Two characters in search of a writer
A man and a woman sat across from each other at a corner table in a small neighborhood restaurant. Each one held a script and studied it, not speaking or looking up until they were done.
INT. SMALL ITALIAN RESTAURANT - EVENING
Rick and Debbie seated in a corner booth. It’s late and the restaurant is almost deserted.
DEBBIE
Shut up!
RICK
I didn’t say anything.
DEBBIE
You were about to. It’s my hair, isn’t it? You keep staring at it.
RICK
No. I mean … well … yes, but …
DEBBIE
I thought you liked blondes. You’re always looking at them. And Reese Witherspoon is your favorite movie star, and—
RICK
No, you look okay. Just … different. I’ve never seen you with blonde hair before.
DEBBIE
I look okay? Just okay?! Not as good as Reese?
RICK
No, you look great. It’s just that Reese isn’t Japanese.
DEBBIE
I thought you liked Japanese girls.
RICK
I do. It’s just that Reese was born blonde. She’s meant to be blonde. She looks hot as a blonde.
DEBBIE
Oh, just shut up about Reese.
RICK
You mentioned her first.
DEBBIE
And you started drooling. Just shut up.
RICK
No, you shut up. Besides, you can take the blonde wig off if you want. I like you better without it.
DEBBIE
Wig? Wig?! You think this is a WIG? I went to a lot of trouble to dye my hair blonde to surprise you.
RICK
Not a wig? So … so you’re going to be like this for … forever?
DEBBIE
Maybe. I haven’t decided. I bet if I were the waitress you’d be more excited.
RICK
A blonde Japanese waitress?
DEBBIE
Oh, just shut up. Let’s get the check and get out of here.
RICK
Don’t be upset.
DEBBIE
Well, I am upset.
RICK
(takes Debbie’s hand in his)
I still love you. Nothing could change that.
DEBBIE
I just wanted to surprise you.
RICK
Let me take you home. We can get into bed, light the candles, and …
DEBBIE
I guess. I like the candles.
RICK
Oh yes, just the two of us. I can’t wait.
DEBBIE
Hey, why are your eyes closed? You’re thinking of Reese again, aren’t you? Admit it! I refuse to share our bed with her. I want to be the only blonde.
RICK
Reese who? I wasn’t thinking of Reese. I promise. You’re the only blonde I want. Even if it is kind of weird, being Japanese and all. But you do look great. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll just be seeing you, babe. Just you. Not that other one. The one who’s not Japanese. The one who—
DEBBIE
Rick.
RICK
Yes, Debbie?
DEBBIE
Just shut up.
“So what do you think?” the woman said.
“Weird. It sounds like us.”
“It’s my hair, isn’t it? You keep staring at it.”
The man looked down at the script, then at the woman. “Are you doing the scene?”
“I thought you liked blondes. You’re always looking at them. And Reese Witherspoon is your favorite movie star, and—”
“No, you look okay. Just … different. I’ve never seen you with blonde hair before.” He looked up from the script and smiled.
“What’s with the smile? I don’t think he would smile.”
“No, I was just smiling because we were doing the scene. You know.”
“Stay in character.”
The man reached over and pointed to her copy of the script. “Your line,” he said.
“Tell me I look great.” The woman fingered her dark hair and waited.
“Uh … you look great. It’s just that Reese was born blonde.”
“You skipped a line. Reese isn’t Japanese.”
The man studied the script. “She looks hot as a blonde.”
“I don’t like the way you say hot.”
“Wait a minute, what’s my motivation?”
“I’ll give you a motivation.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Let’s skip to the wig part,” the woman said. “Just shut up.” At this he Japanese waitress, who had just approached the table, did a quick U-turn.
“No, you shut up. Besides, you can take the blonde wig off if you want. I like you better without it.”
“I’m not dying my hair for this role.” The woman drummed her fingers on the table.
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’m not dying my hair blonde for this role. I’ll just wear a wig.”
“But she says she’s not wearing a wig. That’s the big point in the scene.”
“Oh, you think so?” The woman picked up her knife and studied its edge.
“So … so you’re going to be like this for ... forever?” The woman didn’t answer; she was holding the knife up to the light.
The man swallowed. “So … so you’re going to be like this for ... forever?”
“I think she would play with the knife, don’t you?”
The man reached over to lower the knife, but the woman pulled back. She held the knife in front of her shoulder, pointed at him.
“I think it’s supposed to be comedy,” the man said. He managed a smile.
“That’s your opinion.” She squeezed the handle of the knife.
“Well, I’m not the writer, but—”
“Oh, just shut up. Let’s get the check and get out of here.”
“Okay, but put the knife down.”
“That’s not your line,” the woman said. She pointed to the script.
“Oh, sorry. Don’t be upset.”
“Well, I am upset.”
The man tried to take her hand in his, without getting cut, but quickly pulled his hand back. “I still love you. Nothing could change that.”
“I just wanted to surprise you.”
“Let me take you home. We can get into bed, light the candles, and …” The waitress approached with the bill, overheard the man’s words, and quickly found someplace else to be.
“I guess,” the woman said. “I like the candles.”
“Oh yes, just the two of us. I can’t wait.”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close … your … eyes! So I can say my next line.”
“Oh.” He closed his eyes.
“Hey, why are your eyes closed? You’re thinking of Reese again, aren’t you? Admit it! I refuse to share our bed with her. I want to be the only blonde.”
“Blonde wig.”
“Just read.”
“Reese who? I wasn’t thinking of Reese. I promise. You’re the only blonde I want. Even if it is kind of weird, being Japanese and all. But you do look great. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll just be seeing you, babe. Just you. Not that other one. The one who’s not Japanese. The one who—”
“Rick.”
“Yes, Debbie?”
“Just shut up.” The woman rolled up her script and stuffed it in her handbag. She put the knife back on the table, finally. “This needs work.”
“Tell the writer.”
“No, let’s not tell the writer. Let’s just improvise. And we have to find a way to add more conflict. That’s what it needs. More heat.”
“The knife is good,” the man said. “There was heat there.”
The woman picked up the knife again. She pointed it at the man and moved it slowly toward him. The man leaned back.
“You were acting, weren’t you?” he said with a weak smile.
Her eyes flashed. “Always, babe.”
“Thought so,” he lied.
