High Fidelity (2000)

by D.V. De Vincentis, Steve Pink, & John Cusack.

Based on the novel by Nick Hornby.

London Draft, 9/11/98.

FADE IN:

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

STEREO

Not a minisystem, not a matching set, but coveted audiophile

clutter of McIntosh and Nakamichi, each component from a

different era, bought piece by piece in various nanoseconds

of being flush.

ROB (V.O.)

What came first?  The music or the

misery?  People worry about kids

playing with guns and watching

violent videos, we're scared that

some sort of culture of violence is

taking them over...

RECORDS

Big thin LPs.  Fields of them.  We move across them, slowly...

they seem to come to rest in an end of a few books... but

then the CD's start, and go on, faster and faster, forever

then the singles, then the tapes...

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

But nobody worries about kids

listening to thousands -- literally

thousands -- of songs about broken

hearts and rejection and pain and

misery and loss.

It seems the records, tapes, and CD's will never end until...

we come to ROB -- always a hair out of place, a face that

grows on you.  He sits in an oversized beanbag chair and

addresses us, the wall of music behind him.

ROB

Did I listen to pop music because I

was miserable, or was I miserable

because I listened to pop music?

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

A group of bags huddled next to the door.  Not the go-on-

vacation set, but the clothes-to-coffee-maker moving out

variety.  Rob stares at them, his face unreadable, his head

gripped by a big pair Boudokan headphones.  We hear what he

is hearing, something foreboding and upbeat at the same time.

LAURA, Rob's girlfriend, enters the room, and he immediately

pulls the headphones off.  She clocks him for a moment, catching

him in what seems to be an old and repeated moment of

nonpresence.  She begins to heft the bags, Rob goes to her, a

little tardy for his big goodbye.  Laura begins to cry a bit.

LAURA

I don't really know what I'm doing.

He smiles, and she doesn't.  He adjusts.

ROB

You don't have to go this second.

You can stay until whenever.

LAURA

We've done the hard part now.  I

might as well, you know...

ROB

Well stay for tonight, then.

Laura shakes her head, lifts the last small bag, and backs

out the door.  A strap catches on a handle and the two of

them wrestle with it a bit, while trying to keep the door

open, until Laura awkwardly disappears from view and the

door shuts behind Rob.  He stays right there staring at the

shut door for a long moment, listening to the fading sound

of Laura and her dragging bags.

STEREO

Rob's left hand cranks the volume knob while his right

switches the CD changer to something loud and adrenal.  He

addresses us again.

ROB

My desert-island, all-time, top

five most memorable break-ups, in

chronological order are as follows:

Alison Ashworth, Penny Hardwick,

Jackie Allen, Charlie Nicholson,

Sarah Kendrew.

INT. APARTMENT STAIRWELL

Laura drags her bags, banging down the stairs --

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT

Rob moves around the apartment, seeming to expand physically,

looking for change as he continues.

ROB

Those were the ones that really

hurt.  Can you see your name in

that list, Laura?  Maybe you'd

sneak into the top ten, but there's

no place for you in the top five.

Sorry.  Those places are reserved

for the kind of humiliations and

heartbreaks that you're just not

capable of delivering.

He adjusts the angle of the TV, stuffs a creepy family

portrait into a drawer.

ROB (CONT'D)

That probably sounds crueler than

it's meant to, but the fact is,

we're too old to take each other

miserable.  Unhappiness used to

mean something.  Now it's just a

drag like a cold or having no money.

He moves through the living room to an open window facing

the street.  Looking down two stories, he sees Laura emerge

from the building and drag her bags toward her car across

the street.

ROB (CONT'D)

If you really wanted to mess me up,

you should have got to me earlier.

CUT TO:

EXT. SUBURBAN PARK - DUSK - 1980

Rob and Alison sit on the bench, kissing awkwardly.

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

Which brings us to number one.

Alison Ashworth.

PARK BENCH - DUSK

The same shot, the next night: new clothes, same clumsy

make-out session.

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

My relationship with Alison Ashworth

lasted six hours.

PARK BENCH - DUSK

...Next night...

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

The two hours after school and

before The Rockford Files, three

days in a row.  On the fourth

afternoon.

SAME PARK BENCH

...And the fourth night...

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

Kevin Bannister.

Alison and another boy, KEVIN BANNISTER.  Kissing.  In the

background, Rob approaches and stops.  He implodes with

self-consciousness and humiliation and attempts to affect a

casual gait as he mopes away.

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

It would be nice to think that

since I was fourteen, times have

changed, relationships have become

more sophisticated, females less

cruel, skins thicker, but there

still seems to be an element of

that afternoon in everything that

has happened to me since.  All my

other romantic stories seem to be a

scrambled version of that first one.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT

Rob sits in his chair, a cord leading from the stereo to

headphones draped around his neck.  Behind him is the wall

of music.

ROB

Number two.  Penny Hardwick.  Penny

was great-looking, and her top five

recording artists were Carly Simon,

Carole King, James Taylor, Cat

Stevens, and Elton John...

He lets the needle down on the turntable next to him.

"Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon begins to play as

PRESENCE...

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL LAWN - FLASHBACK - MOS

... and continues as SOUNDTRACK.  PENNY, 16, is walking

across the grass toward us.  She's the clean, sporty, nice

wholesome girl-next-door.  She waves tp off-camera friends,

smiling a winning smile.

ROB (V.O.)

Everybody liked her.  She was nice.

Nice manners.  Nice grades.  Nice-

looking.

INT. PENNY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Penny and Rob sit on the edge of the bed, kissing.  Rob

moves his hand up toward the breast, but the hand then seems

to have a new idea, and dives south to follow the thigh into

Penny's skirt...

ROB (V.O.)

She was so nice, in fact, that she

wouldn't let me put my hand

underneath, or even on top of, her

bra.

... when he contacts skin, Penny rolls like a gymnast away

and off of the bed, out of frame.  Rob looks away balefully.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

"Nobody Does It Better" continues as Rob walks Penny to her

front door.  She is smiling, he seems distant.

ROB (V.O.)

Penny was nice, but I wasn't

interested in nice, just breasts,

and therefore she was no good to me.

And so I was finished with her.

She leans in to kiss him, and he shrugs her off.

ROB

What's the point?  It never goes

anywhere.

Without looking at her, Rob turns and walks down the street,

getting smaller.  Penny watches for a while.

CUT TO:

INT. "EL" TRAIN CAR - MORNING - PRESENT

Rob sways with the other commuters.

ROB

She cried, and I hated her for it,

because she made me feel bad.  I

started dating a girl who everybody

said would put out, and Penny went

with this asshole Chris Thompson

who told me that he had sex with

her after something like three

dates.  How had Penny gone from

a girl who wouldn't do anything to

a girl who would do everything?

A BUSINESSMAN looks up from his paper at Rob, then back down.

EXT. CLARK STREET - DAY

An old Chicago block of local merchants, on a busy street.

Rob makes his way down the street, jangling a set of keys

and talking to us.

ROB

My store's right up here.  It's

called The Record Exchange.  It's

carefully placed to attract the

bare minimum of window shoppers.

Rob arrives at a storefront, and begins unlocking a rusty

gate with two locks and then a beaten-down door.

ROB (CONT'D)

I get by because of the people who

make a special effort to shop here

on Saturday young men, always young

men, who spend a disproportionate

amount of their time looking for

deleted Smiths singles and "original

not rereleased" underline Frank

Zappa albums.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

In almost darkness.  More light might penetrate the windows

if there weren't so many record-release posters taped to

them.  A dusty narrow corridor clad in burlap and shag rug.

On the walls are bagged 45's you will never hear unless you

commit your life to the losing proposition of listening to

every noodling of Jah Wobble and Glen Glenn and other people

you've never heard of.

But as Rob opens the door, enters, and flips a switch

causing the fluorescents to sputter, we see in his eyes the

reverence and earnestness of a football coach gazing across

an empty field or a priest drawn at midnight to his empty

church.

ROB

The fetish properties are not

unlike porn.  I would feel guilty

taking their money if I wasn't,

kind of, well, one of them.

As he walks one of the two slim aisles toward the back, he

stops on a dime, steps back and pulls a CD from the sea and

replaces it almost the same position, but not quite --

meticulousness and pride in this gesture...

After a moment the door creaks open behind Rob, admitting

DICK, a nervous, forlorn but sweet and intelligent discophile

with long greasy black hair, a Sonic Youth T-shirt, a

monstrous pair of headphones, and a canvas record bag

emblazoned with a label logo.

ROB

'Morning, Dick.

DICK

Oh, hi.  Hi, Rob.

ROB

Good weekend?

DICK

Yeah, OK.  I found the first

Licorice Comfits album at Vintage

Vinyl.  The one on Testament of

Youth.  Never released here.

Japanese import only.

ROB

Great.

DICK

I'll tape it for you.

ROB

No, that's okay.  Really.

DICK

'Cause you like their second one,

you said, Pop, Girls. etc.  The one

with Cheryl Ladd on the cover.  You

didn't see the cover though.

ROB

Yeah, I haven't really absorbed

that one.

DICK

Well, I'll just make it for you.

ROB

(resigned)

Okay.

CUT TO:

.INT. RECORD STORE - LATER

Dick is behind the counter, Rob in the aisles with a

clipboard doing inventory.

ROB

(re: music)

What's this?

DICK

The new Belle and Sebastian.  Like

it?

The door flies open and BARRY, an acid-tongued post-punk

rock misanthrope without quite enough intelligence to

conceptualize his own rebellion, walks in.  His teeth are

clenched in air-guitar concentration and he's phonetically

cranking a Clash riff:

BARRY

BAA!  BA BA DANG!

Dick shrinks back from him instinctively.  He stops mid-step

and cocks his ear at the music playing in the store.  His

face adopts an exaggerated grimace.

BARRY (CONT'D)

Holy Shiite!  What the fuck's this?

DICK

It's the new --

ROB

It's the record we've been listening

to and enjoying, Barry.

Barry moves in on the stereo behind the counter, and Dick

gets out of his way.

BARRY

Well that's problematic because it

sucks ass.

He pops the CD out and frisbees it to Dick.

BARRY (CONT'D)

(re: the CD)

Yours, I assume...

Barry pulls a tape out of his jacket and jams it in.  "How

to Kill a Radio Consultant" by Public Enemy comes through at

through the red levels.

.	ROB

(over the blare)

TURN IT OFF, BARRY.

BARRY

IT WON'T GO ANY LOUDER.

Barry walks in rhythm toward the stockroom and disappears.

Rob goes behind the counter and stops the tape.  Barry's

head pops out of the stockroom.

BARRY (CONT'D)

What are you doing?

ROB

I don't want to hear Public Enemy

right now.

BARRY

Public Enemy!  All I'm trying to do

is cheer us up.  Go ahead and put

on some old sad bastard music see

if I care.

ROB

I don't want old sad bastard music

either.  I just want something I

can ignore.

BARRY

But it's my new tape.  My Monday

morning tape.  I made it last night

just for today.

ROB

Yeah, well it's fucking Monday

afternoon.  You should get out of

bed earlier.

BARRY

Don't you want to hear what's next?

ROB

What's next?

BARRY

Play it.

ROB

Say it.

BARRY

(sighs)

"Little Latin Lupe Lu."

Rob groans.

DICK

Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels?

BARRY

(defensive)

No.  The Righteous Brothers.

DICK

Oh well.  Nevermind.

Barry bristles and moves slowly in on Dick.

BARRY

What?

DICK

Nothing.

BARRY

No, not nothing.  What's wrong with

the Righteous Brothers?

DICK

Nothing.  I just prefer the other

one.

BARRY

Bullshit.

ROB

How can it be bullshit to state a

preference?

BARRY

Since when did this shop become a

fascist regime?

ROB

Since you brought that bullshit

tape in.

BARRY

(sarcastic)

Great.  That's the fun of working

in a record store.  Playing crappy

pap you don't want to listen to.  I

thought this tape was going to be,

you know, a conversation stimulator.

I was going to ask you for your top

five records to play on a Monday

morning and all that, and you just

had to ruin it.

ROB

We'll do it next Monday.

BARRY

Well what's the point in that?

From outside.  HEAR THE SOUND OF SKATEBOARD WHEELS CLACKING

AND SCRAPING, GETTING LOUDER.  Rob, Dick and Barry stop

fighting to listen, then each moves purposefully to a spot

in the store.  Dick to the register, Barry to the back, Rob

next to the door, as if bracing for a street fight.

The SOUND gets closer, then stops.  The door swings open to

admit VINCE and JUSTIN, two fifteen-year-old skate punks.

Vince's hair is post-apocolyptically hacked to different

lengths, Justin's in uniformly shaven with leopard spots

dyed browse.  Rob follows them, watching their every move.

Dick counters from his perch, getting another angle.  Barry

cracks his knuckles threateningly.  Vince and Justin do

their best browser impersonations.  Finally Justin plucks a

CD, and the two move to the counter.

ROB

Hey.  Didn't you steal that one

already?

DICK

Can I help you?

JUSTIN

Just this.

DICK

That'll be fifteen-twenty-seven.

Vince reaches into his deep pocket and pulls out a paper

cup, with piece of paper attached that says "Please help me.

I'm retarded."  He pours a mass of change and crumpled

singles onto the counter.  Dick begins counting it out.

VINCE

Isn't your name Dick?

DICK

Yes.

VINCE

That sucks.  Get it?

