Adventureland Monologues

In the summer of 1987, a college graduate takes a 'nowhere' job at his local amusement park, only to find it's the perfect course to get him prepared for the real world.

No! Okay, alright for example, junior year I was dating this girl Betsy Cooke. Betsy was kind of like, she was kind of a prude actually. Anyway one day I was reading Shakespeare and I realized I don't really love this person. You know? It was one of the sonnets, "being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours and times of your desires?" And I realized I don't want to tend to Betsy's hours or her times. Alright that doesn't matter. Anyway, I drove to Betsy's house and I was literally about to tell her and that's the night she said she wanted to have sex. Can you believe it? It was the same night.

Ladies and gentlemen, put down your mint juleps. Horses are all at the starting gate. Okay, and they're off! And Red bolts out of the gate, taking an early lead! But look out! Here comes Green, issuing a challenge from the outside lane. Green runs well on a muddy track, folks, so today's conditions might give him a slight edge. And Yellow is dead last! What a dissapointment after Yellow's strong showing at Saratoga last spring. Wait! Look out! Wait a second! Out of nowhere, Orange breaks ahead of the pack, and now, in the backstretch, Orange and Green. Orange and Green, and Orange takes it by a nose! Green places and Red shows. Please come to the window to collect your winnings!

Wait, Em! I think I maybe see you a little differently than you see yourself. Yes I see the person who fucked up, but I also see the person who saved me from being knifed over a giant-ass panda, who introduced me to psychotropic chocolate-chip cookies, who stood up for Joel, and who doesn't make apologies for herself. Look, my theory is you can't just avoid everybody you screw up with. And you should trust me, I'm a New Yorker.

No, that's a valid question. But actually journalism is kind of like this old boys' network still. You need the right connections. It's very Ivy League, very exclusive. Stupid. I think my mother would rather I intern as some Fortune 500 company or something like that.

I need to tell you something. Last week I went on a date with Lisa P. She asked me out. It was nothing. We kissed a little bit at the end of the date and I felt her breast a little bit, but nothing else.

No. No intercourse. Look, I'm sorry. It's just you and I never talked about being exclusive. I don't want to see her again, okay? You're the one I.

Look, we'll both be in New York soon and I want to hang out with you. I want to get to know you better if you want to get to know me better as well.

I know, but, I want to owe you things. I'm ready to owe you things, okay? Because I really, really care about you. Are you mad at me? Because I'm sorry.