Bathroom Monologue: Monologue for Bill Cosby as a Marginally More Lucid Father Than Usual

“I’m not ignoring her, dad,” said Theo, gesturing to the living room door. “I was just paying attention to the game.”

Bill patted his son on the shoulder.

“That’s your problem, son. You think sanely. But to a woman, there is no such thing as her man paying attention to something else. There is only the absence of attention being paid to her. When you go to the game, put your arm around her and make sure to look at her every five plays. Eye contact, boy, it will save your life. If you want to leave for drinks, start by saying, ‘Sweetness, would you like something?’ Always make it seem like your intentions flow back to her or she’ll go berserk. Now, a woman goes berserk saying things like ‘Fine’ or ‘Nothing’ or ‘You have fun.’ Those words are the steam escaping pipes that are about to blow. And when they blow, you won’t even hear it. You’ll just get burned. She finds a way for you to have forgotten the beef of taco night, and three hours of screaming later you’re sleeping on the couch with the game on mute, because good-Moses you don’t want her hearing none of that baseball. There is no sealing off those pipes. You’ll wrap them in chocolate and duct tape, and the second you turn your back and friend some girl on Facebook, they’ll burn the back of your neck again. Every lucid argument you make will only service the deep madness that is believing all your time ought to be hers.”