Dick cracks a sad smile for a second.  He bags the CD and

Vince and Justin are off.  Rob walks back through the stock

room door.

CUT TO:

.INT. RECORD STORE - STOCK ROOM - LATER

Rob is on his knees, opening boxes with a razor knife.  He

talks to us as he works.

ROB

I'm sick of the sight of this

place, to be honest.  Some days I'm

afraid --

Dick sticks his head in the door, looks at Rob, looks where

Rob is looking (camera), and retreats back through the door.

Rob continues.

ROB

I'm afraid I'll go berserk, rip the

Elvis Costello mobile from the

ceiling, throw the "Country Artists

Male A-K" rack out onto the streets,

go off to work in a Virgin Megastore

and never come back --

He hears the bell on the front door RING, and he stops and

listens, looks a bit worried.

CUSTOMER (O.S.)

I'm looking for a record for my

daughter.  For her birthday.  "I

Just Called To Say I Love You." Do

you have it?

BARRY (O.S.)

Oh yeah.  We got it.

Rob relaxes and goes back to work.

CUSTOMER (O.S.)

Great.  Can I have it then?

BARRY (O.S.)

No, you can't.

Rob deflates, shaking his head.

STORE FLOOR

Barry leans back, elbows up on the counter behind him,

talking to the CUSTOMER, a middle-aged graying man in a

raincoat.

CUSTOMER

Why not?

BARRY

Because it's sentimental tacky

crap, that's why not.  Do we look

like the kind of store that sells

"I Just Called To Say I Loved You?"

Go to the mall and stop wasting our

time.

CUSTOMER

What's your problem?  What did I...

Why are you --

BARRY

Do you even know your daughter?

There is no way she likes that song.

Or is she in a coma?

The Customer throws up his hands and starts out of the store.

CUSTOMER

Okay, okay, buddy.  I didn't know

it was Pick On the Middle-Aged

Square Guy Day.  My apologies.

I'll be on my way.

He steps out of the door.

BARRY

B'Bye!

Outside, anger catches up to the Customer.  He turns and

throws up a middle finger --

CUSTOMER

FUCK YOU!

-- and bolts.  Barry smiles and turns to see

ROB

standing in the doorway of the stock room.  He feigns

applause.

ROB

Nice, Barry.

BARRY

Rob.  Top five musical crimes

perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the

'80's and '90's.  Subquestion -- is

it in fact unfair to criticize a

formerly great artist for his

latter-day sins?  "Is it better to

burn out than to fade away?"

ROB

You just drove a fucking customer

away, Barry.

BARRY

We didn't even really have it.  I

happen to know for a fact that the

only Stevie Wonder single we have

is "Don't Drive Drunk." I was just

goofing on the straight, and it

never cost you a penny.

ROB

Not the point.

BARRY

Oh, so what's the point then?

ROB

I don't want you talking to our

customers like that again.

BARRY

"Our customers?" You think that Mr.

L.L. Bean out there is going to be

a regular?

Rob's face begins to redden with anger.

ROB

Barry, I'm fucking broke!  I know

we used to fuck with anyone who

asked for anything we didn't like,

but it's gotta stop.

BARRY

Bullshit.  The guy was going to buy

one record -- which we didn't even

have -- and leave and never come

back again anyway.  Why not have a

little fun?  Big fucking deal.

ROB

What did he ever do to you?

BARRY

He offended me with his terrible

taste.

ROB

It wasn't even his terrible taste.

It was his daughter's.

BARRY

Oh, now you're defending that

motherfucker?  You're going soft in

your old age, Rob.  There was a

time when you would have chased him

out of the store and up the street.

Now all of a sudden I'm offending

your golf buddy.

(sarcastic)

You're right, Rob.  I am so sorry.

How are we ever going to make

enough money to get you and Laura

into the country club?

Rob is red and seething.

BARRY (CONT'D)

And by the way, I tell you this for

your own good: That's the worst

sweater I've ever seen.  I have

never seen a sweater that bad worn

by anyone I'm on speaking terms

with.  It's a disgrace to the human

race.

Rob springs on Barry, grabbing him by the lapels and jerking

him up against the wall.  Rob is so mad he can't say anything.

DICK

Hey, guys... Hey.

Rob runs out of steam and drops Barry, who backpedals fast.

BARRY

(extremely shaken)

What are you, some kind of fucking

maniac?  If this jacket's torn

you're gonna pay big.

Barry stomps out of the store.  Rob turns and goes back to

the stockroom, and sits on the stepladder.  Dick appears in

the doorway, terrified.

DICK

Are you all right?

ROB

Yeah.  I'm sorry... Look Dick,

Laura and I broke up.  She's gone.

And if we ever see Barry again

maybe you can tell him that.

.	DICK

'Course I will, Rob.  No problem.

No problem at all.  I'll tell him

next time I see him.

Rob nods.  Dick sets out into the uncharted conversational

territory of interpersonal relationships.

DICK (CONT'D)

I've ah... got some other stuff to

tell him anyway, so it's no problem.

I'll just tell him about, you know,

Laura, when I tell him the other

stuff.

ROB

Fine.

DICK

I'll start with your news before I

tell him mine, obviously.  Mine

isn't much, really, just about

Marie LaSalle

(flashes CD of pretty woman)

playing at Lounge Ax tonight.  I

like her, you know, she's kind of

Sheryl Crowish... but, you know,

good.  So I'll tell him before that.

Good news and bad news kind of thing.

Dick laughs nervously.

DICK (CONT'D)

Or rather, bad news and good news,

because he likes this person

playing tonight.  I mean, he liked

Laura too, I didn't mean that.  And

he likes you.  It's just that --

ROB

I understand, Dick.

DICK

Sure.  'Course.  Rob, look.  Do you

want to... talk about it, that kind

of thing?

Rob looks up at Dick, who is so nervous that his brow is wet.

ROB

No.  Thanks though, Dick.

Dick sighs with relief, and smiles his way out of the stock

room.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

Number three in the top five break-

ups was Charlie Nicholson, sophomore

year of college.  Some people never

got over 'Nam, or the night their

band opened for Nirvana.  I guess I

never really got over Charlie.

CUT TO:

EXT. COLLEGE QUAD - DAY - FLASHBACK

About twenty feet away we see a tall, thin beauty, bleach-

blonde hair cropped short in darling '80's new-wave asymmetry.

She is speaking animatedly to a PAMPHLETEER, driving her

points home with a forefinger.

ROB (V.O.)

She looked different.  Dramatic.

Exotic.  She talked a lot, about

remarkably interesting things like

music, books, film, and politics...

INT. CAFE - DAY

A younger Rob sits amongst a group of STUDENTS who are

engaged in a heated conversation.  He is smiling, mouth

closed, just happy to be there.  Charlie sitting next to

him, tousles his hair as she talks incessantly.

ROB (V.O.)

(over her talking)

...so we didn't have those terrible,

strained sentences, that seemed to

characterized most of my

relationships.  And she liked me.

She liked me.  She liked me.

Charlie gives Rob a quick kiss and keeps talking...

EXT. STREET - AFTERNOON

Rob and Charlie walk arm in arm, Rob in cool clothes and

sunglasses trying to look cool, Charlie making a point about

something.

Rob checks out how cool he looks with her as they walk by a

store window REFLECTION.

ROB (V.O.)

We went out for two years, and for

every single minute I felt as

though I was standing on a

dangerously narrow ledge.  I

couldn't get comfortable, couldn't

ever stretch out and relax.  Why

would a girl -- no, a woman -- like

Charlie go out with someone who

only a few years ago sewed a Foghat

patch on his jacket?  I felt like

all those people who suddenly

shaved their heads and said they'd

always been punks.  I felt like a

fraud.  And I was depressed by the

lack of flamboyance in my wardrobe...

INT. CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - DAY

The fabulous sophomore design student's studio apartment:

White wood floor, white walls, overvarnished door, Doisneaux

print on the wall, futon on the floor.  Rob lies back on his

elbows, watching Charlie in uncomfortable, worried awe.  She

stands, her back to him, wearing only her underwear and

pulling on a T-shirt -- a heartbreaking image to look back on.

ROB (V.O.)

...I worried about my abilities as

a lover.  I was intimidated by the

other men in her design department,

and became convinced that she was

going to leave me for one of them.

Charlie turns around and looks at Rob with naked ambivalence.

ROB (V.O.)

She left me for one of them.  The

dreaded Marco.

EXT. CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

It is RAINING like crazy, and Rob is shouting up at a lit

window, maniacally gesturing.  The curtains part and

Charlie's figure appears, clad only in a sheet.  Next to her

is a tall, built, handsome man, MARCO, also in a sheet.

Eventually he falls to his knees with a splash and buries

his head in his hands.  The light goes out.

ROB (V.O.)

And I lost it.  I lost it all.

Dignity, faith, fifteen pounds...

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob wandering through the rain.

ROB (V.O.)

Any small idea of personal identity

that I had acquired up to that point.

INT. SOME RECORD STORE - DAY

A younger and catatonic Rob listlessly sorts through a stack

of records.

ROB (V.O.)

I came to three months later, and

to my surprise had flunked out of

school and started working in a

record store.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob stands in front of his wall of music, shifting LPs

around between the shelves and piles on the floor as he

talks to us.

ROB

What I really learned from the

Charlie Debacle is that you gotta

punch your weight.  Charlie was out

of my Class: too pretty, too smart,

too witty, too much.  What am I?

Average.  A middleweight.  Not the

smartest guy in the world, but

certainly not the dumbest.  I've

read books like The Unbearable

Lightness of Being, Angela's Ashes,

and Love in the Time of Cholera,

and understood them, I think --

they're about girls, right? -- just

kidding -- but I don't like them

very much.  My all time top five

favorite books are Johnny Cash's

autobiography, Snow Crash by Neil

Stevenson, Zen and the Art of

Motorcycle Maintenance, The Trouser

Press Guides to Rock, and, I don't

know, probably something by Kurt

Vonnegut.  I look through the New

Yorker when my neighbor's done with

it, and I'm not averse to going

down to the Fine Arts to watch

subtitles films, although on the

whole I prefer American films.

Top five being Blade Runner, Cool

Hand Luke, the first two Godfathers

which we'll count as one, Taxi

Driver, and The Shining.  I'm okay

looking, average height, not

skinny, not fat.  My genius, if I

can call it that, is to combine a

whole load of averageness into one

compact frame.  You might say there

were millions like me, but there

aren't, really: Alot of guys have

impeccable music taste but don't

read, alot of guys read but are

really fat, alot of guys are

sympathetic to women but have

stupid beards, alot of guys have a

Woody Allen sense of humor but look

like Woody Allen.  Some drink too

much, some drive like assholes,

some get into fights, or show off

money, or do drugs.  I don't do any

of these things, really.  If I do

okay with women it's not because of

the virtues I have, but because of

the ugly flaws I don't have... So.

Charlie and I didn't match.  After

her I was determined to never get

out of my league again.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob presses play on the answering machine.  A pleasant,

older female voice is heard.  It's JANET, Laura's mother.

JANET

(on machine)

Hello, you two.  Laura, it's your

mother.  Your father's angina is a

little rough today and I thought

he'd like to talk to you.  No big

deal.  I love you two.  Bye.

Beep.

LIZ

(on machine)

Rob, it's Liz.  Just calling to

see, well, if you're okay.  Give me

a ring.  I'm not taking sides.  Yet.

Lot's of love.  Bye.

He pulls an LP from a shelf, puts it on the turntable and

sits back in his chair.

EXT. LAKE MICHIGAN WATERFRONT - MOS - THE PAST

The MUSIC becomes SOUNDTRACK to the following scenes.  Rob

and SARAH, a thin, modestly attractive young woman, SARAH,

walk and talk.  They seem to be emphatically complaining

together.

ROB (V.O.)

Charlie and I didn't match.  Marco

and Charlie matched.  Me and Sarah,

number four on the all time break-

ups list, matched.  She wore more

or less the same clothes as mine,

had an acceptable working knowledge

of music, and she had been dumped

by some asshole named Michael.  He

was her moment, Charlie was mine.

Sarah had sworn off men.  I had

sworn off women.  It made sense to

pool our loathing of the opposite

sex, swear them off together, and

get to share a bed with someone at

the same time.

INT. SARAH'S APARTMENT - MOS - NIGHT

Rob and SARAH sit up in bed, staring at the television...

ROB (V.O.)

We were frightened of being left

alone for the rest of our lives.

Only people of a certain disposition

are frightened of being alone for

the rest of their lives at twenty-

six.  We were of that disposition.

Everything seemed much later than

it was.

INT. SARAH'S KITCHEN - MOS - DAY ROB'S POV

of Sarah, sitting across the table, mid-confession.

ROB (V.O.)

When she told me that she met

someone else it made no sense.  Her

meeting someone else was contrary

to the whole spirit of our

arrangement.  All we really had in

common was that we were dumped by

people, and that we were against

dumping.  We were violently anti-

dump.  So how come I got dumped?

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

The MUSIC becomes PRESENCE again, and Rob takes the needle

off the record.

ROB

You run the risk of losing anyone

who is worth spending time with.

But I didn't know that at the time.

All I saw was that I'd moved down a

division and that it still hadn't

worked out, and this seemed cause

for a great deal of misery and

self-pity.  And that's when Laura

came along.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is surrounded by stacks of records on the floor.  He

looks to camera.

ROB

I'm reorganizing my records tonight.

