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View Full Version : Stepping up in the world



fugginVOSS
12-20-09, 10:39 PM
(CUT-TO: a man wearing a Bay Pointe Country Club polo and a pair of jeans sitting in a waiting room. He tries to read a golf magazine, sitting forward with his elbows resting on his knees, but the constant clacking of the receptionist's gum in her mouth seems to irk him with every pop. He folds it up and stares across at her.)

Receptionist: What?

Man: Do you mind?

Receptionist: Mind what?

Man: That thing you're doing. (He points at her and making a twirling motion with his finger.)That thing.

Receptionist: What thing? My work? My job? You want me to stop doing my job?

Man: What? No. No I don't want you to stop doing your job. That THING you're doing. With your mouth?

Receptionist: With my mouth?

(Tilting her head to side, like all the thoughts might gather on one side of her head and muster an idea, she stares blankly at him.)

Receptionist: I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.

Man: With the gum. The thing you're doing with the gum. In your mouth.

Receptionist: This? (She clacks the bum again.) Are you talking about that?

(The man closes his eyes, as if transporting himself to a happy place that she wasn't in. He opens the slowly, disdain stricken across his face.)

Man: Yes, that. Would you please stop it?

Receptionist: Well, why didn't you just say so? Of course I can. You have a good day, sir.

Man: A good day? I've got an appointment.

Receptionist: You do?

Man: Yes, I do. That's why I came up and told you my name.

Receptionist: I thought you were just introducing yourself.

Man: What? No. NO! Why would someone come in off the street and just introduce themselves?

Receptionist: I know, right! I thought it was weird. I was like what is this guy doing introducing himself like this?

Man: You're the receptionist. I was telling you I was here to see Mr. Jolt!

(The man slaps his forehead, shaking his head in disgust before running his hand down the length of his face.)

Man: It's your job. People come up and check in all the time.

Receptionist: You should have been more specific.

Man: Who else was I coming to see?

Receptionist: How should I know?

Man: You're the receptionist! Surely more people come in here to see Mr. Jolt.

Receptionist: A few.

Man: Did you tell him I was in?

Receptionist: Tell who you are in?

Man: (Angry.) Mr. Jolt! DID - YOU - TELL HIM - I - WAS - HERE - TO - SEE HIM!??

Receptionist: No. No I did not.

Man: Why not?

Receptionist: Because I thought you were just introducing yourself.

Man: (Frustrated.) I'm NOT just introducing myself!

(The man grabs a cushion of a nearby sofa and screams loudly into the cushion, trying to vent his frustrations into the room's furnishings. When he pulls the cushion down, his face is bright red. He draws a calming breath and exhales slowly. The receptionist smiles stupidly at him.)

Man: Okay. Let's try this again. So you don't waste any more of my life, okay?

Receptionist: Okay.

Man: Okay. My name is John Johnson.

Receptionist: Pleased to meet you, John.

(Johnson's hand snapped up, as if he were forcing her to halt. She was taken aback by the gesture, her hand clutched her bosom as her jaw gaped a little in shock.)

Johnson: Okay. Let's just be quiet for a moment while I finish what I'm saying, okay?

Receptionist: (Relaxing.) Okay.

Johnson: Right. I'm John Johnson and I've got an appointment with Mr. Jolt at 1:30.

Receptionist: Oh wow. That's a coincidence.

Johnson: (Confused.) What's a coinicidence?

Receptionist: Well, Mr. Jolt spoke to me on the phone thirty minutes ago.

Johnson: He did? What did he say?

Receptionist: He said since his 1:30 was late he was going out to lunch. He went out the back. It's easier to get to the restaurant district through the street out back.

Johnson: He went out back? What? Wait! I was HERE thirty minutes ago. I was here an HOUR ago. Call him back. Get him back here.

Receptionist: I'm sorry. But you were late.

Johnson: Late? LATE? No. No I wasn't. I wasn't late. I was here. I was sitting here. In this seat. Right here. Before your eyes. I came and checked in with you. Then sat down right in front of your face. Right here. (He points to the seat.) Right where you told me to. Remember? I came in and checked in with you.

Receptionist: Introduced yourself.

Johnson: Pardon?

Receptionist: You came over and introduced yourself. (In sing-song.) Re-mem-berrrr?

Johnson: Remember? You... you.... (he draws another long breath.) Calm down, John. Just calm down. This will be fine. Everything will work out.

(He closes his eyes, drawing another deep breath. He rises his hands up as he inhales and lets them drop to his knees as he exhales.)

Johnson: Okay. When is he coming back?

Receptionist: He's gone home for the day.

Johnson: You just said he's gone for lunch.

Receptionist: He has.

Johnson: But you just said he's gone home for the day.

Receptionist: After lunch he's heading straight home.

Johnson: Sh!t. Fuck. Sh!t sh!t fuck!

Receptionist: There's no need for that language, Mr. Johnstone.

Johnson: Johnson. It's Johnson. JOOOOHHNNNNNNN - SOOOOONNNNNN! JOHNSON!

Receptionist: Johnson?

Johnson: Yes! Johnson!

Receptionist: Well why didn't you say so? He only needed you to sign these.

Johnson: You mean... I could've just come in here and signed these things and gone on my way?

Receptionist: Yes.

Johnson: You made me wait all this time and I could have just signed these things and gone home?

Receptionist: You should have came and checked in properly instead of just introducing yourself.

Johnson: God dammit. Are you mental? Why didn't you just let me sign them? It doesn't matter. Okay? It doesn't matter. Just hand me a pen and I'll sign them.

Receptionist: Oooooo! Someone's bossy today.

Johnson: What's this for?

Receptionist: Your contract.

Johnson: For Just Wrestling?

Receptionist: No. For Next Level Wrestling.

Johnson: Next Level? Really?

Receptionist: Yes really. Mr. Jolt found you more work but he was very disappointed you didn't show up at 1:30.

(John snatches the pen from her hand, staring a hole into her forehead like he had the potential to have a laser beam stare and explode her brain with a single glance. The receptionist is taken aback by his outburst as he signs the contract and picks it up, pressing it into her chest forcing her to clutch it and take it from him.)

Johnson: Tell Mr. Jolt that if he doesn't assess the idiots in his employment that I might have to find somebody else to represent me professionally.

Receptionist: Idiots? (She leans in to whipser to John.) Are you talking about security out front? I ALWAYS have trouble with them.

Johnson: Are you married, miss?

Receptionist: Why yes. Yes, I am. Why do you ask?

Johnson: Just wondering. But tell me... does your husband drink? Alot? Does he drink alot?

(FadeToBlack.)