INT. MCGINTRY’S PUB – NIGHT
Just a neighborhood bar – complete with excessive smoke, sports of some kind on the television hanging over the bar, dyspeptic regulars hogging the high stools furthest from the door draft. GILLIAN and DARKO SAVERANCE are sitting in a corner booth in the back of the room, several empty shot glasses are arrayed in front of them. DARKO, 35, a French-Czech mix, is scruffy, in a stylish nouveau-intelligentsia way. A waitress comes over and deposits two more shots of Jack Daniels on the table.
GILLIAN
(lifting up one of the new shots and staring blearily at it)
Shit. Rumor has it I’m supposed to go to work tomorrow, you know.
(shuts eyes and throws shot back)
(beat)
Not bloody likely.
DARKO
(toasting GILLIAN with his own glass)
Bravo. Here’s to your Puritan work ethic.
(downs the shot and shivers)
GILLIAN sighs and slumps against DARKO, leaning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.
DARKO
(leans his head against GILLIAN’s)
Okay, G. You gonna tell me what’s up with you tonight? Or do I have to beat it out of you?
GILLIAN
(not opening her eyes)
Promises, promises.
I’m just in a funk. But thanks for coming out with me.
DARKO
Yeah, okay. But what’s the funk for? Been watching reruns of thirtysomething again? Wallowing in corporate guilt?
DARKO strokes GILLIAN’s hair, tucks a few stray locks behind her ear, runs a finger lazily down her nose. It’s an intimate gesture and we get the sense that these two have a history that’s more than just friends.
GILLIAN
(smiling and snuggling closer)
You got it, Darkling. I’m suddenly feeling all guilted-up about the negative effect I and all my peers are having on the soul of the nation. I should be staked out and flogged for every lawsuit I file.
DARKO
(takes a sip of his beer)
Flogging, eh? Can I volunteer?
GILLIAN
You think I would let anyone else do it?
DARKO
(nudges GILLIAN off his shoulder so that she’s sitting up)
‘Course not. However, seeing as how I’m now your personal whiphandler, maybe you should fess up and tell Uncle Darko about your Grandmaster Funk and why it requires so much Jack.
GILLIAN
(runs a hand through her hair and sighs)
It’s really nothing. Just kind of feeling down about stuff. Nothing in particular.
(pulls a Dunhill out of the pack and lights it up)
When are you gonna make me stop this filthy habit?
DARKO
I’m working my way through all your filthy habits. That one’s next.
Seriously, Gillian. What’s spinning your hamster wheel tonight?
GILLIAN
(blows a stream of smoke out between her lips)
You ever feel like a misfit, Darko? Not a circus freak, I mean, but someone who just doesn’t really fit in. Like you’re living in a parallel universe that’s like ours – but not the same.
DARKO
This is about your sixth toe and that extra ear you keep tucked under your arm, isn’t it.
(takes a drink of his beer)
Well, sure. Doesn’t everyone have misfit moments? I always get them at family reunions. It’s like you’re having a truly lovely dinner with the Lectors and then you suddenly realize what’s really going on – and it isn’t the Joy of Vegetarian Cooking.
GILLIAN
(pokes DARKO in the side so that he almost spills his beer)
Very funny, Hannibal. I’m serious. I’m just having this overwhelming feeling of … apartness, I guess. That’s not even a word, is it?
DARKO
Not even close. But I think I get what you’re saying. It’s like stepping outside of yourself for a while to observe and realizing that you’re just not that crazy about what you see.
GILLIAN
If it was a fish I’d throw it back.
DARKO
If it was a movie I’d walk out.
GILLIAN
If it was a date I’d fake a seizure.
CUT TO:
EXT. DARK STREET – MIDNIGHT
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Just a scene from a screenplay I was writing at my last job…I think I may be incompatible with screenwriting, however, as I like writing scenes better than I like figuring out an actual plot. But, hope springs eternal. I may not have a Great American Novel within me, but I’m positive that I at least have a really angsty episode of Dawson’s Creek…