It's something I do in times of

emotional distress.  When Laura was

here I had them in alphabetical

order, before that, chronologically.

Tonight, though, I'm trying to put

them in the order in which I bought

them.  That way I can write my own

autobiography without picking up a

pen.  Pull them all off the shelves,

look for Revolver and go from there.

I'll be able to see how I got from

Deep Purple to The Soft Boys in

twenty-five moves.  What I really

like about my new system is that it

makes me more complicated than I am.

To find anything you have to be me,

or at the very least a doctor in

Rob-ology.  If you wanna find

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac you have

to know that I bought it for

someone in the fall of 1983 and

then didn't give it to them for

personal reasons.  But you don't

know any of that, do you?  You

would have to ask me to --

The phone rings again.  Rob picks it up.

ROB (CONT'D)

Yeah?

MOM

Hi, Rob.  It's your mother.

Rob deflates a bit.

ROB

Hi, Mom.

MOM

Everything all right?

ROB

Great.  Super-fantastic.

MOM

How's the store?

ROB

So so.  Up and down.

MOM

Your lucky Laura's doing so well.

If it wasn't for her, I don't think

either of us would ever sleep...

Rob holds his lips together with thumb and forefinger, but

succumbs --

ROB

She left.  She's gone.

MOM

What do you mean?  Where did she go?

ROB

How would I know?  Gone.  Girlfriend.

Leave.  Not say where gone.  Laura

move out.

MOM

Well call her mother.

ROB

She just called.  She doesn't even

know.  It's probably the last time

I'll ever hear her voice.  That's

weird, isn't it?  You spend

Christmas at somebody's house, you

know, and you worry about their

operations and you see them in

their bathrobe, and... I dunno...

Silence.

ROB (CONT'D)

There'll be another mom and another

Christmas.  Right?

Silence... More silence.

ROB (CONT'D)

Hello?  Anybody there?

The sound of SOFT CRYING

ROB (CONT'D)

I'm all right, if that's what's

upsetting you.

MOM

You know that's not what's upsetting

me.

ROB

Well it fucking should be, shouldn't

it?

MOM

I knew this would happen.  What are

you going to do Rob?

ROB

I'm going to drink this bottle of

wine watch TV and go to bed.  Then

tomorrow I'll get up and go to work.

MOM

And after that?

ROB

Meet a nice girl and have children.

I promise the next time we talk

I'll have it all sorted out.

MOM

I knew this was going to happen.

ROB

Then what are you getting so upset

about?

MOM

What did Laura say?  Do you know

why she left?

ROB

It's got nothing to do with

marriage, if that's what you're

getting at.

MOM

So you say.  I'd like to hear her

side of it.

ROB

Mom!  For the last fucking time,

I'm telling you Laura didn't want

to get married!  She is not that

kind of girl!  To use a phrase.

That's not what happens now.

MOM

Well I don't know what happens now,

apart from you meet someone, you

move in, she goes.  You meet

someone, you move in, she goes.

Silence.  Rob busted.

ROB

Shut up, Mom.

Rob hangs up the phone.  He fills up his glass again, takes

a swig, and slumps into a chair.  If there was any wind left

in Rob, it just got knocked out.  After a moment, he gets to

his feet, grabs his jacket and heads out the door.

CUT TO:

EXT. LOUNGE AX CLUB - LINCOLN AVE. - NIGHT

Rob comes down the street and gets in the short line to

enter the club.  From inside he hears a GUITAR, playing a

tune that becomes familiar not only to Rob, but to us.  When

a strong, lilting female VOICE begins to sing, we hear what

it is: "Baby I Love Your Way," by Peter Frampton.

Rob smiles at first, but begins to darken as the verse

continues.  He steps out of line and leans against the

outside wall, listening.  Is he beginning to cry?  Yes, he

is...

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

ROB

Peter.  Frampton.  That perm! "Show

Me the Way"!  A phenomenon based on

a live album that was actually

recorded in a studio!  What is

happening?  I am getting misty,

choked up at a song that I had the

good sense at twelve to realize was

so saccharine and stupid as to be

inarticulatable, until Michael Bolton,

that is.

CUT BACK TO:

EXT. LOUNGE AX CLUB - LINCOLN AVE.

He looks around self-consciously, and paces a bit, deciding

whether or not to stay.  He takes a deep breath, and heads

in the door.

INT. LOUNGE AX - NIGHT

As Rob enters he looks to the stage, where MARIE LASALLE is

standing alone with her acoustic guitar, heading toward the

song's finish.  Rob's expression begins to shift from the

melancholy to something else altogether.  Marie is beautiful,

and Marie has touched his heart.  Rob navigates toward her

though the small crowd as if pulled by something unseen.  He

addresses us over his shoulder.

ROB

Sentimental music makes you

nostalgic and hopeful at the same

time.  Marie's the hopeful part.

Laura's the nostalgia part.  These

things happen.  They happen to men,

at any rate.  This is why I

shouldn't be listening to pop music.

As he gets closer to the stage --

DICK

ROB!

Rob looks over to see Dick sitting with Barry, a few feet

away.  He shakes it off and sits with them, extending a

meaningful hand to Barry, who takes it.  They turn back to

the stage as Marie finishes the song.

ROB

I always hated this song.

DICK

Yeah.

BARRY

Yeah.

ROB

But now I kind of like it.

Dick and Barry nod, then keep watching.  All three of them

are in their own private fantasies with Marie.

DICK

She shouldn't done it on "The

Number Four With a Smile."

BARRY

Isn't her album called "Number Four

With A Smile?"

DICK

That's what I said.

BARRY

No, no, no, you said "The Number

Four With a Smile," and there's no

"The" at the front of the title of

the album.

DICK

It's a reference to a Chinese meal

in Toronto and I think that there

is a "The."  But I could be wrong.

BARRY

You can be and are wrong.

They drop it, so that their eyes can drift back to Marie.

BARRY

I wanna date a musician...

ROB

(nods in agreement)

I wanna live with a musician.

She'd write songs at home, ask me

what she thought of them, maybe

even include one of our private

jokes in the liner notes.

BARRY

...Maybe a picture of me in the

liner notes...

DICK

Just in the background somewhere.

MARIE

as the song ends, and she smiles out over the room.  The

audience applauds.

MARIE

Thanks, you guys, I know I'm not

supposed to like that song, but I

do.  I'm gonna take a break for a

second.  Anybody wants to buy one

of my tapes, they're five bucks up

here.  One of my other personalities

will be selling them.

ROB, DICK, AND BARRY

BARRY

Let's go get one.

ROB

Let's not.

DICK

I want a tape.

Barry and Dick stand and begin to move off...

ROB

I don't need to go up there right

now.

... and they're gone.  After a beat, Rob gets up and follows

them.

FOOT OF THE STAGE

Dick and Barry wait nervously to buy a tape, Rob just behind

them.  Marie processes sales with polite monosyllables,

until the three get up front.

MARIE

Enjoying yourselves?

They dart eyes to each other, then nod.

MARIE (CONT'D)

Good.  'Cause I'm enjoying myself.

ROB

Good.

Rob hands her a ten and she roots around in a duffel bag for

change...

ROB (CONT'D)

So you live in Chicago now?

MARIE

Yup.  Not far from here, actually.

BARRY

You like it?

MARIE

It's okay.  Hey.  You guys might be

the sort to know.  Are there any

good record stores around here or

do I have to go downtown?

Barry and Dick do not try to control themselves.  They point

to Rob.

DICK

He's got one!

BARRY

On Clark Street!

DICK

A couple blocks!  About six!

BARRY

We work there!

DICK

You'd love it!

Marie laughs.

MARIE

What do you sell?

BARRY

A little of anything that matters.

Rock, soul, R&B, punk rock, hip-

hop, ska, new wave...

MARIE

Sounds great.

The line behind them is moving in, and Marie smiles at them

and turns to someone else.  They scurry back toward their

table.

ROB

What did you tell her about the

shop for?

BARRY

I didn't know it was classified

information.  I mean, I know we

don't have any customers, but I

thought that was a bad thing, not,

like, a business strategy.

Rob looks over Barry at Marie.  She catches his eye as she

looks over the room.  His eyes shoot to the floor.

CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - STOCK ROOM - LATER

Rob is going through a huge stack of used CD's, sorting them

off into different bins, bouncing his head absently to the

music -- the same song of Marie's that Rob had on when Laura

called last night.

BARRY (O.S.)

ROB!  PHONE!

Rob reaches over and hits the SPEAKER button on the phone,

still in the groove of sorting.

ROB

Rob here.

LIZ (O.S.)

Hey.  It's Liz.

ROB

What's happenin'.

LIZ

You called this morning?

ROB

Yeah.  I just wanted to thank you

for that message last night.  It

made me feel like...like less of an

asshole.

LIZ

How're you holding up?

ROB

Actually, I'm fine.  I'm great.

Last night I got to thinking, "you

know what?  Maybe it is time to

move on.  Maybe we're just not

right for each other.  Or maybe we are.

But time will tell and at this

point I'm going to be fine with

whatever's meant to be." You know?

LIZ

Yeah.  Like I said, I don't want to

take sides.  And I like Laura with

you.  She's more fun, more open.

You guys are good together.  I just

wish you two could, I don't know.

I don't think much of this Ian

guy --

-- Dick bursts in, huge-faced --

DICK

Rob.

ROB

Liz, hold on a second --

(turns to Dick)

What?

DICK

Marie LaSalle is in the store!

Here, she's here, and now!

Rob freezes, he and Dick turn to the speaker, which cranks

Marie's voice.  Rob goes to the phone and picks up the

handset.

ROB

Liz, can you hold for a second?

He hits hold.

ROB

(to Dick)

I'll be out there!  Go!

(picks up the phone)

Hey, Liz, I gotta go... Tomorrow

night?  Great.  Green Mill.  Fine.

Seven?  Done.  Thanks.  Right.  Bye.

He hangs up fast, spins around to look in a cracked one-

foot-square cracked mirror bearing the logo of Aerosmith

that is mounted on the wall, and moves out into the

FRONT ROOM

and up the aisle fast toward the stereo where he turns

Marie's music off.  He takes a deep breath and looks up,

meeting her eyes.

ROB (CONT'D)

Oh.  Hi.

Marie smiles.

MARIE

(re: music)

Don't you like that?

ROB

No, no, I love, it's just, thinking

you're, you must be so sick of it...

Well.

He reaches back and puts it back on.  He cracks his face

into a smile, then walks fast back to the stock room door.

Marie watches him go.

STOCK ROOM

where as soon as he crosses the threshold his fist clench

and he grimaces:

ROB (CONT'D)

WHAT FUCKING IAN GUY?!!

Dick comes in --

DICK

Rob --!

ROB

-- FUCK OFF!

Dick backs out fast.  Rob leans on a wall.  Barry enters --

BARRY

We're only on the fucking list for

Marie's gig at the Pulaski Pub,

that's all!  All three of us.

ROB

That's fucking great, Barry.  We

can spend fifteen bucks on a cab to

save five each.  Fantastic, Barry!

BARRY

We can take your car.

ROB

It's not my car, now is it?  It's

Laura's car, and thus Laura has it.

So it's an ass-bumping double-

transferring bus ride through

bumblefuck or a fat wad on a cab.

Wow.  Fucking great.

Barry sighs, throws up his hands and heads out the door.

BARRY

Jaggoff...

Barry exits.  Rob seems to be having trouble staying on his

feet.

ROB

Who the fuck is Ian?!

CUT TO:

INT. ROB'S BUILDING'S LOBBY - NIGHT

Rob enters and walks to the mail table, looking like shit.

He starts sifting through envelopes for his.

ROB

Laura doesn't know anybody called

Ian.  There's no Ian at her office.

She has no friends named Ian.  She

has never met anyone called Ian in

her whole life.  Although there may

have been one in college -- but I

am almost certain that since 1989

she has lived in an Ian-less

universe.

He slows... and stops.  His face gets a little paler as he

lifts a letter up to his face.

CLOSE-UP: LETTER

A cable service bill to a Mr. I. Raymond.

ROB

as he looks at it, divining.

ROB

"I. Raymond." Ray. "I." IAN.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

.	ROB

Mr. I Raymond. "Ray" to his friends,

and, more importantly, to his

neighbors.  The guy who up until

about six weeks ago lived upstairs.

I knew it was him the moment I saw

the letter.  I start to remember

things now: His stupid clothing,

his music -- Latin, Bulgarian,

whatever fucking world music was

trendy that week--stupid laugh,

awful cooking smells.  I can't

remember anything good about him at

all.  I never liked him much then,

and I fucking hate him now... I

manage to block out the worst, most

painful, most disturbing memory of

him until I go to bed.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Darkness.  We move silently through the rooms, and enter the

bedroom... closer to the bed, we see Rob on his back, sheets

held clenched up to his chin.  He stares at the ceiling,

sadly.

JUMP CUT

to almost the same shot, but it's Rob and Laura in the bed,

semi-tangled.  Laura has a book in her lap.  A CREAKING is

heard.  Laura's eyes go to the ceiling, and Rob sits up at

attention.  They look up at the light fixture, which shakes

a little faster, with the rhythm of the creaking.  Someone

is definitely having sex upstairs, and they are going for it.

ROB

Jeez.  He goes on long enough.

LAURA

I should be so lucky.

They turn to each other and laugh.

JUMP CUT BACK

to Rob lying still in bed, staring at the ceiling.

