Thursday, March 26, 2015

March 26, 2015

March 26, 2015
A fortyish man works on his laptop. Short with thinning hair, he has lively blue eyes and a handsome face. A woman enters. Wearing a camel hair, double-breasted coat, her blunt cut blonde hair frames a weary, pretty face. 

Woman: Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here? *indicates seat next to him*
Man: No, go right ahead. *smiles* *sips coffee* *goes back to keystroking*
Woman: I hope I’m not bothering you. I’m the social type. I like to talk. 
Man: No, You’re not bothering me. I’m just trying to get some work done and— 
Woman: Then I am bothering you! I’m so sorry. 
Man: No, it’s fine. Really. 
Woman: It’s just that I have control over whether I talk to you or not. Sometimes in life you don’t have any control at all. 
Man: We may not be able to control it, but I like to think we can influence it. 
Woman: Not when you’ve been married for twenty-five years and your husband ups and dies. There’s nothing you can influence about that.
Man: No, I guess you can’t.
Woman: It’s why I like to be social and talk. People aren’t meant to be cooped up and alone so I get out and socialize, but you’re on that computer, aren’t you? I call it “a bible” because that’s what it is.
Man: *laughs* I am on it a lot.
Woman: You have to interact. It’s why I refuse to go on these computer dating sites. They’re so impersonal. I don’t like impersonal. When I meet someone, I want to look in their eyes.
Man: *becoming increasingly uncomfortable about direction of conversation* I don’t have to worry about that. I’m married. *points to wedding ring*
Woman: Oh, you’re married! How many kids?
Man: *holds up two fingers*
Woman: Two. Oh, my! In my first marriage, I never had any children. I was afraid of all the responsibilities. I just felt one day I’d snap and say, “Take them back!” to my husband.  
Man: I see.
Woman: How long have you been married?
Man: Fifteen years.
Woman: My first husband left me after ten years. Ten years … that’s how long you’ve been married, right? I forgot what you said. How many years did you say?
Man: Fifteen.
Woman: Fifteen. That’s right. My second marriage lasted twenty-five, but he died. It's what I meant. I have no control over that, and I certainly can't influence it. 
Man: No, not something like that. 
Woman: So what am I supposed to do? Sit at home and stare at the walls? It’s no good being alone. It’s why I socialize.
Man: Yes, you should.
Woman: I guess I'm just not lucky in this life. Well, thank you. I need to go home and I’ll leave you to your work.
Man: Goodbye.
Woman: Yes, goodbye.

Woman gets up and exits. A strong breeze ruffles her hair as she walks down the street—alone.   

Sunday, March 22, 2015

March 22, 2015

March 22, 2015

A man and woman enter. Twentyish, both are extremely good-looking with bodies that are fit and lean. I recognize the woman as a regular customer. A divorced mother of one little girl, her face is sculpted and refreshingly pretty, but the problem is that she apparently knows it. The handsome young man seems to be suffering from the same condition. They take a seat right next to me; I listen in. 

