TOY
Sometimes I wish the aliens would take over my brain and change me into someone else.
(Beat.)
Do you know how hard it is sometimes? Like my locker—I have a special locker next to my regular locker just for my ball, and twice daily hand and arm massages—you know how much pressure that puts on a guy?
(Beat.)
I love bowling. But couldn’t I be Toy the bowler-singer-actor-secret agent-Presidential candidate-race car driver-Iron chef-astronaut-engineer-lawyer-doctor-poet-fireman? Would that be so bad?
(Beat.)
I know it’s selfish, but sometimes I just wish I had something easier, you know, like I was homeless and didn’t know where I was gonna sleep tonight, or where my next meal was coming from. Or my Dad got drunk and hit me or I had no money to pay for college or I was a refugee in Darfur.
Or like feeling totally alone cause my best friend killed himself or I was gay and thought my parents would suddenly reject me as their kid or maybe have an eating disorder or an addiction, you know? ‘Cause those would be so much easier than this bowling thing.