ROB

You are as abandoned and as noisy

as any character in a porn film,

Laura.  You are Ian's plaything,

responding to his touch with

shrieks of orgasmic delight.

No woman in the history of the

world is having better sex than the

sex you are having with Ian in my

head.

ROB'S IAN-LAURA SEX NIGHTMARE - QUICK CUTS

Ian mercilessly savages Laura from behind, below, and above,

champagne showers, toe-sucking, and animal screams --

BACK TO ROB IN BED,

imploding with disgust and sorrow.  Tears run down his

cheeks into his ears.

ROB

Number five -- Jackie Allen.  My

break up with Jackie Allen had no

effect on my life whatsoever.  I

just slotted her in to bump you out

of position, Laura.  Yes, you do in

fact make it into the top five.

Welcome.  And just to remind you,

the list is in chronological order,

not in the order of pain and

suffering.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Dick and Barry are stocking the racks.  Rob stands at the

register, rocking back and forth sort of like an idiot, to

"Always and Forever" by the Commodores.  He is a mess.

FEMALE VOICE

Hey.

Rob looks up to see a nineteen or twenty-year-old GIRL

standing in front of him.

GIRL

Do you have soul?

Rob smiles bitterly at her, clearly having a different

meaning in mind.

ROB

That all depends.

She kind of backs away and goes back to browsing.  The phone

rings and Rob picks it up.

.	ROB (CONT'D)

Record Exchange... How many

records... Right, well if you could

bring them -- okay, well, where do

you live?  Right... how about now?

I can come right over...

(Rob scribbles)

Okay.

He hangs up and grabs his jacket.  Dick emerges from the back.

ROB (CONT'D)

(to Dick)

Some lady's got some singles to

sell.  I'll be back in a half-hour.

Rob walks out.

EXT./INT. FANCY LINCOLN PARK TOWNHOUSE - DAY

Rob mounts the stairs and rings the doorbell.  The door

opens, revealing a too-tan WOMAN in her late forties, in

designer jeans and a T-shirt bearing a rhinestone peace sign.

She says nothing.

ROB

Hi.  You called about the records?

She turns and walks into the house, leaving the door open

for him.  He follows her in and through a fabulous first

floor, packed with big-bucks bourgeois: Rugs, art, and

antiques:

She ushers Rob into a large study, and turns the light on.

He misses a breath.  The walls are lined with mahogany cases

custom-built for CDs, albums, epicurean stereo components, a

couple priceless vintage guitars -- every one of the

thousands of items bear a little numbered sticker, like a

museum.  She points to several boxes on the floor, full of

hundreds of singles.

WOMAN

Those.

Rob steps into the room like an Undeserving, and carefully

drops to his knees to examine the singles, each pristine in

a plastic sleeve: the original God Save the Queen by the Sex

Pistols, original Otis Reddings, Elvis Presleys, James

Browns, Jerry Lee Lewises, Beatles... on and on.  The mother

lode.  Rob is doing the best to control the onset of

hyperventilation.  He dares a glance over his shoulder to

her to see if this is a joke.

WOMAN (CONT'D)

What do you think?

ROB

It's the best collection I've ever

seen.

WOMAN

Give me fifty bucks and they're all

yours.

Rob's face goes funny.  He looks around for a hidden camera.

ROB

These are worth at least, I don't

know --

WOMAN

I know what they're worth.  Give me

fifty and get them out.

ROB

But you must have --

WOMAN

I must have nothing.  Their my

husband's.

ROB

And you must not be getting along

too well right now, huh?

WOMAN

He's in Jamaica with a twenty-

three-year-old.  A friend of my

daughter's.  He had the fucking

nerve to call me and ask me to

borrow some money and I told him to

fuck off, so he asked me to sell

his singles collection and send him

a check for whatever I go, minus a

ten percent commission.  Which

reminds me.  Can you make sure you

give me a five?  I want to frame it

and put it on the wall.

ROB

It must have taken him a long time

to get them together.

WOMAN

Years.  This collection is as close

as he's ever come to an achievement.

Rob looks back at the records but avoids the trance.

ROB

Look.  Can I pay you properly?  You

don't have to tell him what you got.

Send him forty-five bucks and blow

the rest.  Give it to charity.  Or

something.

WOMAN

That wasn't part of the deal.  I

want to be poisonous but fair.

ROB

(looking back at the records)

Look... I... I'm sorry.  I don't

want to be any part of this.

WOMAN

Suit yourself.  There are plenty of

others who will.

ROB

That's why I'm trying to compromise.

What about fifteen-hundred?  They're

worth five times that.

WOMAN

Sixty.

ROB

Thirteen hundred.

WOMAN

Seventy-five.

ROB

Eleven-hundred.  That's my lowest

offer.

WOMAN

And I won't take a penny over ninety.

They start smiling at each other.

WOMAN (CONT'D)

With eleven hundred he could come

home, and that's the last thing I

want.

ROB

I'm sorry but I think you better

talk to someone else.

WOMAN

Fine.

Rob half stands, then drops again for one last lingering look.

ROB

Can I buy this Otis Redding single

off you?

WOMAN

Sure.  Ten cents.

ROB

Oh, come on!  Let me give you ten

dollars for this, and you can give

the rest away for all I care.

WOMAN

Okay.  Because you took the trouble

to come up here.  And because

you've got principles.  But that's

it.  I'm not selling them to you

one by one.

CUT TO:

EXT. FANCY LINCOLN PARK TOWNHOUSE - DAY

Rob comes down the stairs holding his single, and walks down

the street talking to camera.

ROB

How come I end up siding with the

bad guy, the man who ran off to

Jamaica with some nymphette?  I

just got left for someone else, so

why can't I bring myself to feel

whatever it is his wife is feeling?

All I can see is that guy's face

when he gets that pathetic check in

the mail for those records, and I

can't help but feel desperately,

painfully sorry for him.

CUT TO:

INT. GREEN MILL - NIGHT

The bar where Al Capone used to party, and it looks about

the same: colored lightbulbs, shadowboxes, deep plush booths

and a stage for jazz.  Rob slumps back in a booth, stirring

a drink with his finger.  After a beat, we hear a DOOR SLAM

off camera, and Rob looks up with a bit of fear.

Heavy footsteps get louder and closer, until a shadow

shrouds Rob -- LIZ stands in front of him.

LIZ

MOTHERFUCKER.

She is enormous, and she is mad as hell.  Rob reflexively

shrinks.

ROB

What's the -- hey, Liz --

LIZ

-- No, no, no, don't even.  I

talked to Laura, Rob.  I talked to

her and she gave me a little

background.  And you're a fucking

ASSHOLE.

She turns and stomps toward the door.  Rob gets up and

follows.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob comes out of the club and follows Liz.  She hears him

and turns on him, punctuating with a finger in his chest.

LIZ

To think I sympathized with you for

two seconds!  Poor Rob!  Laura left

him out of nowhere for the schmuck

upstairs.  You let me believe that!

ROB

It's true!

LIZ

Rob!  Two years ago you got Laura

pregnant; you then proceeded to

cheat on her!  You borrowed money

from her and never paid a dime back!

And then, just a few weeks ago, you

told her you were unhappy with her

and were "kind of looking around

for somebody else!"

ROB

Well she --

She turns again and keeps walking, holding a defiant middle

finger over her shoulder as she fades down the street.

INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT

Rob sits, rocking slightly with the movement of the train.

He stares at an OLD COUPLE who do not speak to each other.

ROB

She's right, of course.  I am a

fucking asshole.  I did and said

those things.  But before you

judge, although you've probably

already done so, go off for a

minute and write down the top five

worst things that you have done to

your partner, even if -- especially

if -- your partner doesn't know

about them.  Don't dress things up

or try to explain them.  Just write

them down in the plainest language

possible...

A LONG BEAT, even five or ten seconds.

ROB (CONT'D)

Pencils down.  Okay, so who's the

asshole now?

CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Saturday.  For the first time we see the place kind of busy.

Rob watches the room.  Barry is toward the back, talking to

a CUSTOMER. "Cruel to Be Kind" by Nick Lowe plays.

BARRY

It's almost impossible to find,

especially on CD.  Yet another

cruel trick on all of the dumbasses

who got rid of their turntables.

But every other Echo and the

Bunnymen album --

CUSTOMER

I have all of the others.

BARRY

Oh really.  Well what about the

first Jesus and Mary Chain?

CUSTOMER

They always seemed...

BARRY

They always seemed what?  They

always seemed really great, is what

they always seemed.  They picked up

where your precious Echo left off,

and you're sitting here complaining

about no more Echo albums.  I can't

believe that you don't own that

record.  That's insane.

He plucks it from the rack, and sticks it in the Customer's

hand, who regards it with a bit a of shame.

CUSTOMER

Well what about the new Echo --

BARRY

Do not get ahead of yourself.

DICK

is listening to a female customer, but he doesn't hear her

voice.

CUSTOMER - DICK'S POV

The army bag with a red cross on it.  The ring-of-ivy tattoo

around the wrist.  The monkey boots.  The eye shadow.

DICK

thinking, calculating...

DICK

The interesting thing about Green

Day is that so much of their music

is in truth directly influenced by,

in my opinion, two bands.

FEMALE CUSTOMER

The Clash.

DICK

Correct.  The Clash.  But also the

Stranglers.

FEMALE CUSTOMER

Who?

DICK

I think you would love the

Stranglers...

Dick pulls a Stranglers record and puts it on the stereo.

Her brow furrows, and then she smiles.

FEMALE CUSTOMER

This sounds great.

Dick smiles humbly.  Two people in the store turn and

approach.

CUSTOMER

Is this the new Green Day?

BARRY still talking to his Customer, who now has several

CD's in his hand.  He looks at Barry with a mixture of hate

and adoration.

BARRY

That is perverse.  Do not tell

anyone you don't own fucking Blonde

on Blonde.  What about Television?

CUSTOMER

I have a television.

BARRY

NO--!

Barry adds more records to the Customer's stack.

A FEW MINUTES LATER - ROB AND DICK

stand behind the counter.  Rob holds a CD in his hand, and

surveys the roaming customers with a semi-serious air of

authority.

ROB

I will now sell four copies of Cats

and Dogs by the Royal Trux.

DICK

Do it.  Do it.

Rob pops the CD in and it begins to play... He stands there

with his arms folded, waiting.  After a moment, a Customer

approaches.

CUSTOMER

(re: music)

What is this?

ROB

It's the Royal Trux.

.	CUSTOMER

It's great.

ROB

I know.

ROB'S POV

of the room.  Something has caught his eye: a cropped head

with a leopard skin pattern surfaces and disappears, like

Nessie.

Rob's face gets hot and mad.  He jumps out from behind the

counter.

ROB (CONT'D)

Dick, ring the man up...

He moves like a cat through the crowd.  Justin sees him

coming and counters around the middle island and heads for

the door.  Vince appears next to him, fiddling with his belt.

He sees Rob now, and he and Justin bolt for the door.  Rob

doubles back.

ROB (CONT'D)

DICK!  THE DOOR!

Dick sees Vince and Justin too late.  Rob is right behind

them and as they get out the door, he reaches... and comes

up with the back half of a skateboard.

EXT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob emerges behind them, Vince's skateboard in hand.  They

have enough distance to bolt, but they can't leave that

board behind.

ROB

Okay, fuckos.  How much is this

deck worth to you, and how many

CD's did you rip off?  Can you do

the math?

Justin pulls two CD's out and slides them over to Rob.

ROB (CONT'D)

(to Vince)

And what about you, dork?

Vince pulls about six, and puts them down in a neutral spot.

Rob picks all of them up and starts looking through them.

Dicks pokes his head out of the door.

ROB (CONT'D)

Dick, call the police, please.

Vince and Justin look at each other.

ROB (CONT'D)

(looking through the CD's)

Eno import.  Sigue Sigue Sputnik.

Break beats.  Serge Gainsbourg.

Ryuchi Sakamoto, Syd Barrett...

What's going on here?  Are you guys

stealing for other people now?

VINCE

Naw.  Those are for us.

ROB

Oh really.  You two are slamming to

Nico now?

JUSTIN

You're, like, so bigoted to look at

us and, like, think you know what

we listen to.

VINCE

You got the CD's so can I have my

board back?

ROB

I think you have more.

VINCE

Well we don't.

ROB

I can't frisk you but the cops can.

Justin reaches down again into his baggy shorts and comes up

with a tattered old book, "How To Make A Record."  He tosses

it over.

ROB (CONT'D)

Jesus.  That thing's been in the

bargain bin for six months!  Was it

just your criminal nature or what?

Hell, I would've given it to you

for free.

VINCE

No, we...

JUSTIN

We don't know how it works.  Nobody

even knows, so we wanted to check

it out in that mag.

Rob snorts.

JUSTIN

Like, do you know how to actually

make a CD?

Rob can't resist edifying them -- the curse of the

underappreciated expert.

ROB

Uh, yes I, like, do... It's simple.

You make the tracks -- recording

studio -- deliver them to the

pressing plant where a master is

cut, the master is then dubbed to

submasters, which are the "mothers,"

as their called, for each press in

the plant.  You press the CD's or

records, put in your cover art, and

that's it.

VINCE

Records are those big round black

things, right?

ROB

Fuck off.

Rob turns to go back in the store.

VINCE

Hey, can I have my board?

Rob drops it and enters the store.

CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - NIGHT - QUICK CUTS:

Barry emerges from the back wth three opened bottles of beer

as the last customer goes out the door... The three lean

against the bins, tired and smiling.

BARRY

(to Rob)

What?

ROB

What do you mean, "what?"

.	BARRY

What are you snickering about?

ROB

I'm not snickering.  I'm smiling.

Because I'm happy.

BARRY

What am I missing?  What do you

have to be happy about?

DICK

Well we rang $900 today.

ROB

Yeah but more than that.  I'm happy

because I'm proud of us.  Because

although our talents are small and

peculiar, we use them to their best

advantage.

Dick and Barry look at each other.  They almost know how to

take a compliment.

EXT. RECORD STORE - NIGHT

Rob, now alone, turns the sign from "open" to "closed" shuts

the door behind him, and pulls the gate across.  Laura

appears from the next doorway.  He jumps.

ROB

Shit!

LAURA

Hi.

ROB

Hi.

LAURA

I thought I could give you a lift

back.

ROB

Are you coming home?

LAURA

Yes.  Well, I'm coming over to your

house to get some things.

ROB

My house?

Laura turns and begins walking.  Rob looks at camera.

ROB

First of all: The money.  The money

is easy to explain: She had it and

I didn't, and she wanted to give it

to me.  If she hadn't, I would have

gone under.  I've never paid her

back because I've never been able

to, and just because she's took off

and moved in with some Supertramp

fan doesn't make me five grand

richer.  So that's the money --

Laura's CAR HORN is heard.  He heads off.

CUT TO:

INT. LAURA'S CAR - NIGHT

They move down the street, and it's a little tense.  Laura

pushes a tape into the stereo.  Art Garfunkel's "Bright

Eyes" begins to play.  Rob turns away from her and makes a

face, but she knows he's making it.

LAURA

You can make all the faces you want.

My car.  My car stereo.  My

compilation tape.

Rob tries not to speak, but --

ROB

How can you like Art Garfunkel and

Marvin Gaye?  It's like saying you

support the Israelis and the

Palestinians.

LAURA

It's not like saying that at all,

actually, Rob.  Art Garfunkel and

Marvin Gaye make pop records --

ROB

-- Made.  Made.  Marvin Gaye is

dead, his father shot him in --

LAURA

-- whatever, and the Israelis and

the Palestinians don't.  Art

Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye are not

engaged in a bitter territorial

dispute, and the Israelis and the

Palestinians are.  Art Garfunkel

and Marvin Gaye --

.	ROB

-- Alright, alright but --

LAURA

-- and who says I like Marvin Gaye,

anyway?

He reels on her.

ROB

Hey!  Marvin Gaye! "Got to Give It

Up!" That's our song!  Marvin Gaye

is responsible for our entire

relationship!

LAURA

Is that right?  I'd like a word

with him.

ROB

But don't you remember?

LAURA

I remember the song.  I just

couldn't remember who sang it.

Rob shakes his head in disbelief.

LAURA

I can see why you prefer Gaye to

Garfunkel.  I get it, really.  But

there are so many other things to

worry about.  They're only records,

and if one is better than the

other, well, who cares, besides you

and Barry and Dick?  I mean really,

who gives a flying fuck?

Silence.

ROB

You used to care more about things

like Marvin Gaye than you do now.

When I first met you, and I made

you that tape, you loved it.  You

said -- and I quote -- "It was so

good it made you ashamed of your

record collection."

LAURA

Well, I liked you.  You were a

deejay, and I thought you were hot,

and I didn't have a boyfriend, and

I wanted one.

ROB

So you weren't interested in music

at all?

LAURA

Yeah, sure.  More so then than I am

now.  That's life though, isn't it?

The car slows, and Laura parks.

ROB

But Laura... that's me.  That's all

there is to me.  There isn't

anything else.  If you've lost

interest in that, you've lost

interest in everything.

LAURA

You really believe that?

Laura turns the engine off and unbuckles her seat belt.

ROB

Yes.  Look at me.  Look at our --

the apartment.  What else do I

have, other than records and CDs?

LAURA

And do you like it that way?

ROB

Not really.

She half smiles.

LAURA

Let's go in.

She gets out of the car.  Rob turns to camera, speaking

quietly and urgently.

ROB

Okay, Number two: The stuff I told

her about being unhappy in the

relationship, about half looking

around for someone else: She

tricked me into saying it.  We were

having this state of the union type

conversation and she said, quite

matter-of-factly, that we were

pretty unhappy at the moment, and

did I agree, and I said yes, and

she asked whether I ever thought

about meeting someone else.

So I asked her if she ever thought

about it, and she said of course,

so I admitted that I daydream about

it from time to time.  Now I see

that what we were really talking

about was her and Ian, and she

suckered me into absolving her.  It

was a sneaky lawyer's trick, and I

fell for it, because she's much

smarter than me.

He scrambles out of the car.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

The lock turns and Rob enters, holding the door for Laura

who slips by, her coat in her hands.  She glances down at

the table by the door and sees Ian's envelope.

ROB

You can take it with you if you want.

She slips it into her purse.  He stands facing her for a

moment, then crosses to her, takes her coat and tosses it on

a chair.  She opens the closet and takes out a big laundry

sack.

LAURA

Have you tackled the Great

Reorganization yet?

ROB

Don't you think there are more

important things to talk about than

my record collection?

She begins putting books and other things into the bag...

LAURA

You bet.  I've been saying that for

years.

Having no comeback, Rob goes for the moral high ground.

ROB

So.  Where have you been staying

for the last week?

LAURA

I think you know that.

ROB

Had to work it out for myself,

though, didn't I?

Laura looks suddenly tired and sad, and looks away.

LAURA

I'm sorry.  I haven't been very

fair to you.  That's why I came

here to the store this evening.  I

feel terrible, Rob.  This is really

hard, you know.

ROB

Good.

(beat)

So.  Is it my job?

LAURA

What?  Gimme a fucking break.  Is

that what you think?  That your not

big enough a deal for me?  Jesus,

gimme a little credit, Rob.

ROB

I don't know.  It's one of the

things I thought of.

LAURA

What were the others?

ROB

Just the obvious stuff.

LAURA

What's the obvious stuff?

ROB

I don't know.

She stands and walks toward the bathroom.

LAURA

I guess it's not that obvious, then.

ROB

No.

As soon as she shuts the door behind her, he turns to camera.

ROB

And number three: The Pregnancy.  I

didn't know she was pregnant.  Of

course I didn't.  She hadn't told

me because I had told her I was...

sort of... seeing somebody else.

We thought we were being very

grown-up, but we were being

preposterously naive, childish

even, to think that one of us could

fuck around and then own up to it

while we were living together.

So -- I didn't find out about it

'til way later.  We were going

through a good period and I made a

crack about having kids and she

burst into tears.  I made her tell

me what it was all about, and she

did.  I felt guilty and so I got

angry.  She told me that at the

time I didn't look like a very good

long-term bet.  That it was a hard

decision and she didn't see any

point in consulting me about it...

When the whole sorry tale comes out

in a great big --

We hear the bathroom door open.

LAURA (O.S.)

What?

ROB

(covering)

What, what?

Laura comes out with a toiletry bag and places it by the door.

LAURA

Did you say something?

ROB (CONT'D)

No.  So.  Is it working out with Ian?

LAURA

Rob.  Don't be childish.

ROB

Why is that childish?  Your living

with the guy!  I'm just asking how

it's going.

LAURA

I am not living with him.  I've

just been staying with him for a

few days until I work out what I'm

doing.  Look, this has nothing to

do with anyone else.  You know

that, don't you?  I left because we

weren't exactly getting along, and

we weren't talking about it.  And I

suddenly realized that I like my

job, and I like what my life is

could be turning into, and that I'm

getting to a point where I want to

get my shit together and I can't

really see that ever happening with

you, and yeah, yeah, I sort of get

interested in someone else, and

that went further than it should

have, so it seemed like a good time

to go.  But I have no idea what

will happen with Ian in the long

run.  Probably nothing.

ROB

Well then why don't you quit it

while you seem to not be ahead?

Laura rolls her eyes and head off into the bedroom with the

laundry bag.  Rob turns back to camera.

ROB

-- When the whole sorry tale comes

out in a great big lump like that,

even the most shortsighted jerk,

even the most self-deluding and

self pitying of jilted, wounded

lovers can see that there is some

cause and effect going on here,

that abortions and Ian and money

and affairs all belong to, all

deserve each other.

Laura reappears, her bag half-filled with clothes, and goes

to the book shelves next to the records.  She starts topping

off the bag with books.

LAURA

Look.  Maybe you'll grow up and

we'll get it together, you and me.

Maybe I'll never see either of you

again.  I don't know.  All I know

is that it's not a good time to be

living here.

ROB

So, what, you haven't definitely

decide to dump me?  There's still a

chance we'll get back together?

LAURA

I don't know.

ROB

Well, if you don't know, there's a

chance, right?  It's like, if

someone was in the hospital and he

was seriously ill and the doctor

said, I don't know if he's got a

chance of survival or not, then

that doesn't mean the patient's

definitely going to die, now does

it?  It means he might live.  Even

if it's only a remote possibility.

LAURA

I suppose so.

ROB

So we have a chance of getting back

together again.

LAURA

Oh, Rob, shut up.

ROB

Hey, I just want to know where I

stand.  What chance --

LAURA

-- I don't fucking know what chance

you fucking have!

She abandons her attempt at packing.

ROB

Well if you could tell me roughly

it would help.

LAURA

Okay, okay, we have a nine percent

chance of getting back together.

Does that clarify the situation?

ROB

Yeah.  Great.

.	LAURA

(shaking her head)

I'm too tired for this now.  I know

I'm asking a lot, but will you take

off for a while so I can get my

stuff packed up?  I need to be able

to think while I do it and I can't

think while you're here.

ROB

No problem.  If I can ask one

question.

LAURA

Fine.  One.

ROB

It sounds stupid.

LAURA

Nevermind.

ROB

You won't like it.

LAURA

Just ask it!

ROB

Is it better?

LAURA

Is what better?  Better than what?

ROB

Well.  Sex, I guess.  Is sex with

him better?

LAURA

Jesus Christ, Rob.  Is that really

what's bothering you?

ROB

Of course it is.

LAURA

You really think it would make a

difference either way?

ROB

I don't know.

LAURA

Well the answer is that I don't

know either.  We haven't done it yet.

ROB

Never?

LAURA

I haven't felt like it.

ROB

But not even before, when he was

living upstairs?

LAURA

No.  I was living with you, remember?

We've slept together but we haven't

made love.  Not yet.  But I'll tell

you one thing.  The sleeping

together is better.

ROB

(trying not to smile)

The sleeping together is better but

not the sex because you haven't

done it was him yet.

LAURA

Will you please just go?

INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - NIGHT

Rob shuts the door behind him and does a crazy

Charleston/Cabbage-Patch/Boxstep/Touchdown dance of pure

elation, then bounces down the stairs.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob bounces along, a smile wider than we have seen yet.

Maybe even jumping to touch an awning.  He lands and tells

us:

ROB

I feel good!  I feel great!  I feel

like a new man.  I feel so much

better, in fact --

INT. WEEDS BAR - NIGHT

Rob moves through the room, still grinning a bit like a

proud new father, toward the table where Barry, Dick, Marie

and T-Bone sit, listening to a story T-Bone is telling.

.Marie turns to him.

ROB

Hi, Marie.

MARIE

Everything go alright?

Rob glances at Barry, who averts his gaze.

ROB

She just wanted to pick up some

stuff.  No big thing.  A relief,

actually.

MARIE

God, I hate that time.  That pick

up stuff time.  I just went through

that before I came here.  You know

that song "Patsy Cline Times Two" I

play?  That's about me and my ex

dividing up our record collections.

ROB

It's a great song.

MARIE

Thank you.

Rob glances at T-Bone, his mind calculating the new info.

ROB

Is that why you came to Chicago in

the first place?  Because of, you

know, dividing up your record

collection and stuff?

MARIE

Yup.

Marie slides closer, turning her back on the others.  The

loop is closed.

ROB

You share a place with T-Bone?

MARIE

No way!  I'd cramp his style.  And

I wouldn't want to listen to all

that stuff happening on the other

side of the bedroom wall.  I'm way

to unattached for that.

ROB

I understand completely.

SERIES OF CUTS - ELAPSED TIME

Rob and Marie lean in to each other, everyone else out of

focus.

ROB (V.O.)

Awhile back, Dick and Barry and I

agreed that what really matters is

what you like, not what you are

like...

ROB AND MARIE - LATER

MARIE

Yeah, but if you heard this band

called the Crumblers, you'd --

ROB

What do you mean, the Crumblers?

You know the Crumblers?  Nobody's

heard the Crumblers.  Except me.

MARIE

Yeah, I know the Crumblers!  I

bought a used Blasters album in New

York about ten years ago and

somebody left a Crumblers single in

it.  My everything changed for a

couple of weeks.

Rob glows --

ROB (V.O.)

Books, records, films -- these

things matter.  Call me shallow but

it's the damn truth, and by this

measure I was having one of the

best dates of my life.

ROB AND MARIE

ROB

Yeah, but you know what's his best

film and nobody's even seen it?

MARIE

The Conformist.

ROB

Exactly!  Fucking ex-actly!

MARIE

(laughs)

You haven't even seen it!

ROB

Nor have you!

They just laugh and laugh --

ROB (V.O.)

