Monologue: My WORK Number

Scene opens. Tired supermom writing a check at the grocery store. Hand it to the innocent teenaged checker and smile.

“Yes, I found everything needed,” I said. “My work number? OK. 755-5968. Extension? Extension? Yes, there are several extensions. Let me give them all to you.

“Push 1, and you’ll find me in the master bath. I’ll either be anesthetized by Lysol, this Lime Away (she reaches into the sack) or Windex. Let it ring twice because my head may be stuck in the toilet.

“Push 2 (she holds up 2 fingers), and you’ll find me in my teenager’s room. I’ll be picking up sweat socks with tongs, shuffling CD’s, or wiping peanut butter off the remote control. If I’ve fainted from reading the lyrics to one of his poems, push 3.

"3 is the kitchen. I could be down on all 4 waxing or coaxing the incontinent cat out from under the table. I might be sneezing at the dust mop or riding high on my electric broom. Or maybe praising the sheltie for licking up all the cake crumbs.

“Now my assistants--the self-cleaning oven, the dishwasher, the microwave—will be there, but they don’t take messages. Call back.

“Or better yet, try extension 4. I might be in my home office balancing the books for my husband’s business. You see, if I stay in the background and make up flow charts and write checks, he can bask in a glamour position all day at his office and receive credit, or better yet cash, for a job well done.

“Stay right there, young man. If you push 5, you’ll get the backyard. Call anytime day or night because I won’t be resting by the pool. No, I’ll be cleaning the barbecue with a steel brush, putting out a pork rib fire, or explaining to my husband why I won’t stick my hand into the ice water and clean out the pool filter.

“Did you get my cell number, Sonny? 485-6958. Sometimes I run free and wild to the cleaners, the bank, the dentist. But, don’t worry, I’ve got an answering machine. If I’m pumping gas, leave a message. I’ll get right back to you. Or better yet I may just drive right on over the store and see you in person.

“No, I would not like to meet the store manager, but I’m sure he’s very nice. And so are you. See you tomorrow or maybe later today. And thanks again for asking for my work number. If you need me, you know where to find me.”



I thought of this scene because I encountered the same grocery store checker last month on jury duty. After 25 long years, he recognized me first.