EXT. PACIFIC ISLAND - DAY
An idyllic scene of breathtaking beauty. The surf gently crashes on a beach to the cries of seagulls, as palm trees wave against a crystal blue sky.
INT. BUNGALOW - CONTINUOUS
The beautiful vista can be seen through the window as soft music plays.
MARCIA SIEGEL, covered by a white sheet, lies face-down on a massage table. She’s an attractive woman, fast approaching thirty. She’s clearly enjoying the massage being given to her by JULIO, a stunningly handsome Latino man, stripped to the waist, his chiseled muscles glistening with oil.
Oh, Julio, you’re the best. Mmm...
Time to turn over, señorita.
Marcia turns over, coyly pulling the sheet up to her chin.
Julio offers her a box of Belgian chocolates.
Would señorita care for a chocolate?
Oh, no, I can’t. I’m watching my
How silly you are. These are magic
chocolates. The more you eat, the
more weight you lose.
Oh, of course, that’s right. How could
Julio picks a chocolate from the box. Marcia opens her mouth and he slowly, seductively, places it on her tongue.
Señorita...Marcia. There’s something
I must tell you.
What is it, Julio?
I’m not really a cabana boy. I’ve jus
been pretending all this time so I
could get close to you.
I don’t understand.
In my real life, I’m actually an
extremely successful businessman.
I hold the patent on water.
The patent on water? My God. That
must make you--
That’s right. I’m the richest man in the
world. And I’d give it all up just to be
Marcia, my dear, my beloved, there’s
something I’ve been waiting...aching to
Yes, Julio? What is it?
Julio leans forward and gazes deeply, longingly into her eyes. There is a long moment of silence as they appear to be looking into each other’s very souls.
Marcia, my dearest?
He speaks softly yet passionately, his voice oozing with romance.
Traffic on the 101 is backed up all
the way to the Cahuenga Pass.
Marcia looks at him uncomprehendingly.
Southbound the 405 is slow from
Ventura to the 105.
Marcia is now completely baffled.
What are you--?
(now in the voice of a
female radio announcer)
On the 10 eastbound, an injury/accident
off to the right shoulder is slowing traffic--
INT. MARCIA’S BEDROOM – MORNING
Marcia wakes up in bed, the sheet clutched up to her chin. Her radio alarm clock plays a traffic report.
FEMALE RADIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
--from Cloverfield. On the 110
northbound near Manchester Avenue,
debris in the road is blocking the
number four lane--
Marcia rolls over and turns off the radio. She lies in bed for a few moments, laughs at herself, then throws off the covers and gets up.
INT. MARCIA’S BATHROOM - LATER
Marcia, sharply dressed for work, professional yet decidedly fashionable. She painstakingly applies her lipstick and studies her face in the mirror for any trace of wrinkles.
She carefully surveys her outfit, making sure there are no creases.
She turns to leave the bathroom, then stops. Returns to the mirror and once again studies her mouth, making sure her lipstick is perfectly applied. Finally satisfied, she turns and leaves the room.
EXT. DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES - DAY
Marcia steps off a bus onto a crowded city sidewalk and walks towards her office. She’s joined by her friend ANN, who is every so slightly older and less attractive than she.
Go anywhere fun this weekend?
And miss the What Not to Wear
marathon on cable?
God, we’re both pathetic.
You saw it too?
All twelve hours. I ate so much Ben
and Jerry’s I was practically
hyperglycemic. Why didn’t you go out
Oh, it’s over with Martin.
You know. He did that spitting thing.
For God’s sake, Marcia. Martin isn’t
good enough for you. Jim wasn’t good
enough for you. Tom wasn’t good enough
Oh, come on. Tom? He had those ears.
So his ears were a little big.
A little? He used to have to notify LAX on
windy days. Hey, at least I had a great
dream last night. The richest man in the
world asked me to marry him.
The richest man in the world, huh?
You know, money can’t buy everything.
Sister, whatever it can’t buy me, I don’t
Ann laughs as they walk down the sidewalk.
Across the street, on the opposite sidewalk and headed in the opposite direction, walk BILL CALDWELL and his friend DOUG. They are both in their early thirties and are both dressed in slightly scruffy, corporate casual attire.
--and then, from behind the curtain,
comes the entire Swedish Bikini Team.
Only--and this is the crucial part—
without the bikinis. Top that.
Nope, you win. I can’t even
remember my dreams from last
night. I probably dreamt about
filing my taxes or something.