References, titles, lyrics, flew

and met each other in mid-air

embraces.  The evening goes with

breathtaking precision.

INT. MARIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob and Marie are kissing standing up.

MARIE

Are you okay?

ROB

(nodding)

Yes.  You?

MARIE

For now.  But I wouldn't be if I

thought this was the end of the

evening.

ROB

I'm sure it isn't.

MARIE

Good.  In that case, I'll fix us

something else to drink.  You

sticking to the whiskey or you want

coffee?

ROB

Whiskey.

Marie goes into the kitchen, and they keep talking around

the corner.

MARIE

Tops off two whiskeys and starts into the other room where

she sees Rob, standing and holding his jacket.

ROB (CONT'D)

I'd better go.  I gotta get up

early.  Go over to my parents'.

MARIE

When I said before that I hoped it

wasn't the end of the evening, I

was, you know... talking about

breakfast and stuff.

She plants the whiskeys firmly on the coffee table.

MARIE (CONT'D)

I'd like it if you could stay the

night.

ROB

(as if it is dawning

on him)

Oh, right.  Alright.

MARIE

Jesus, so much for delicacy.  I

pegged you for a master of

understatement, beating around the

bush and all that buzz.

ROB

I use it but I don't understand it

when other people use it.

MARIE

So you'll stay?

ROB

Yeah.

MARIE

Good.

Marie picks up the drinks again and exits to the bedroom.

Rob just stands there... and the LIGHTING CHANGES.

ROB

(to camera)

Over nine million men in this

country have slept with ten or more

women.  And do they all look like

Richard Gere?  Are they all as rich

as Bill Gates?  Charming as Oscar

Wilde?  Hell no.  Nothing to do

with any of that.  Maybe fifty or

so have one or more of these

attributes, but that still

leaves...well, about nine million,

give or take fifty.  And they're

just men.  Regular guys.

We're just guys, because I, even I,

am a member of this exclusive, nine

million member club.  In fact,

Marie is my seventeenth lover. "How

does he do it?" you ask. "He wears

bad sweaters, he's grumpy, he's

broke, he hangs out with the

Musical Moron Twins, and he gets to

go to bed with a recording artist

who looks like Susan Dey-slash-Meg

Ryan.  What's going on?  Listen up,

because I think I can explain, with

all modesty aside: I ask questions.

That's it.  That's my secret.  It

works precisely because that isn't

how you're supposed to do it, if

you listen to the collective male

wisdom.  There are still enough

old-style, big-mouthed, egomaniacs

running around to make someone like

me appear to be refreshingly

different.  If you can't hack this

simple strategy, there are some

women out there, of course, who

want to get pushed around, ignored

and mowed over, but do you really

want to be with them anyway?

... he goes through a door into the bedroom.  Marie is

taking off her earrings.

ROB

Would you like me to turn the

lights out?  Or would you like them

on?

MARIE

God, you ask a lot of questions.

INT. MARIE'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Rob stares at the ceiling as Marie sleeps on next to him.

ROB (V.O.)

But in the morning we were just two

people, slightly hung-over, who

were not in love, sharing the same

space.  And I feel...

Rob looks to the camera.

ROB

Sex is about the only grown-up

thing that I know how to do; It's

weird, then, that it's the only

thing that can make me feel like a

ten-year-old.

CUT BACK TO:

EXT. MARIE'S APARTMENT - MORNING

The two of them come out of the building and into the street.

ROB

Which way are you going?

MARIE

(points left)

That way.  You?

ROB

(points right)

That way.

MARIE

And so it is.  I'll talk to you

later.

ROB

I'll call you.

MARIE

(smiles)

Right.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Empty.  Dick prices records out on the floor.  Rob leans

against the register.  Barry sits on a stool next to him.

They're top-fiving it.  Rob's heart isn't in it.

ROB

Okay.  Top five side one track ones.

Number one... "Janie Jones," the

Clash, from The Clash.

BARRY

Ehh.

ROB

"Thunder Road," Bruce Springsteen,

from Born to Run. "Smells Like Teen

Spirit," Nirvana, Nevermind.

BARRY

Oh no, Rob, that's not obvious

enough.  Not at all.  Dick, did you

hear that?

ROB

Shut up. "Let's Get It On," Marvin

Gaye, from Let's Get It On.

"Airbag," Radiohead, from OK

Computer.

BARRY

(sarcastic)

Ooh!  A kind of recent record!

Rob's sly declaration of new

classic-status slipped into a list

of old classics!  Nice! "Let's Get

It On?" Couldn't you make it more

obvious than that?

DICK

Rob.  Phone.

(whispers)

It's Laura.

Rob springs to his feet, takes the phone and walks to the

end of the cord.  Deep breath.

ROB

Hi.

LAURA - INTERCUT

LAURA

Hi.  I've been looking for an

envelope of my receipts from last

month and I'm thinking I didn't

take them with me.  Have you seen

them around?

ROB

I'll look for 'em.  How you doing?

LAURA

I'm sorry to call, but I need that

stuff...

ROB

Fine, I'm sure it's in the file at

home.  I'll call you when I find

it, and then we'll talk.

LAURA

We'll talk some other time.

.	ROB

Great... That's great.

Rob comes back to the counter and hangs up the phone.

BARRY

Rob!  What about the Beatles?  What

about the fucking Rolling Stones?

What about fucking... fucking...

Beethoven?  Track one side one of

the Fifth Symphony?  You shouldn't

be allowed to run a record shop.

You shouldn't be allowed to --

SFX: BARRY'S VOICE FADES OUT.  Rob's mouth slacks and he

stares off.

ROB (V.O.)

There's something different about

the sound of her voice... And what

did she mean last night, she hasn't

slept with him yet.  Yet.  What

does "yet" mean, anyway? "I haven't

seen... Evil Dead II yet." What

does that mean?  It means you're

going to go, doesn't it?

SFX: BACK TO THE ROOM.

BARRY

-- You're like a little squirrel of

music, storing away dead little

nuts of old garbage music, musical

lint, old shit, shit, shit --

ROB

-- Barry, if I were to say to you I

haven't seen Evil Dead II yet, what

would that mean?

Barry just looks at Rob.  He pulls out a Game Boy and begins

playing.

ROB (CONT'D)

Just... come on, what would it mean

to you?  That sentence? "I haven't

seen Evil Dead II yet?"

BARRY

To me, it would mean that you're a

liar.  You saw it twice.  Once with

Laura -- oops -- once with me and

Dick.  We had that conversation

about the possibilities of the guy

making ammo off-screen in the

Fourteenth Century.

ROB

Yeah, yeah, I know.  But say I

hadn't seen it and I said to you,

"I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet,"

what would you think?

Barry shuts off the Game Boy.

BARRY

I'd think you were a cinematic

idiot.  And I'd feel sorry for you.

ROB

No, but would you think, from that

one sentence.  That I was going to

see it?

BARRY

I'm sorry, Rob, but I'm struggling

here.  I don't understand any part

of this conversation.  You're

asking me what I would think if you

told me that you hadn't seen a film

that you've seen.  What am I

supposed to say?

ROB

Just listen to me.  If I said to

you --

BARRY

"-- I haven't seen Evil Dead II

yet," yeah, yeah, I hear you --

ROB

Would you... would you get the

impression that I wanted to see it?

BARRY

Well... you couldn't have been

desperate to see it, otherwise

you'd have already gone...

Rob brightens.  Barry finally considers.

BARRY

...But the word "yet..." Yeah, you

know what, I'd get the impression

that you wanted to see it.

Otherwise you'd say you didn't

really want to.

ROB

But in your opinion, would I

definitely go?

BARRY

How the fuck am I supposed to know

that?  You might get sick of people

telling you you've really gotta go

see the movie.

Rob darkens.

ROB

Why would they care?

BARRY

Because it's a brilliant film.

It's funny, violent, and the

soundtrack kicks fucking ass.

They look at each other for a strange moment.

BARRY (CONT'D)

I never thought I would say this,

but can I go work now?

ROB

Let's pack it up.  We haven't had a

customer in four hours.

Barry stands.

BARRY

Fine by me.  I still want pay to 7

o'clock.

ROB

Ha.

DICK

I can't go to the club tonight, guys.

BARRY

Why?

Dick smiles sheepishly.

BARRY

Who are you going to see?

DICK

Nobody.

Barry's eyes widen.

BARRY

Rob, looky looky.  Dick!  Are you

getting some?!

Silence.

BARRY (CONT'D)

Un-fucking-believable.  Dick's out

on a hot date, Rob's boning Marie

LaSalle, and the best-looking and

most intelligent of all of us isn't

getting anything at all.

ROB

How do you know about that?

BARRY

Oh come on, Rob.  What am I, an

idiot?  I'm more bothered by Dick's

thing.  How did this happen, Dick?

What rational explanation can there

possibly be?  What's her name?

Barry is going a little hard.  Dick shrinks back.

DICK

Anna.

BARRY

Anna who?  Anna Green Gables?  Anna

Conda?

DICK

Anna Moss.

BARRY

Anna Moss.  Mossy.  The Mossy Thing.

The Swamp Thing.  Is she all green

and furry?

ROB

Shut the fuck up, Barry.

BARRY

Yeah, you would say that, wouldn't

you?  You two have to stick together

now.  Boners United.  United in

getting some.

Barry picks up his bag and heads for the door.

ROB

Don't be sad, Barry.  You'll find

true love someday.

BARRY

Suck my ass.

ROB

Terrific.

Rob looks to Dick, who looks guilty.

ROB

Don't worry about it, Dick.  Barry's

an asshole.

DICK

Yeah... Well... I'll see you

tomorrow, Rob.

Dick exits.  Rob watches the door close behind him, and

looks out over the empty store.  He TALKS TO CAMERA as he

goes to the light switches and begins shutting them off, one

by one...

ROB

Why does it bother Barry that much

that Dick is seeing someone?  He's

worried about how his life is

turning out, and he's lonely, and

lonely people are the bitterest of

them all.

...until all the lights are out.  Rob's silhouette slips out

the door.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

A downpour is on.  Rob has himself wedged into a phone

booth, the little kind.

ROB

(into phone)

Hi.  It's me... I'm right outside...

I know... I know... I figured I

could just walk you to the train

and you could go... home.  Or

whatever it is... No!  Of course

not -- okay.  I'll be right here.

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING

Rob stands under the overhang, watching Laura walk the long

hallway from the elevators to the door.

ROB (V.O.)

Laura looks different.  Less

stress-out, more in control.

Something has happened, maybe

something real, or maybe something

in her head.  Whatever it is, you

can see that she thinks she's

started out on some new stage in

her life.  She hasn't.  I'm not

going to let her.

She emerges from doors, says something to him and they start

walking, sharing her umbrella.

INT. OLDE TOWNE ALE HOUSE - NIGHT

Rob and Laura have just sat down in a booth.

LAURA

So, how are you?

ROB

Have you slept with him yet?

LAURA

I told you I slept with him.

ROB

No, not -- I mean have you, you

know --

LAURA

Is that why you wanted to see me?

ROB

I guess.

LAURA

Oh, Rob.  What do you want me to say?

ROB

I want you to say that you haven't,

and I want it to be the truth.

She looks past him.

LAURA

I can't do that.

She starts to say something else but Rob is up and out.

.EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob pushes through the rush hour raincoats, seeming to be

the only one going his way.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is soaking, slumped in his chair, his headphones on and

the stereo lit up behind him.  He talks a little loud, due

to the headphones.

ROB

Tonight we're gonna figure out the

five best angry songs about women.

Let's go...

He holds up a stack of records and CDs.

ROB (CONT'D)

You kind of have to start with

Elvis Costello, but where? "Motel

Matches?" "I Want You?" "I Hope

You're Happy Now?" "Green Shirt?"

His records should be sealed in

cases that say "in case of vicious

betrayal, smash glass." "Where Did

You Sleep Last Night," sure, but by

Robert Johnson or by Nirvana?

Maybe a Liz Phair track.  There are

a couple to get angry at instead of

being angry with.  Some devil's

advocate stuff.  The Silver Jews

could be good when you're ready to

start putting it all behind you...

But I think we're getting ahead of

ourselves there.  Ah.  Dylan.  Bob

fucking Dylan.  Now Bob Dylan

would --

The phone rings.  He pulls off his headphones and picks it

up but says nothing.

LAURA (O.S.)

You must have known it would happen.

You couldn't have been entirely

unprepared.  Like you said, I've

been living with the guy.  We were

bound to get around to it sometime.

She laughs a bit nervously.

LAURA (O.S.)(CONT'D)

(machine)

And anyway, I keep trying to tell

you, that's not really the point,

is it?  The point is we got

ourselves into an awful mess, Rob...

Are you there?  What are you

thinking?

ROB

(barely a whisper)

Nothing.

LAURA (O.S.)

We can meet for another drink if

you want.  So I can explain it

better.  I owe you that much.

ROB

Look, I gotta go.  I work too, you

know.

LAURA (O.S.)

Will you call me?

ROB

I don't have your number.

LAURA (O.S.)

Call me at work.  We can arrange to

meet properly.  I don't want this

to be the last conversation we have.

I know what you're like.

ROB

You do, huh.

He hangs up and stares at the wall for awhile.  He gets a

beer from the fridge and sits back down.  He picks up the

phone and dials.

ROB (CONT'D)

Yes, a residence, a Mr. Ian Raymond,

North Side... thank you.

