True Story

(Scene: A Starbucks in Santa Monica. Big Bad Al is sitting at a small, cramped table, furiously typinging on her laptop, while flipping through the Federal Income Tax books and suppluments strewn around her. Highlighters of every color, pens, pencils, old coffee and tea cups, and the remnants of various fatty pastries surround her.)

Mr. X: mrvffff....nmrwrnn fmrmrv fymmmrmmrmmr gggaaarrrrr....
(Mr X towers over Big Bad Al's table until she gets creeped out enough to realize that he's just standing. staring. She glances up, still typing)

Big Bad Al: sorry, I have earplugs in.

Mr. X: (louder) I SAID, WOWWWW....SOMEONE'S SURE STUDYING HARRRRRRRRRRD.

Big Bad Al: (Still typing) um. yeah.

(awkward silence)

Mr. X: (loud) SO WHAT ARE YOU STUDYING FOR?

Big Bad Al: (still typing) um...law school...I have finals...

Mr. X: (loud) WOOOOWWWW...IMPRESSSSIVE....

(Awkward scilence. He stands. He stares.)

Mr. X: (loud) CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING? LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE RUNNING LOW ON COFFEE, AND YOU KNOW, COFFEE'S A STUDENT'S BEEEEEESSSSST FRIEEEEEEEND.

Big Bad Al: (still typing) um...no thanks...I've had my fill.

(Awkward scilence. He stands. He stares.)

Mr. X: (loud) SO, DO YOU LIVE AROUND HERE???

Big Bad Al: (Still typing) um. yeah.

Mr. X: (still loud) OH. WHERE? RIGHT AROUND HERE?

(silence)

(silence)

Mr. X: (loud) HELLLLLOOOOOO...(taps Big Al's table)...I ASKED YOU A QUEEEESSSSSSSTIONNNN.....WHERE EXACTLY DO YOU LIVE...?

Big Bad Al: (typing stops) Um...I'm sorry...I...don't know you...and...I don't really...uh...feel...comfortable telling you...where I live. And I'm really tryig to study. (feigned smile)(typing restarts)

Mr. X: what?

(sound of typing)

Mr X: ...ahem...what?

Big Bad Al: (typing stops) (Sigh)...I said, I don't know you, and I don't feel comfortable telling you where I live. Sorry. And I'm really trying to study, so...thanks... (typing starts)

Mr. X: Wait...What...did you just say...???

Big Bad Al: (typing stops)(LOUD) OH...WAIT...DO YOU HAVE EARPLUGS IN TOO?

Mr. X: WHAT!?!

Big Bad Al: (LOUDER) I SAID...I'M SORRY, DO YOU HAVE EARPLUGS IN TOO????

Mr. X: NO!!

Big Bad Al: OH, BECAUSE IT DIDN'T SEEM LIKE YOU COULD HEAR ME VERY WELL.

Mr. X: I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE! I JUST COULDN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU JUST SAID THAT TO ME. I'M JUST TRYING TO MAKE CONVERSATION, YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE RUDE. JUST RELAX.

Big Bad Al: Oh, well MAYBE you should try making CONVERSATION with SOMEBODY who's not TYPING FURIOUSLY, studying for LAW SCHOOL FINALS and WEARING EARPLUGS!!!

Mr. X: JESUS CHRIST, YOU'RE JUST A BITCH!

Big Bad Al: OH, THAT'S RIGHT. I'm sorry, I forgot to wear my "DON'T TALK TO ME WHEN I'M IMMERSED IN MY STUDIES AND WEARING EAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRPLUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGSSSSSSS" T-SHIRT TODAY. You're right, It's totally MY FAULT. I APOLOGIZE.

Mr. X: YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO INTERACT WITH PEOPLE YOU SHOULD JUST GO TO YOUR SECRET HOME WHERE NOBODY CAN BOTHER YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE JUST SO GODDAMNED SPECIAL. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW??????

Big Bad Al: Fine. (packing up stuff) Fine. FINE. I WILL go home. This is a bunch of BULLSHIT. SO, just because i'm SITTING HERE, I'M SUPPOSED TO CATER TO YOUR EVERY FUCKING QUESETION ABOUT MY LIFE, WHILE I'M TRYING TO FUCKING STUDY??? FINE! I WILL GO! AND I HOPE YOU KNOW IT'S BECAUSE YOUR'E A HUGE SELF ABSORBED DOUCHEBAG BULLY!! YEAH, BULLY!!! YOU CAN HAVE YOUR FUCKING PLAYGROUND BACK, BITCH!

Mr. X: What...what did you just....? Okay, YOU are just crazy, lady.

Big Bad Al: STOP FUCKING SAYING "JUST"!!!!!!!!

(Big Bad Al storms out of scene, Mr. X shakes his head, sips his iced orange mocha frappucccino, and takes her seat.) (fade out)