conversation

Honey, I've got good news and bad news..

Hmm, ok, bad news first. Wait, no, gimme the good news first.

Ok... well, remember the audition I had last Thursday?

Oh, yeah, for the "Handsome Older Man" part... So you got it?!?

Yeah. I got it. Oh I got the part alright.

So what's the bad news?

Well, the bad news is that you're looking at the new poster boy for Depends Diapers.

Oh, honey that's o...

(cuts her off) That's ok? Is that what you're gonna say? That's ok?

Honey, it's a job, it's a paying job, so it's ok. You're working, and that's what's important.

No... It's not ok! It is not fucking ok!

Oh honey, you said a lot of people auditioned for that job. And you were the one who got it, so trust me, it is ok. Maybe this can lead to some other modeling work for you.

Modeling work? Modeling work? What kind of modeling work comes after this? An extra in a nursing home scene? Maybe a body in a morgue? Trust me, this is not ok. And I haven't even told you the worst part...

(she walks over and rubs his back) What is it honey?

So after the photo shoot, this little chicken-shit director comes up and tells me that Terry O'Quinn is gonna be in town next week and he's teaching a 3-day workshop on how play a dead guy in a casket. And he's charging $350 per session or $1,000 for all three, and this little cocksucker suggested I sign up for it.

Oh, Terry's gonna be in town?

(imitating her high voice) "Oh, Terry's gonna be in town?" What are you gonna do, give that asshole a call? He never calls us!

Oh honey, you know he moved to Hawaii once he got the role on Lost. It'd be nice to see him again.

Terry O'Quinn... (stops and shakes his head) Man, I remember when that piece of shit was my understudy in A Mid Summer Night's Dream in '78. And then I did Hamlet in '81, and that cocksucker didn't even get on the bill.

Yes, I remember.

I was going out there every night, working my fucking ass off, and he was running around drinking cheap beer, banging strippers and doing extra work on soap operas a few days every month. What an asshole!

(rolls her eyes because she's heard the story over 100 times) Well you know what it's like in this business.

Yeah, I know what it's like in this fucking business. Oh, trust me, I know what it's fucking like in this goddamn business when a piece of shit no talent motherfucker like Terry O'Quinn can trip and fall on a roll on Lost, and five years later that asshole can fly into LA for a week and run a three day seminar on how to play a fucking CORPSE, and can ask for a thousand fucking dollars a head for it!

So, did you sign up for it?

Of course I fucking signed up for it! I got the three day package.

Oh, well that's good honey.

Yeah, the director told me if I can break into that game, I might be able to get myself two or three credited gigs a year, just playing a dead grandfathers, or a random body in a funeral home scene, that sort of thing.

There you go honey!

(imitates her high voice) "There you go honey" (he raises his fists and slams them down onto the kitchen counter with force, rattling the plates and glasses) FUCK!!

Honey,

Terry Fucking O'Quinn is laying on a goddamn beach in Maui, counting his fucking money, and I'm over here in this god-forsaken Lawndale apartment, arguing with the fucking Whirlpool repairman about the $10 I want him to take off our bill for the five minutes he spent taking a shit on the job!

Honey, stop...

That cocksucking motherfucker's got ten goddamn acres of beachfront property, and I was on the phone today talking to a guy about renting an apartment in Watts because we'd be a little closer to Hollywood for my potential dead guy auditions.

Honey, it's ok..

(slows down his speech) And you know what that motherfucker -- that goddamn slumlord -- told me?

(she waits for him to continue)

He said we'd probably be priced out of Watts, but that he had a couple of one bedrooms in West Compton for me to look at.

(she waits for him to continue) 

Like I'm going to move my fucking ass to West fucking Compton to shave 15 minutes off a drive I'm probably going to make five times a year?

I'm gonna call Terry, maybe we can all go out to dinner.

You think I give a flying fuck about having dinner with Terry O'Quinn? That sack of shit... I was doing summer stock with Allen Arkin while that asshole was banging Angela Lansbury every afternoon in her Murder She Wrote trailer.

Come on honey, what's done is done. You know Terry would probably like to see you too.

(whispering) I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen to me good...

What?

(thinking about what he wants to say) ...

What is it honey?

(still whispering) I don't have all of the answers ok. (laughs to himself and takes a deep breath and then brings his voice back up to normal) Trust me, I don't have all of the answers in this life, ok, that should be obvious And...

(she waits for him to continue)

You know what, grab me a beer, will ya?

Sure honey. (walks over to the fridge and looks in) Oh I need to go to the store, we finished the beer when my brother was here on Friday.

Well then pour me a fucking shot of tequila.

We finished the tequila that night too.

Well, what the fuck do we have?

Well, nothing, I'll run to the store right now and I'll be back in a half hour.

You're telling me we don't have a single goddamn bottle in there?

Well, we've got that Triple Sec but...

(cuts her off) Fuck it, pour me a goddamn glass of Triple Sec!

Honey, you're supposed to mix that...

Are you fucking telling me what to drink and what not to drink? Huh? I know what you're supposed to do with it, but I want to drink the goddamn shit, now.

(she hesitates)

(he brushes past her and walks to the liquor shelf and violently grabs the bottle) Fuck it, if you want something done right... (he pours himself a tall glass of triple sec, then drops in a couple of ice cubes and chugs half the glass in his first sip)

(he spits it out immediately, and then vomits the rest into the sink)

FUCK! (he picks up the glass again and tries to drink what is left but gags on it again and spits it all up)

(she stands there watching him in horror)

(he looks up at her) What happened?!?! I thought you were going to the fucking store!

(she shakes her head and walks towards where she left her keys)

Fuck it, I'll go myself.

No! No! I'll go, I don't want you driving.

Well, then hurry the fuck up! It's wednesday, I got yoga at 6:00!!