bitch! (he goes to the terrace door and looks up) I haven't forgotten you, you son-of-a bitch!!!!!

I'm waiting for him. I'm just waiting for him. He's up there now, but one day he's gonna be down there, and I'm gonna be up here, and then we'll see. One cold, snowy day some Son-Of-A-Bitch in this building is gonna be buried under three feet of snow. They won't find him until the Spring. (yells up again) They won't find you until the spring, you son-of-a-bitch!

He thinks I don't know what he looks like... I know what he looks like alright. I know what they all look like. I've got their faces engraved in my brain.

They can get your clothe, Edna. They can get your clothes, your Valium, your television, your Red Label Whisky, your job, they can get everything. But they can't get your brains.That's my secret weapon. That and the snow.I pray to God it snows tomorrow, I'll wait for him. I bought a shovel today, oh yeah.

Not a little shovel, big one. The kind they use in airports.I'll go without shoes this winter, but I won't my shovel. I'll bury him so deep, they'll have to salt out.

I live for it. I live for the first snow of the winter... He gets home at five-fifteen, I checked with the doorman...I gave him a five dollar tip, it was worth it. (yells up) I know what time you get home, you bastard! Try using the service entrance, I got that blocked off too!

(to Edna, oblivious of her on the phone) Do you have any idea, any conception of the impact of two pounds of snow falling from a height of fourteen floors...They'll find him in the garage. (yells up) They'll find you in the garage, you bastard!....I know what you look like.

(he goes out onto the terrace) And if it doesn't snow this winter, I'll wait till next winter. I'm in no hurry, smart ass. (yelling up) I've got nothing but time...Nothing but time, baby...(he laughs as the curtain falls)