He writes down a number and hangs up, then looks to camera.

ROB

You know the worst thing about

being rejected?  The complete lack

of control due to loss of control.

He picks up the phone and dials, while continuing to talk to

us --

ROB

If I could only control the when

and how of being dumped by somebody

then it wouldn't seem as bad.  But

then, of course --

He hangs up quickly --

ROB

-- it wouldn't be rejection, would

it?  It would be mutual consent.

It would be musical differences.  I

would be pursuing a solo career.

CUT TO:

EXT. IAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is tucked into a phone booth across the street.  He can

see the silhouettes of Laura and Ian in the window.  He

picks up the phone, drops a quarter, and hits the numbers

hard as he dials... a muffled male "hello?" is heard and Rob

hangs up.  He does it again.  And again.  And again.  Until --

INT. IAN'S APARTMENT - INTERCUT

Still an unpacked box or two, but it's set up: a framed

"Woodstock - The Movie" poster, stacks of new fiction, a

bread maker -- you get the idea.  Ian is shorter than Laura,

scruffier than Rob, and looks not unlike Leo Sayer/Steve

Guttenberg.  He stares at Laura with amused exasperation.

She picks up the phone --

LAURA

Hello.

ROB

It's me.

LAURA

I figured it was.

(re: traffic noise)

Where are you?

ROB

I think the big question here is

where are you, if you don't mind my

saying so, and I think I know where

you are.  You're running.  On the run.

You're running from a point that

everyone hits in any relationship,

and you're just going to hit it

again with Ian but it's going to be

with a World Music bunny-rabbit-

looking earth-shoe-wearing "Doctor-

Who"-watching twit who doesn't

really understand you, not the way

that I do and will more in the

future, and you'll have just wasted

more time and arrive in the exact

same place that you're in now, only

later.  And with... him.

LAURA

I'm not -- hold on...

She walks into another room, shutting the door behind her.

On a bookshelf is a picture of a younger Ian in a tunic,

emoting on some college stage.  She turns it face down.

LAURA

I'm not in love with Ian, okay?

She wanders over to the window, looking out absently.  She

sees Rob down there at the phone booth.

ROB

Are you still in love with me?

LAURA

Jesus.  I do not know.  I'll talk

to you later.

ROB

Think about what I said.  I mean,

if you want to experiment, or

whatever --

LAURA

(indignant)

I'm not experimenting.  Why don't

you go experiment.

ROB

I don't want to.  Don't need to.  I

love you.

LAURA

You don't ever think about other

people?

ROB

No... not really... I mean, I think

about it... but no, I don't really

think about it.

IAN (O.S.)

(through the door)

Laura?  Are you okay?

LAURA

(covering the

mouthpiece, to Ian)

I am fine...

(to Rob)

I gotta go.  Goodbye.

She clicks the phone off.  The door cracks and Ian sticks

his head in.

IAN

Are you sure you're okay?

She moves past him back into the apartment.

LAURA

Yeah, I'm fine.  I'm off the phone.

IAN

You look upset.

LAURA

I'm upset, but I'm fine.

IAN

Maybe I should talk to him.

LAURA

Mmmm, no.  Not a good idea.

IAN

Conflict resolution is my job, Laura.

LAURA

Nothing to resolve, Ian.  Let's get

a drink.

She grabs her coat and opens the door.  The phone begins to

ring.

LAURA (CONT'D)

(waving toward the door)

C'mon, c'mon.

EXT. IAN'S APARTMENT

Rob stands on the sidewalk in the rain, Ian's building

behind him and down a few doors.

ROB

I wish I could be one of those guys

who doesn't call, the kind of guy

that gets broken up with and

appears not to give a shit.  He

doesn't make an ass out of himself,

or frighten anybody, and this week

I've done both of those things.

One day Laura's sorry and guilty,

and the next she's scared and

angry, and I'm entirely responsible

for the transformation, and it

doesn't do my case any good at all.

I'd stop if I could but I --

His head turns at the sharp SOUND of a door opening -- Ian

and Laura are coming out of the building.  He jumps behind a

tree, peering around it as they fade down the street.

INT. GREEN MILL - NIGHT

Rob sits alone, nursing a scotch.  Rob looks up into the

mirror behind the bar and sees an older woman, MRS. ASHWORTH,

sitting alone a few stools down.

ROB

Do I know you?

ALISON'S MOM

I don't know.

Rob remembers, and his gaze has a new found seriousness.

ROB

You're Mrs. Ashworth.  I'm Rob.  An

old boyfriend of you're daughter's.

Alison's Mom's brow furrows and her face darkens.

ROB

Alison's.

ALISON'S MOM

Really.

ROB

Long time ago.  I was just thinking

about her.  I was her first

boyfriend.

.	ALISON'S MOM

What did you say your name was?

ROB

Rob.  Rob Gordon.  Circa junior

high...

ALISON'S MOM

I hate to quibble with you Rob, but

she married her first boyfriend.

Kevin Bannister.

ROB

You gotta be kidding me.

ALISON'S MOM

That's right.  Kevin.  She's Kevin

Bannister.  She lives in Australia.

She doesn't seem to happy that Alison lives in Australia.

Rob is thrilled.

ROB

Really?  Married Kevin?  Her junior

high sweetheart... What chance

would I have had against that?

None, no chance.  That's just fate.

ALISON'S MOM

I beg your pardon?

ROB

Technically, I'm number one.  I

went out with her a week before

Kevin did.  Her first boyfriend.  Me.

She stands.

ALISON'S MOM

Well Rob, I'll tell her you said

hello.  If she remembers you.

Alison's Mom strolls out.

ROB

(calling after her)

I think she will.  But it's okay if

she doesn't.  I'm fine now.

Rob turns to the bartender, smiling giddily.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob walks through Uptown toward the train.

ROB

And suddenly I am fine.  For the

moment there is not one extra pound

on my chest.  This is fate.  Alison

married Kevin.  You get it?  That's

fate.  That's got nothing to do

with me, that is beyond my control,

beyond my fault...

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob into camera, digging through a box, fishing through

pictures and letters, concert tickets and other mementos.

He begins to assemble a small pile of pictures of women.

ROB

I want to see the others on the Big

Top Five.  Penny, who wouldn't let

me touch her and then went and had

sex with that bastard Chris Thompson.

Sarah, my partner in rejection who

rejected me, and Charlie, who I

have to thank for everything: my

great job, my sexual self-

confidence, the works.  There's

this Springsteen song, "Bobby

Jean," off Born in the USA.  About

a girl who's left town years before

and he's pissed off because he

didn't know about it, and he wanted

to say goodbye, tell her that he

missed her, and wish her good luck.

Well, I'd like my life to be like a

Springsteen song.  Just once.  I

know I'm not born to run, and it's

clear that Halsted Street is

nothing like Thunder Road, but

feelings can't be that different,

can they?  I'd like to call up all

those people and ask them how they

are and whether they've forgiven

me, and tell them that I have

forgiven them.  And say good luck,

goodbye.  No hard feelings.  And

then they'd feel good and I'd feel

good.  We'd all feel good.  I'd

feel clean, and calm, and ready to

start again.  That'd be good.

Great even.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob holds an old crumpled address book in one hand and the

phone in the other.

ROB

Penny Hardwick?  This is Rob

Gordon... From High school... Yeah.

EXT. MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT

Rob and Penny walk out of the theater mid-conversation.

They look happy as they walk down the street.

ROB (V.O.)

Penny is as beautiful as she was in

high school when I broke it off

with her because she wouldn't sleep

with me.  In fact she's even more

beautiful, and really grown into

herself.

INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

A mid-scale trattoria.  Rob and Penny sit at table laughing

and talking.  If we didn't know better we might think there

is chemistry.

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

She tells me about her life, and I

get it.  And I tell about mine, and

she's interested.

CLOSE-UP -- ROB TALKING

ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)

And then, with no real explanation,

I just launch into it: I tell her

about Laura and Ian, and Charlie

and Marco, and about Alison Ashworth

and Kevin Bannister...

ROB

...and you wanted to sleep with

Chris Thompson instead of me, and...

and I thought you could help me

understand why it keeps happening,

why I'm doomed to be left, doomed

to be rejected and...

He slows to a stop.  We see Penny as she goes from happy to

livid.

PENNY

Rob.  I was crazy about you.  I

wanted to sleep with you, one day,

but not when I was sixteen.  When

you broke up with me -- when you

broke up with me -- because I was,

to use your charming expression,

tight, I cried and cried and I

hated you.  And then that little

shitbag asked me out, and I was too

tired to fight him off, and it

wasn't rape because I said okay,

but it wasn't far off.  And I

didn't have sex with anyone else

until after college because I hated

it so much.  And now you want to

have a chat about rejection?  Well,

fuck you, Rob.

Penny stands and leaves.  Rob just sits.

ROB

(cheerful)

So that's another one I don't have

to worry about.  I should have done

this years ago.

Rob indicates to an off-screen waiter.

ROB

Check...

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

Sarah's easy to find.  She still

sends me Christmas cards with her

address and phone number on them.

They never say anything else,

except for "Merry Christmas, Love

Sarah." I send her equally blank

ones back.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY - NIGHT - ROB'S POV

of a door opening, revealing Sarah, a few years older but

still pretty in her mousey way.  She looks at Rob with a bit

too much in her eyes.

INT. CARMEN'S PIZZA - NIGHT

Rob and Sarah face each other over a half-eaten pizza.

SARAH

I can't believe I left you for

him... Crazy.

Sarah looks down at her plate, shaking her head, blushing.

Rob looks uncomfortable.  This is more than he was looking

for.

ROB

Well... probably seemed like a good

idea at the time.

She looks up again...

SARAH

Probably.  I can't remember why,

though.

...and back down again.

ROB (V.O.)

I haven't got the heart for the

rejection conversation.  There are

no hard feelings here, and I am

glad that she ditched me, and not

the other way around.

INT./EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY - NIGHT

Sarah, in the doorway, smiles painfully.  It's clear she

doesn't want to shut the door, but she does.  Rob turns and

walks down the hall toward the door to the street as he

talks TO CAMERA.

ROB

I could've ended up having sex back

there.  And what better way to

exorcize rejection demons than to

screw the person who rejected you,

right?  But you wouldn't be sleeping

with a person.  You'd be sleeping

with a whole sad single-person

culture.  It'd be like sleeping

with Talia Shire in "Rocky" if you

weren't Rocky.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP: PHONE BOOK

as Rob's finger moves down the column, then stops.

Rob looks up with a little shock, almost recoiling from the

phone book.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

Charlie's in the fucking phone book.

She has come to assume such an

importance, I feel she should be

living on Mars.  She's an

extraterrestrial, a ghost, a myth,

not a person with an answering

machine, in the phone book... I

call and hang up on her voice mail

a couple of times, then I leave my

name and number and throw in a

"long time-no-see..." I don't hear

anything back from her for a few

days.  Now that's more like it, if

you're talking about rejection:

someone who won't even return your

phone messages a decade after she

rejected you.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob hears the door open as he stocks shelves, and turns.

It's Ian.  Rob reacts, gunfighter eyes.

ROB

Can I help you?

IAN

Hello, Rob.  Remember me?  I'm Ray.

Ian.

Rob says nothing.

IAN

I thought maybe we should talk.

Sort a few things out?

Rob is disoriented on the way to angry.  Dick and Barry's

ears perk up.

ROB

What needs sorting out?

IAN

Come on, Rob.  My relationship with

Laura has obviously disturbed you a

great deal.

ROB

Funnily enough I haven't been too

thrilled about it.

IAN

We are not talking jokey

understatement here, Rob.  We're

talking actionable harassment.  Ten

phone calls a night, hanging around

outside my house...

ROB

Yeah, well, I've stopped all that

now.

IAN

We've noticed and we're glad.  But,

you know... how are we going to

make peace here?  We want to make

things easier for you.  What can we

do?  Obviously I know how special

Laura is, and I know things can't

be good for you at the moment.  I'd

hate it if I lost her.  But I'd

like to think that if she decided

she didn't want to see me anymore,

I'd respect that decision.  Do you

see what I'm saying?

ROB

Yeah.

IAN

Good.  So shall we leave it at that

then?

ROB

I dunno.

IAN

Think about it, Rob.

CUT TO FANTASY #1:

Rob looking sure of himself, righteous.

IAN (CONT'D)

Good.  So shall we leave it at that

then?

ROB

I've already left it, you pathetic

rebound fuck!  Now get your

patchouli stink out of my store.

Ian leaves, rattled.

CUT TO FANTASY #2

Same thing.

IAN

Good.  So shall we leave it at that

then?

ROB

We won't leave it, Ian.  Not ever.

Rob springs toward Ian, but Barry blocks his way.  Dick

helps hold Rob back.

DICK

Don't do it, Rob!

BARRY

He's not worth it!

Rob reaches a pointed finger over Barry's shoulder.

ROB

Leave town.  Leave the country, you

little bitch, because you're gonna

look back on walks by the house and

ten phone calls a night as a golden

age.  Get ready, mutherfucker.

Ian trips backward and scurries out the door.

CUT TO FANTASY #3

Rob, Dick, and Barry just beating the living shit out of

Ian, Rodney King style.  Ian lies on the floor trying to

cover himself.  Dick, already out of breath, breaks from the

pack and jerks the air conditioner from the wall and hefts

it over his head, preparing for the death blow.

CUT BACK TO REALITY

IAN

So shall we leave it at that then?

