Monologues of Inanimate Objects #3: Batter Up!

Uh… (clears throat)

Hello. Hi.

Name’s Monroe, please don’t laugh. Always hated that name, wish I could find the guy — or gal!, or gal, don’t yell at me about being sexist — the guy or gal who thought up Monroe but… what are you gonna do?

It’s nice out.

Been a long time since I been outside. If you wanna know the truth, a yard sale ain’t exactly my idea of outdoor fun, but a day in the sun is nice. And hey, who knows, maybe some youngster comes along, gives his Dad a look that says “Dad, I gotta have this” and 10 bucks later, I gotta new home and somebody’s puttin’ me to good use again.

He used to play baseball, the kid over there that’s runnin’ this whole show, puttin’ us pieces of junk out to pasture. He was pretty good too. Wasn’t gonna set the world on fire but he could play pretty good. Now look at him. Used to be in decent shape.

Guess he’s not a kid anymore is he? Hasn’t been for a long time.

Works in real estate now, or so I understand from Meredith. She was here yesterday but somebody noticed her pretty curves and bought her up real quick today. She was a beautiful vase. I guess she sat on the bedside table always holding a few flowers. The prettiest shade of purple you ever saw. Lavender, she was. She corrected me about that yesterday. Lavender. Even the name of the color is beautiful. Just like her. I’m not ashamed to admit that I flirted with her a bit yesterday. Nothing inappropriate mind you. I’m not completely without class. I asked her where she’d been all my life and she said “In the master bedroom.” Ha! In the master bedroom. That was a good answer. Good answer.

I hope the woman who bought her puts Lavender Meredith in the master bedroom, where she belongs, holding some lovely flowers.

As for me, eh, I don’t know. A few guys have picked me up, taken a couple a swings and then, pfft. Nothin’. Put me back on the table. They smile all sad like, you know. Maybe touch me again before walkin’ over to their wives to look at Vivian — the living room curtains — or Jimmy — the coffee maker. I’m surprised he’s still here actually. He looks good, that Jimmy. We ended up in the same box last night when the tables were packed up for the day. Talked about politics waaaay too long for my taste. Really worked up about things.

Oh, would you look at that. Over there at the far end of the driveway, kid about… eight or nine, I figure. Eyein’ me. Tuggin’ on his dad’s sleeve. Oh. It’s a… girl. Tuggin’ on her dad’s sleeve. Hey, that’s just fine with me, I’m not sexist! I just wanna feel the wind rush around me again, maybe make contact with a few balls. Boy or girl, it don’t make no difference to me. C’mon, c’mon… Yes! They’re walkin’ this way. Focus, Monroe. Focus.