I recently performed in a one-night only production of Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues. The play was first done Off Broadway in 1996 and aired on HBO in 1998. This collection of monologues explores the various aspects of the female experience including “sex, love, rape, menstruation, female genital mutilation, masturbation, birth, and orgasm” not necessarily in that order. This play has been performed worldwide as part of V-Day events that have helped raise over $75 million dollars for women’s anti-violence groups. It was an honor to be invited to join such a prestigious sisterhood. Quite frankly, they had me at Vagina.
If you’re familiar with the play my monologue was the controversial “The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could.” Now I know what coochie is, but coochie snorcher is a new one on me. The spell check on my computer seems baffled as well. I’m guessing it’s a Southern expression, but it makes my vagina sound like a wayward Muppet. In this monologue my character shares several traumatic and transformative memories from ages five to 16. One of my favorites:
Memory: seven years old: Edgar Montane, who is ten, gets angry at me and punches me with all his might between my legs. It feels like he breaks my entire self. I limp home. I can’t pee. My mama asks me what’s wrong with my Coochi Snorcher, and when I tell her what Edgar did to me she yells at me and says never to let anyone touch me down there again. I try to explain that he didn’t touch it, Mama, he punched it.
In varying degrees, the monologues are meant to engage, enrage, and entertain but it was by no means a ladies-only event. Nonetheless I did have a gentleman ask if it was okay for men to come see a show called, The Vagina Monologues. And I said, “Of course it is. Don’t be a pussy.”
There were fun moments in the production as well, and I’m not just talking about the chocolate vagina lollipops that were on sale during intermission. Yes, I said chocolate vagina lollipops. They were delicious. Cameo was correct. “Tastes like candy.” Don’t judge me. Sometimes a lollipop is just a lollipop.
The playbill for the evening thanked the show’s sponsors, introduced the cast and crew, and gave our Vaginas equal billing as well. This was a career first for me but it was fun. We were each asked and answered:
What’s your Vagina’s (nick) name?
Her Ladyship.
If your Vagina could get dressed, what would it wear?
An invisibility cloak.
If your Vagina was a piece of furniture or home decor, what would it be?
I don’t know. I’m still looking around for the perfect piece.
What’s your Vagina’s current mood?
Persnickety.
What’s your Vagina’s motto or slogan?
Remember where you are.
This is ThunderDome.
Death is listening.
And will take the first man who screams.
As you can see, my Vagina is a film buff with a sense of humor.
We toyed briefly with the idea of including photos in the program as well. But alas, Her Ladyship is camera shy. Besides, I’m pretty sure that would’ve made it a very different show and cut into candy sales. Because a chocolate vagina lollipop can’t hold a candle to a real one, or so I’ve been told.