Man: So you were in Maine?
Woman: Yes, visiting my father. He has two places in Colorado. They’re investment properties, but you can ski, snowmobile and fish. I used to go fly fishing. I’d stand there with these bass or whatever they are swimming around my feet.
Man: You sure it was fly fishing? In fly fishing you have to cast. *he demonstrates perfect technique of casting out a line* 
Woman: Yeah, I did that. I went like *flicks wrist limply several times* *man gives skeptical look*
Man: Anyway, I've been looking around for things on sale. I’m in finance so numbers are everything. And I'm still sending out resumes listing the construction company where I work. What am I saying? It’s my construction company. Mine. *points to his chest*
Woman: *laughs* *slumps way down in seat* *takes out checkbook and starts writing a check*
Man: *blushes* When I went home, I looked around and found all this stuff my mom has laying around. I’m going to take some towels, comforter, blankets when I move out. 
Woman: No!
Man: No, what?
Woman: *puts feet up on man’s thighs showing ownership and waves check around* No, you are NOT going to take stuff from your mother's!  
Man: Why you talking like that and going all Beyonce on me?  
Woman: I’m just telling you you’re going to buy your own things. *stares at check* Does this make me a Sugar Momma?
Man: *man flushes even more deeply*  
Woman: *she hands him the check* *lifting her booted feet off him, she grabs the back of his neck and kisses him deeply* *man reciprocates, but not comfortably or willingly*  
Man: Thanks. *folds check and puts it in his pocket*
Woman: *takes paper out of purse* *spreads it out on man’s thigh* Sign this. I’m assuming you have a pen.
Man: Sure. *takes one out of his pocket*
Woman: It just says you owe me money and promise to pay it back. I learned how to do this during my separation. The guy I was seeing used to borrow money from me all the time.
Man: Really?
Woman: Yes. Ouch! My back hurts *she grabs lower lumbar and sits up straight*
Man: You know, you’re not in that great of a shape.
Woman: *continues rubbing back* I’m seeing an acupuncturist next week.
Man: Hope it helps. So I’ll see you Tuesday. We’ll go to Ikea.
Woman: Yup, Tuesday *she grabs him and kisses him again*

They both put on their coats, kissing passionately one more time outside window before parting and going their separate ways.

Monday, February 16, 2015

February 16, 2015

FEBRUARY 16, 2015

A man in an expensive shearling coat sits at table. An older man, he looks out window. His face brightens when he sees an attractive, fortyish woman approach. She enters coffee shop, taking off hood and sunglasses and sits down at his table.

Man: Hello, my love. Don’t tell me you walked here?
Woman: Of course. *blows nose in tissue* A twenty minute walk never killed anyone.
Man: It might in this weather. Although, do you realize it’s colder here than where we’ll be skiing next week?  
Woman: Scary thought. *fixes hair* I must look a mess.
Man: You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. But you mentioned something about being upset?
Woman: Yes, the IRS closed Gar_ _ _’s salon.
Man: What? What do you mean closed?
Woman: I mean, shut down … locked the doors. We were all in shock.
Man: But why?
Woman: Evidently he owes back taxes.
Man: How much?
Woman: A million.
Man: Can he pay?
Woman: I guess not. I don't know if he has the money. 
Man: But he must have been paying his rent.
Woman: Yes, I suppose ... just not his taxes.
Man: And they shut down his business? Have they no shame? How is he supposed to earn a living? And it’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating. They're heartless.
Woman: They do not care. They want their money.
Man: But how much can he earn? $200,000 a year?
Woman: Two hundred … what did you just say?! *incredulous*
Man: I said, how much can he be earning. $200,00 a year.
Woman: Are you kidding me? He’s a top hair stylist with clients like Madonna, Gwynneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie and you think he’s earning a measly $200,000 a year? Doubtful.
Man: Then how much?
Woman: Try ten times that much.
Man: Really?
Woman: Yes.
Man: What’s he going to do?
Woman: I just talked to him. He’s moved back to Florida. He has a salon there, you know. He'll keep that one open. 
Man: I guess Florida protects your assets. I think it’s why OJ moved there. Remember? They couldn’t touch his assets?
Woman: I have no idea, but they’re not just going to let this drop. The IRS isn’t like that.
Man: Where was his salon? I mean, in NY?
Woman: Oh, it was in the best section. Mick Jagger lives around there … in The _________.
Man: Mick Jagger?
Woman: Yes, he’s in the gym all the time. I mean, all the time. I have a friend living in The _______ and he says, he’s in there working out for hours at a time.
Man: Really? Impressive. He must be in his seventies.
Woman: I think so. Maybe. Let me get a latte; then we’ll leave.
Man: Yes, it’s getting late. You know, you really do look beautiful.
Woman: *smiles* *goes to counter to purchase drink*
Man Sitting Next to their table: Hey, that’s a great jacket. Must be warm.
Man: Thank you, it is. I’m going to bring it on my trip to Aspen next week. We’re going skiing.
Woman: Ready? *has drink* *puts on coat*
Man: After you, my dear.
*they exit into the cold as I continue writing*