Fiction, Monologues, Plays & More
A Monologue By Jeff Folschinsky
I blame everything on the song “Fever.” The one Peggy Lee sang back in the stone age. There was something about it that—oh, hell I don’t know. It just had some kind of effect on me. Maybe it was because my Mom always used to listen to it.
Okay, I can feel that look you’re giving me. I’m just talking about memories of a more pleasant time in my life, that’s all. Let’s not get all psychoanalytical here and try to make this into a gross Oedipus type thing. Why do people do that? It’s so infuriating. I mean I’m just trying to have a discussion here, and right out of the gate I feel like I’m being judged. I mean that’s totally screwed up, man.
I’m just—well—can you feel my point I’m trying make? Because if not, then—well, then I just don’t know. You know?
I’m sorry, that was probably uncalled for.
Yeah, anyway, the point I was trying to make though, was “Fever” had some kind of significance in my life.
What kind of significance? I don’t know. It’s just one of those questions you bring up in a story, that doesn’t really have any answer to it, but it still bares mentioning, that’s all. You know what I saying?
Anyway, I was sitting in the bar last week, and there was that jazz band playing. You know, the one with that singer with those big—yeah her. Oh my god, talk about a feat of defying gravity. You think she needs back support or something? Because I just don’t know how she gets around on a day-to-day basis.
Hey, I’m not trying to be a jerk, I’m just saying it’s impressive that’s all—especially after my experience.
What experience, you might be asking yourself. Don’t worry, I’m getting to that. Anyway, I was sitting at the bar, trying to drink away my woes. I had just broken up—or more specifically I was just broken with—or more specifically I was dumped… sorry, I didn’t want to candy coat things. I believe telling things how they really are.
Anyway the point being I was in a fragile state of mind. The band was playing, no big deal, I was too caught up in my own self-pity to really give a damn until they began playing the song—you guessed it “Fever.”
It really is a remarkably simple song. Just drums, bass, and the singer and of course a crap load of finger snapping. I think it was the finger snapping that broke me out of my funk. I don’t know when I started snapping along. I think it was the time I realized that I wasn’t in my body. Not an out-of-body experience mind you. Sorry I worded that wrong. I was in someone else’s body—the singer’s to be more specific. Yeah, the one with the big you-know-whats that I just described. Thus my comment about genuinely being impressed with her natural balance with those things because I actually fell forward a couple of steps, which is how I first realized I had taken a giant step into the Twilight Zone.
The frightening thing though, was that I was looking right at myself. Not looking in a mirror mind you, but looking from the stage across the audience, and seeing my body. My, or its, eyes were shut and snapping along like nothing was wrong.
Actually, I take that back, that wasn’t the most frightening thing. The most frightening thing, believe it or not, was realizing that the effing song was still going and everyone was looking at me wondering why I stopped singing.
Okay, I didn’t know what was worse. That I was in some chick’s body, or now I had to sing.
I think it was the singing. Not to put myself down but in school I was always offered the the seventh position of a sextet. I mean, singing was something that just did not come naturally to me.
I don’t know why I even tried but I had all those people just staring at me, so before I thought about it too hard, I just went for it.
And you know what? I was good. I mean really good.
I mean maybe it was because I was in that voluptuous body that was more trained for those types of things or maybe it was because I knew the song so well? I don’t know but I was killing it.
I just looked at my real self at the bar snapping away at the music and just stood there and did the same. Made like I was reprising the first verse again. You know, those type of pretentious things the singer always does, that the band hates, but goes along with anyway because they don’t want to seem like the don’t know what they’re doing. I just snapped along and the first verse just came out of me:
Never know how much I love you
Never know how much I care
When you put your arms around me
I get a fever that’s so hard to bear
You give me fever, when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever in the morning, fever all through the night
Sun lights up the day time
Moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name
And you know I’m gonna treat you right
You give me fever, when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever in the mornin’
A fever all through the night
I got through the song, and the place went crazy. Standing ovation, not one single person was sitting in their seat, including me. I know this because as soon as the song ended, I was back in my body applauding way.
Strange effing night right? I don’t know what to tell you. Whether the damn thing actually happened or it was all in my head I couldn’t tell you. I’m pretty sure it had something to do with that song though. It just had a way of reaching out and bitch slapping you with whatever ju-ju was floating around that night.
So here I am, back, waiting for the band to start playing. Oh, I’m not hoping to reprise my performance. I’m really hoping to get the singer’s number. I think I might actually have a shot with her. Since you know, I was her for the duration of an entire song. I think that gives me a certain kind of perspective, which helps me relate to her better than the rest of these bums hoping to score with her. Might be a terrible idea, but you never know, obviously stranger things have happened.
Jeff Folschinsky’s plays have been seen at various theaters across North America. He is also creator and staff writer for Perilous and The Trials and Tribulations of Vicky Vixen, a serial late night soap opera spoof at the Eclectic Company Theater in North Hollywood, California. Jeff’s plays The Unsinkable Bismarck, A Pill By Any Other Name Is The Wrong Dosage, Rendezvous and Revelations and Kisses From Abroad are published by One Act Play Depot. His full length play Turkey Day that had it’s world premiere at The Eclectic Company Theatre, is published by both Norman Maine Play Publishing and Big Dog Play Publishing. His play he co-wrote with Tyler Tanner The Singing Bone is published by JAC Publishing. Jeff has written and produced the popular podcasts Virgin Falls, Pasiones Obsesionantes, The B-Movie Bastards and Cult Movie Cuisine. Jeff has also written a movie with Tyler Tanner and Stephanie Wiand called Revenge of the Bimbot Zombie Killers which was directed by Joe Camareno and is due to be released later this year.