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lirik lagu the final minutes – rachel brosnahan

lately, i’ve been doing a lot of things i’m not supposed to
like becoming a comic. that was a surprise
to everyone. me, especially
i was just a wife and a mother and then one day, my husband left me. on yom kippur. the holy day when jews fast to atone for their sins? that’s the day he chose to leave me. for his secretary
i can’t really blame him, though. she has some mints in her purse
i’ll admit, it was really terrible for a while. but then thе sun set and i could eat again
suddenly, i was singlе. i wasn’t raised to be single
i didn’t know what to do, so i drank my weight in manischewitz, stumbled onto a stage, grabbed a microphone, and in that moment everything changed
i discovered what it felt like to have people listen to me
well, not men, but other people
well, not my mother, but everybody else
okay, not my children, my dates, employers, coworkers, the new butcher, but strangers. strangers love me. yeah
actually, i should be grateful that my husband cheated with the person that he did
because she was, as they say in the american journal of medicine, an idiot
and i’m not just saying that because she slept with my husband. i’m saying that because i saw her ask a plastic plant in the office if it wanted some water
and then waited for an answer. for ten full minutes
and then went to the coffeepot and asked why the plant was mad at her
so when your husband leaves you for that, it softens the blow
it feels good that after their first c*cktail party appearance, people call you saying, “what was he thinking? she apologized to the ashtray every time she put out a cigarette.”
i’ve been single for a while now. quite a while
[chuckles] if i ever do remarry, my mother’s going to have to give me “the talk” again to refresh my memory
i’m actually not sure if a permanent relationship is even in the cards for me anymore. i mean, i work at night
i come home reeking of cigarettes and booze with lipstick on my collar… mine
and the men in my life are no longer boyfriends or lovers
they’re bits. fodder for my act
if they kiss loud or have nicknames for their body parts… like their feet
come on, we sell soap here
if we have an argument on a friday, sat*rday night i’m recreating it for the shriners, who are always on my side and think i can do better
plus i come with kids. two. a boy and a girl
their names are on the tip of my tongue
we’re a jewish household, so my son was circumcised a week after he was born
my daughter’s trauma will have to wait until she’s old enough to go clothes shopping with my mother
i do know that because of my situation, my daughter is going to grow up different than i did. she’s gonna be tougher
more independent. that’s a terrifying word. independent. especially for women
it was not a word we were supposed to be familiar with
i wasn’t. my mother wasn’t. but i’m on my own now
so if i want that flat tire changed… well, clearly someone else is gonna do it
i’m independent, not an idiot
i haven’t talked to a plastic plant in months
[laughs] my kids, god, i promise their names will come to me
i think it’s inevitable that they will hate me when they grow up
like every other parent, i spend sleepless nights imagining what my kids are gonna say about me to their psychiatrists
right? you’ve done this
“she wasn’t home.”
“she missed my baseball game.”
“she made me listen to her tight ten for a week before she opened in toledo and then had us heckle her for three hours so she had some practiced comebacks. and our drinks were watered*down.”
that’s why i need to get really famous
if you’re really famous, everybody loves you. at least until the will is read
i heard a story about mary martin, broadway star
her driver got sick, so she had to take a cab to the theater she was performing at
she gets in, cabbie asks her where she’s going. she has no idea
no idea where the theater is or what it’s called
she is too famous to know
she is so famous that, eventually, someone will notice she’s missing and just come find her. all she has to do is stand still. that’s the kind of fame i want
where i never have to know who i am or where i’m going
where one day bob hope walks up to me at a restaurant and says, “hi, i’m bob hope. you probably don’t remember meeting me,” and i say, “of course i do. i’ll have the chicken.”
i want a big life. i want to experience everything
i want to break every single rule there is
they say ambition is an unattractive trait in a woman. maybe
but you know what’s really unattractive?
waiting around for something to happen
staring out a window, thinking the life you should be living is out there somewhere but not being willing to open the door and go get it. even if someone tells you you can’t
being a coward is only cute in the wizard of oz
ethan and esther. i knew it would come to me eventually. oh! huh
you have been an amazing audience!
i want to thank you, i want to thank gordon ford, and, most importantly, i want to thank bergdorf goodman from the bottom of my heart
thank you and good night!

- rachel brosnahan

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