Needing a little monologue inspiration for your hump day? Check out this gem dealing with power and masculinity by LPT’s Community Director, Tony Moschetti:
There are few things in life quite so satisfying to a
young boy as beating his older brother at something. I don’t
know why. Maybe it’s a primal survival instinct to try to
establish your dominance over a threat. Maybe it’s a
Freudian response to try to prove yourself as an heir to the
family, and not be the Remus to his Romulus. Maybe its
just because that bastard always made you play Mortal
Kombat with him but never let you learn the moves first
and he would always just push you to the side of the screen
even though you called Corners on him and just freeze you
with Sub Zero over and over like the little bitch he was and
now it was time that he got his!
Whatever it was, it has always been important to show
off to your brother; to prove that you’re a MAN. And
nothing says you’re a man like Sex and Violence.
Of course, violence was a staple between us growing
up, and, my brother being five years older, I must admit he
had me beat. But sex. That was uncharted territory. As we
got older, we discovered that neither of us was very good
with girls. But I had the advantage that by the time I
reached high school, sex was becoming popular. It was
rumored that at one point our town’s school had one of the
highest rates of teen pregnancy in the country. Although my
brother had already experienced girls by the time I started,
in relation I was on a role. I had my first girlfriend younger,
my first kiss younger, and my first argument with my
parents over whether or not I was really, truly, deeply in
love because its totally not just a crush and you just don’t
understand when I was younger. But there was still the
Holy Grail. Real-live physical sex with a girl. All my
previous victories meant nothing if I could not accomplish
this earlier than he had.
My brother lost his virginity 2 weeks before his 18th
birthday. By the time I was 17 this was appalling to my
peers. But I had a deadline to beat, and it was looking grim.
I was a scrawny, pale, hairy, awkward, geeky redhead.
Needless to say, my resources were a little scarce, and they
were quickly exhausted. It takes a special kind of girl to
find the ginger offspring of a skeleton and the Geico
Caveman sexy. It didn’t help that many of the less shallow
girls were still “saving themselves,” which we all blamed
on the fucking Disney Channel.
But then a ray of naked misguided sunshine showed
down unto me, exactly one week before my time was up.
My very first girlfriend, the one who I swore I would be
with the rest of my life but then tried actually to be with me
THE REST OF MY LIFE, came back into town. Our bad
terms had faded, and we had become long distance friends.
Better yet, her time away had made her gloriously immoral.
Long story short, she came to visit just in time to get
seduced onto the floor of my shower, wedged between a
linoleum wall and an optimistically flailing young boy.
That was one of the most disappointing days of my
life. This big event, this achievement I had worked for so
long and so hard, was not all that exciting. I kept waiting to
feel different, but after about 10 minutes of absentminded
pumping, both of us left unsatisfied. How was this
supposed to make me a man? How was flopping into the
arms of someone I wasn’t especially close to supposed to
be a turning point in my life? How could it all be such
bullshit? Even at my age now, there is still so much hype
put into “getting laid” and “becoming a man,” but I don’t
compete anymore. I don’t know what I expected to win.
I’ve had sex since then, maybe more than my brother,
maybe not. I don’t care anymore. All I know is we’re closer
than ever now. I look at high schoolers since I’ve left, and
its all just gotten worse, all the little boys looking to be the
Big Player, and all the little girls so eager to help. And I
don’t have the heart to tell them it goes nowhere. I don’t
have anything to prove. And I think that’s why I’m a man.