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DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE:
Sei Shonagon in Silicon Valley
You won’t believe what I overheard at
The E&O from some old frump with one
Of those ghastly curly perms left over
From the eighties, and God only knows what
She was doing there anyway, in her
Polyester pants suit, orange of course.
Well, just as my chopsticks were poised for the
First bite of my portabella mushrooms,
Lightly dipped in ponzu sauce flavored with
The slightest hint of lemongrass, she says
In a loud voice from the next table, “I’d
Rather have mayonnaise on my salad,
And can’t you just bring it along with the
Salmon? I don’t like eating my food in
Separate courses, and make sure the fish
Is cooked all the way through. And could I have
A glass of milk?” Where would you even start
With a person like that? Well, first of all,
No civilized being would actually
Drink milk. It’s disgusting! At the very
Least she should have ordered some ginger ale.
They make their own at the E&O, you know.
None of that tacky stuff in the cans, and
Who ever heard of overcooking fish?
Hasn’t she ever tasted sashimi?
And mayonnaise? Oh, please! I can just see
Her with the jar right on her formica
Table when she’s at home, slopping that stuff
On the iceberg lettuce on the same plate
With her tuna and noodle casserole,
Mixed up with cream of mushroom soup, of course.
Why does a person like that even bother
To eat at a place like the E&O?
But she was not the only annoyance there.
Don’t people have any sense when it comes
To cell phones? Did I really want to listen
To some yuppie calling his stockbroker?
In Kyoto, people have the courtesy
To turn their cell phones off when they’re dining.
Some people know how to conduct themselves.
Like Lady Akiko, you wouldn’t see
Her at a funeral wearing a two-
Carat tennis bracelet. She would just know--
For funerals, you wear your pearls. She did,
However, send me an e-mail
Instead of a hand-written note when my
Precious kitty, Princess Snowflake, had her
Cataract surgery last November.
Courtesy is fading, even back home.
But I mustn’t be looking backward. I’m
A Californian now, though I cannot
Begin to count the shocks I suffer every day
Even in my gated community
With twenty-four-hour security.
Why, just last night, as I was enjoying
The twilight, noticing how the sky was
Just turning the same pearly shade of gray
As the raku teacup in my own hand,
My neighbor came over, uninvited,
Tromping on the moss under my mugo
Pine, scattering all the pebbles in my
Meditation garden, and shouted in
The most presumptuous voice, “Hey Shoney, I
Snagged some Sharks tickets for tonight. My Jeep’s
Runnin’. Jump into your jeans!” I only
Accepted his invitation to be
Polite. But since I never plan to own
A pair of jeans, I wore my Armani
Outfit, with a silk iris patterned scarf
I got at Mitsukoshi on my
Trip back to Kyoto last spring. I chose
The iris motif to harmonize with
The season. But hockey is so out of
Tune with the cycles of nature. Can you
Believe they skate around on artificial ice?
And the rest of it—those hideous teal
And black costumes, and all the noise and the
Screaming and those horrible sticks they keep
Using to attack each other, without
Even bowing first. Believe me, last night
At the Arena will haunt all my dreams
Until I die and am reborn—next time,
I hope, in France, even if they do eat
That hateful cheese.
The E&O from some old frump with one
Of those ghastly curly perms left over
From the eighties, and God only knows what
She was doing there anyway, in her
Polyester pants suit, orange of course.
Well, just as my chopsticks were poised for the
First bite of my portabella mushrooms,
Lightly dipped in ponzu sauce flavored with
The slightest hint of lemongrass, she says
In a loud voice from the next table, “I’d
Rather have mayonnaise on my salad,
And can’t you just bring it along with the
Salmon? I don’t like eating my food in
Separate courses, and make sure the fish
Is cooked all the way through. And could I have
A glass of milk?” Where would you even start
With a person like that? Well, first of all,
No civilized being would actually
Drink milk. It’s disgusting! At the very
Least she should have ordered some ginger ale.
They make their own at the E&O, you know.
None of that tacky stuff in the cans, and
Who ever heard of overcooking fish?
Hasn’t she ever tasted sashimi?
And mayonnaise? Oh, please! I can just see
Her with the jar right on her formica
Table when she’s at home, slopping that stuff
On the iceberg lettuce on the same plate
With her tuna and noodle casserole,
Mixed up with cream of mushroom soup, of course.
Why does a person like that even bother
To eat at a place like the E&O?
But she was not the only annoyance there.
Don’t people have any sense when it comes
To cell phones? Did I really want to listen
To some yuppie calling his stockbroker?
In Kyoto, people have the courtesy
To turn their cell phones off when they’re dining.
Some people know how to conduct themselves.
Like Lady Akiko, you wouldn’t see
Her at a funeral wearing a two-
Carat tennis bracelet. She would just know--
For funerals, you wear your pearls. She did,
However, send me an e-mail
Instead of a hand-written note when my
Precious kitty, Princess Snowflake, had her
Cataract surgery last November.
Courtesy is fading, even back home.
But I mustn’t be looking backward. I’m
A Californian now, though I cannot
Begin to count the shocks I suffer every day
Even in my gated community
With twenty-four-hour security.
Why, just last night, as I was enjoying
The twilight, noticing how the sky was
Just turning the same pearly shade of gray
As the raku teacup in my own hand,
My neighbor came over, uninvited,
Tromping on the moss under my mugo
Pine, scattering all the pebbles in my
Meditation garden, and shouted in
The most presumptuous voice, “Hey Shoney, I
Snagged some Sharks tickets for tonight. My Jeep’s
Runnin’. Jump into your jeans!” I only
Accepted his invitation to be
Polite. But since I never plan to own
A pair of jeans, I wore my Armani
Outfit, with a silk iris patterned scarf
I got at Mitsukoshi on my
Trip back to Kyoto last spring. I chose
The iris motif to harmonize with
The season. But hockey is so out of
Tune with the cycles of nature. Can you
Believe they skate around on artificial ice?
And the rest of it—those hideous teal
And black costumes, and all the noise and the
Screaming and those horrible sticks they keep
Using to attack each other, without
Even bowing first. Believe me, last night
At the Arena will haunt all my dreams
Until I die and am reborn—next time,
I hope, in France, even if they do eat
That hateful cheese.
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