We Do What We Can

[Read this out loud, if you can.  All the way through.  If you can find someone to read it with to take the two parts, even better.  If you have a 3rd person to read the directions, congratulations, you’ve got a full table read.

Don’t read the brackets out loud; just do what it says]

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FADE IN:

INT–A WHISKEY JOINT–NIGHT

The bar is quiet, and dimly lit.  There are a few patrons sprinkled throughout the room, at the bar, at a high-top table, at a booth.  The bartender is busy cutting lemons while the waitress slowly makes her way through the room.

JACK, a tired looking man in his late 30s or early 40s sits in a booth near the jukebox.  He digs through the dregs of a finished drink, fishing through ice cubes.  Finding one he likes, he pops it in his mouth and chews.  He surveys the room.

The bartender looks up from his lemons, and stares off into space for a moment.  His eyes are drawn to the sound of the door opening and banging shut.

EVAN, a scruffy faced, rumpled-suit-wearing man in his early 30s looks around the room, his eyes searching.

Jack’s head pops up.  He raises his hand to half mast.

JACK
Hey…hey, Evan! Over here.

He beckons him over.

EVAN
Hey, man, sorry I’m late.

JACK
No worries.  I got started already.  Hope you don’t mind.

EVAN
No, no, of course not.  What are we drinking?

JACK
Whiskey.  Coke.

Evan takes off his jacket, drops it on the seat and begins rolling up his sleeves.

EVAN
Cool.  Get me one?  Tall, double?  I gotta play catch up.

JACK
Where you going?

EVAN
Music.  This place is killing me, it’s so quiet.  I got this round.

Evan wanders to the jukebox, drops a dollar in and starts pressing buttons as Jack flags down the waitress.

EVAN
What is this?…no, no…nice…

[ Open this link in a separate tab or window and press play now; then continue reading .  Here’s the link:  http://youtu.be/R7f189Z0v0Y ]

Evan presses a couple of buttons on the screen, nods to himself and then plops back into the booth and looks at Jack.

JACK
Where ya been, man?  I escaped family, dishes and dogs to get here…the kids?

EVAN
Sorry about that.  I got distracted.  Blogs.

JACK
So, is that your thing now?  You blogging?

EVAN
I have no idea, man.  I’m just kind of doing it.  Something to stretch my creative muscles…passing the time while I figure out my life.  Figure out a direction.

A BEAT.

JACK
What’s your voice?

The waitress comes by, casually drops coasters on the table and plops two ugly looking whiskey-cokes on top of them before wandering off to send a text.

Evan takes a big pull.

EVAN
What?

JACK
What’s your voice?  What are you writing about?  What do you have to say?

EVAN
I’m not entirely sure…but I’ve been reading some cool stuff, meeting people…

JACK
(sipping)
MMMmm-HMMmm

EVAN
No, really…I was reading through this post about this guy’s relationship with guns–

JACK
What, you’re a gun guy now?

EVAN
Not one of them open carry guys, but I’ve always kinda dug–

JACK
Wait, is this that Pet Shop Boys song?

EVAN
Well, they did a cover…

JACK
(sipping)
This Willie Nelson?

EVAN
Yeah.  Not as lavish as Elvis, but it’s still solid…

JACK
I wouldn’t have pegged you as a country and western man…

Evan shrugs.

JACK
Your well runs deep, huh?

Evan smirks and stares down into his drink.

JACK
Why the sad song, man?

EVAN
It’s not sad…just…mellow.

JACK
You not feeling the love these days?

Evan takes a long pull from his drink and then stares out the window as a woman walks by, texting.

JACK
Seriously, man, you cool?

EVAN
I’m good, man…I’m just… I’ve had a bunch on my plate lately.

JACK
I feel you.  Well, take your time, man.

EVAN
Thanks…

The two men sit there, sipping their drinks, staring out the window at nothing in particular.

FADE OUT

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