Oh, dude, that’s sad. If you’re not
getting any in real life, you should at
least be having some cool dreams.
What can I tell you? I’ll take it up
with my unconscious.
INT. LOBBY OF OFFICE BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER
Marcia and Ann arrive at the lobby of their office building, which is bustling with activity.
Marcia steps up to a bank of elevators.
Hey, you going to the thing tonight?
You know. The big reception.
Oh, God. I hate those things.
Come on, Marcia. Maybe we’ll meet
a couple of really great guys.
Yeah, in your dreams.
Of course, if you’d prefer to stay
home, I hear there’s a Murder She
Wrote marathon on the Lifetime
channel. I’m sure you and your cats
will enjoy that.
Okay, okay. I’ll stop by and check it
out. God, you’re a worse nag than
The elevator doors open and Marcia steps on, along with a wave of others.
(calling behind her in a
And don’t forget to clean up that
room, young lady!
Marcia smirks and gives her the finger as the elevator doors close.
EXT. COFFEE HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
Bill and Doug stop outside a coffee house.
There she is
Doug gestures through the window of the establishment.
That chick I was telling you about
Bill looks through the window. Inside, an incredibly hot young woman is ordering a coffee at the counter.
She’s there every morning. Always
alone, even on Saturdays and
Sundays. Which means...
Which means she doesn’t have
company on Friday and Saturday
What do I have to do, draw you a
map? Go talk to her. You haven’t
even had a date in months.
Oh...I don’t know. I mean, I appreciate
it and all, but...
What’s the problem?
I’m just not very good at that kind
of thing. You know, walking up to a
strange woman, striking up a
conversation. Besides, I don’t think
I’m over Lisa yet.
Lisa walked out six months ago.
Come on, Bill. At this rate, you’re
going to need Viagra by the time you
have sex again. Just go talk to her.
And say what?
Say anything. Talk about the weather.
No, seriously, the weather? That’s
going to impress her? Women are
really captivated by witty meteorological
observations these days, are they?
You know what your problem is? You
think too much. Come on, take a
risk for once in your life.
Doug opens the door of the coffee house for Bill. Bill heaves a heavy sigh and walks in.
Through the glass, Doug watches as Bill orders a coffee at the counter. He takes the coffee and joins the woman at the condiment stand.
INT. COFFEE HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
Bill stands directly across from the woman, who’s pouring nonfat milk into her chai tea. He picks up the sugar, begins pouring it into his coffee. Glances toward the window.
Doug gives him a “thumbs up” sign.
Bill pours more sugar into his coffee. Clears his throat. The woman doesn’t notice. He continues pouring. She glances up for just a moment. He tries to make eye contact with her, smiles. Again, she doesn’t notice.
He continues pouring sugar into his coffee. Begins whistling. Again, the woman doesn’t acknowledge him.
Finally, she picks up her tea and leaves. Bill watches as she walks out the door, right past Doug. A moment later, he follows her.
EXT. COFFEE HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
I don’t think we really hit it off.
Want some coffee?
You don’t want it?
I don’t take sugar.
He hands Doug the coffee and walks away. Doug tastes it and makes a face of disgust.
EXT. ROOFTOP OF MARCIA’S OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
The rooftop is decorated for a party, with streamers, tables, and various bar stations scattered about, and a lectern stationed at one edge of the roof. The roof is packed with professionally dressed people, drinking and mingling.
At the podium, an older, PRIM WOMAN is delivering a speech with the lights of the Los Angeles skyline as a backdrop.
And this quarter, under the leadership
of Mr. Farnsworth, we have once again
been named the top realty company in
Los Angeles. Thank you all for your
hard work. And now...enjoy!
A smattering of applause.
EXT. - AT THE BAR
Marcia stands alone at the bar nursing a drink and looking extremely bored.
Don’t you hate these things?
God, yes. And if I have to listen to one
more speech about how bloody
wonderful Clifford Farnsworth is, I
think I’ll pu--
She turns to find she’s speaking to CLIFFORD FARNSWORTH, president and CEO of the company. He’s a tall, dashingly handsome man with a thousand dollar suit and a million dollar smile.
Oh, my God. Mr. Farnsworth. I’m
so sorry, I didn’t mean--
Don’t worry. I get awfully tired
hearing about myself, too. Forgive
me if this is an impertinent question
but...do you work for me?
Uh, yes. Actually. About three
years now. In Finance.
Really? Well, I must make a note
to give someone in H.R. a raise for
hiring somebody so...fetching.