ROB

I dunno.

IAN

Think about it, Rob.

Ian walks out.  Rob looks spent.  He shuffles toward the

back of the store.

INT. RECORD STORE - BACK ROOM - DAY

Rob is laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.  Dick

sticks his head in the door.

DICK

Phone, Rob.  Somebody named Charlie.

Rob pulls the phone into the bathroom and shuts the door.

BATHROOM

Rob curls up with the phone.

ROB

Hello?

INT. CHARLIE'S HOUSE - INTERCUT

Charlie looks even better than when we saw her in college.

CHARLIE

Rob, hi, so sorry I missed your

call.  In LA on business.  You know

how it gets.

ROB

Yeah, sure...

CHARLIE

Good.  Great.  Yeah... Wow.  Rob

Gordon.  Seems like a 100 million

years ago now.

ROB

Yeah.  A billion.  Right... How are

you?

CHARLIE

Fantastic but I'm a little busy

right now.  Listen.  Do you want to

come to dinner Saturday?  I'm

having some friends over and I need

a spare man.  Are you a spare man?

ROB

Uh...yes, at the moment.

CHARLIE

Great.  Gotta go.  See you then.

INT. CHARLIE'S DINING ROOM - SERIES OF SHOTS OVER THE COURSE

OF DINNER

A sexy version of a hip wine commercial: a small mid-

thirties crowd of successful, beautiful people.  Rob sits at

the table silently as the other guests talk and eat.  Rob's

central activities are working his way through maybe a few

too many wines making sure his cigarette smoke doesn't get

in anyone's face.  His eyes occasionally dart around the

table, but he says nothing to anyone.

CUT TO:

INT. CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

Rob is a little too settled into the couch, somewhat bleary.

Everyone gone but the two of them, Charlie plops down into a

chair across from Rob.

ROB

Hey Charlie.

CHARLIE

Hey Rob.

ROB

Why did you break up with me for

Marco?

CHARLIE

(on her feet)

Fuck!  I knew it!  You're going

through one of those what-does-it-

all-mean things.

ROB

Huh?

CHARLIE

There's been a rash of them,

recently.  I find it a little

unnerving.  In fact Marco called a

few months back, and he wanted to

see me, and rehash the past as they

say, and I wasn't really up for it.

Do all men go through this?

ROB (CONT'D)

C'mon, just answer the question.

You can say what you like.  What

the hell?

Charlie looks off at a corner of the ceiling, musters a look

of "contemplation."

CHARLIE

It's all kind of lost in the... in

the dense mists of time now... It

wasn't that I really liked Marco

more.  In fact I thought you were

more, shall we say, attractive than

him.  It was just that he knew he

was good-looking and you didn't,

and that made a difference somehow.

You used to act as if I was weird

for wanting to spend time with you,

and that got kind of beat, if you

know what I mean.  Your self-image

started to rub off on me and I

ended up thinking that I was

strange.  And I knew that you were

kind and thoughtful... you made me

laugh, and I dug the way you got

consumed by things you loved... and

Marco seemed a bit more, I don't

know, glamorous?  More sure of

himself?

(pause)

Less hard work, because I felt like

I was dragging you around, sort of.

(pause)

A little sunnier.  Sparkier.

(pause)

I don't know.  You know what people

are like at that age.  They make

very superficial judgements.  Do

you think that's superficial?  He

was a clown, if it's any consolation.

ROB

Did you tell that to Marco when he

did his what-does-it-all-mean thing

with you?

CHARLIE

Oh God, no.  I didn't want to hurt

his feelings.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

I wanted the works and I got it.

None of Alison Ashworth's fate,

none of Sarah's rewriting of

history, and no reminder that I'd

got all the rejection stuff a

little backward, like I did about

Penny.  Just a perfectly clear

explanation of why some people have

it and some don't.  All I've

learned from Charlie is that maybe

my one talent, my genius for being

normal, is a little overrated.

CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob enters the already open store, in a bad mood, to find

Barry putting up a poster.  It reads:

"BARRYTOWN/appearing Saturday night/Bucktown Pub"

BARRY

Hey.

ROB

What the fuck is that?

BARRY

My band.

ROB

What band?

BARRY

The band that found me and asked me

to join.

ROB

You are not in a band, Barry.  You

are not a musician.  And no posters.

BARRY

Thanks for your support, Rob.

Really appreciate it.

ROB

Barrytown.  Barrytown?  Is there no

end to your arrogance?

BARRY

I didn't make up the name.  It's

the Steely Dan song.  And it was in

The Commitments.

ROB

You can't be called Barry and sing

in a group called Barrytown.

BARRY

They were fucking called that

before I was in it, okay?  It

wasn't my idea.

ROB

That's why you got the gig, isn't it?

Barry says nothing.

ROB (CONT'D)

Isn't it?

BARRY

That was one of the reasons they

asked me to join originally, yes.

But --

ROB

Great!  That's fucking great!  They

only asked you to sing because of

your name!  You can stick it above

the browser racks over there.

BARRY

How many tickets can I put you down

for?

ROB

None.  Christ!

BARRY

You're not even coming?

ROB

Of course I'm not coming.  Do I

look like I'd want to listen to

some terrible experimental racket

played in some hideous cave?  Where

is it?

(looks at the poster)

The fucking Bucktown Pub?  Ha!

.	BARRY

So much for friends, then.  You're

a bitter bastard, Rob, you know that?

ROB

Bitter?  Because I'm not in

Barrytown?  You should be shot like

a lame horse, you jerk.

(re: the poster)

Just keep that out of my window.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob opens the door to find Laura filling a duffel bag in the

living room.

LAURA

I called and called but you were

out.  I thought I'd be gone before

you got back.

ROB

Is that the last of it?

LAURA

Yep.  I might have missed some

stuff.  I'm so used to some things

being here that I don't even notice

them.

ROB

Those look heavy.  Where's Ian?

LAURA

He's at home.  Listen, I can't

believe he went to the store.  I'm

mortified, actually.  I'm really

sorry.  He had no right to do that,

and I told him so.

ROB

It was kind of funny.

They smile.

LAURA

I'm sure.

ROB

You still together?  Going all right?

LAURA

I don't really want to talk about

it, to be honest.

ROB

That bad, eh?

LAURA

You know what I mean.

Rob flops onto the couch and surveys the room.

ROB

It's a dump, isn't it?

Laura sits down, on the other side of the couch.

LAURA

Fix it up.  It'll make you feel

better.

ROB

I'll bet you can't remember what

you were doing here, can you?  I

mean, how much are you making now?

Sixty?  Seventy?  And you were

living in this shitty place.

LAURA

You know I didn't mind.  And it's

not as if Ray's place is any better.

ROB

I'm sorry, but can we get this

straight?  What is his fucking

name, Ian or Ray?  What do you call

him?

LAURA

Ray.  I hate Ian.

ROB

I hate him too.  So I just call him

"Mavis." Or "Sissyboy." Or "Mavis

the Sissyboy."

Laura starts laughing, laying on the couch on her back, very

close to Rob.  Rob leans in, sort of looking down into her

eyes.

ROB

This is where you're supposed to

say that you haven't laughed this

much in ages, and then you see the

error of your ways.

LAURA

You make me laugh much more than

Ray does, if that's what you're

getting at.  But I already knew you

could make me laugh.  It's

everything else I don't know about.

ROB

You know I'm a good person.

LAURA

Mmm hmm.

ROB

You know that I can cook my ass off

when I feel like it.

LAURA

Oh ho, so very infrequently.

He moves a little closer.

ROB

You know my favorite beverage is

your bath water.

She laughs.  He moves in, not really trying to kiss her but

leaving the door open for her... She almost goes for it, but

instead gets to her feet.

LAURA

Time to go.

She goes to her bags.  Rob points to a pile of CDs.

ROB

Don't forget your CDs.

LAURA

Those aren't mine.

ROB

Sure they are.

LAURA

They're not really, though, are

they?  I know you bought them for

me, and that was really sweet of

you, but that was when you were

trying to turn me into you.  I

can't take them, I know they'd just

sit around staring at me, and I'd

feel embarrassed by them and...

they don't fit in with the rest of

what's mine, do you understand?

That Sting record you bought for

me... that was a present for me.  I

like Sting and you hate him.  But

the rest of this stuff...

(bending down to the pile)

Who the hell is Nick Lowe?  Or Gram

Parsons?  Or the Boredoms?  I don't

know these people.  I...

ROB

Okay, okay.  I get the picture.

LAURA

I'm sorry to go on about it.  But,

I don't know, there's a lesson here

somewhere, and I want to make sure

you get it.

ROB

I got it.  You like Sting but you

don't like Gram Parsons, because

you've never heard of him.

LAURA

You're being deliberately obtuse.

ROB

I guess I am.

LAURA

Well, think about it.

She hefts the duffel bag, opens the door and exits.

ROB

Fuck.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to the camera.

ROB

What's the point in thinking about

it?  If I ever have another

relationship, I'll buy her, whoever

she is, stuff that she oughta like

but doesn't know about -- that's

what new boyfriends are for.

And hopefully I won't borrow money

from her, or have an affair, and

she won't need to have an abortion

or run away with the neighborhood,

and then there won't be anything to

think about.  Laura didn't run off

with Ian because I bought her CDs

she wasn't that keen on, and to

pretend otherwise is just... just...

psychowank.  If she thinks that,

then she's missing the Brazilian

rainforest for the twigs.  If I

can't buy the Plastic People of the

Universe's first album for new

girlfriends, then I might as well

give up, because I'm not sure I

know how to do anything else.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - MORNING

Rob walks toward the record store, and looks into a

Starbuck's window he passes.  He stops for a second, seeing

Ian at the counter, chatting merrily with the espresso

jockey.  Rob keeps walking.

INT. RECORD STORE - BACK ROOM - DAY

Rob tosses his coat down and picks up the phone and dials...

LAURA (O.S.)

(muffled, almost a whisper)

Hello.

ROB

Hey, how ya doin'?

No answer.

ROB (CONT'D)

Guess who I just saw, right by my

store?  Ian.  In Starbuck's.  Neat,

huh?

LAURA (O.S.)

I can't talk right now.

ROB

God, that's a cold and a half.

Maybe you should bet back in bed.

No response.

.	ROB (CONT'D)

Are you alright?

LAURA (O.S.)

Pigsty.

ROB

Don't worry about it.  Just get

into bed.  Worry about that when

you're better.

LAURA (O.S.)

Pig died.

ROB

Who the fuck's Pig?

LAURA (O.S.)

(louder)

My dad died.  My dad, my dad.

She hangs up.

FRONT ROOM

Rob comes out of the back, in a daze.  Dick and Barry notice.

BARRY

What's up?

ROB

Laura.  Her dad died.

BARRY

Ooh.  Drag.

Barry goes back to his comic book and burrito.

DICK

I'm sorry, Rob, that's, it's --

ROB

You're a horrible person, Barry.  I

mean it.

Barry looks up at him, shrugs, then gets an idea.

BARRY (CONT'D)

Hey.  Top five songs about death.

A Laura's Dad Tribute list.

Nobody can help thinking about it.

BARRY (CONT'D)

Okay, okay -- "Leader of the Pack."

The guy fucking cracks up on a

cycle and dies right? "Dead Man's

Curve," Jan and Dean...

DICK

Did you know that after that song

was recorded, Jan himself crashed

his --

BARRY

-- It was Dean, you fucking idiot.

ROB

It was Jan, and it was a long time

after--

BARRY

Whatever.  Okay. "Tell Laura I Love

Her." That'd bring the house down.

Laura's mom could sing it.

ROB

Fuck off, Barry.

BARRY

I'd want "One Step Beyond" by

Madness.  And "You Can't Always Get

What You Want."

ROB

Because it's in The Big Chill.

BARRY

Haven't seen it.

ROB

Liar.  We saw it in the Lawrence

Kasdan double-bill with Body Heat.

BARRY

Oh.  Right.  But I'd forgotten

about that.  I wasn't biting the

idea.

ROB

Not really.

The phone RINGS.  Rob picks it up.

ROB (CONT'D)

Record Exchange.

INTERCUT - IAN'S APARTMENT

Laura is curled up on the couch.  Dick and Barry keep listing.

LAURA

I'm sorry.

ROB

No, no.  When are you going home?

LAURA

In a minute.  When I get it together.

BARRY

(to Dick)

What about Sabbath?  Or Nirvana?

They're into death.

Rob tries to signal to them to shut up but they don't see

him.  He moves as far away as the cord will let me.

ROB

Can I do anything?

DICK

"Abraham, Martin, and John." That's

a nice one.

BARRY

"Somebody's Gonna Die" by Blitz.

"Bella Lugosi's Dead," Bauhaus.

It's got that creepy Halloween

feeling.

LAURA

No.  No.  Mom wants you to come to

the funeral.  It's on Friday.

ROB

Me?

LAURA

My dad liked you.  And Mom never

told him we'd split, because he

wasn't up to it and... oh, I don't

know.  I don't really understand it.

I think she thinks he'll be able to

see what's going on.  It's like...

(small laugh)

He's been through so much, what

with dying and everything, that she

doesn't want to upset him any more

than she has to.

ROB

Do you want me to be there?

LAURA

I don't care.  As long as you don't

expect me to hold your hand.

Rob is silent.

LAURA (CONT'D)

Look, are you coming or not?

ROB

Yes, of course.

LAURA

Liz'll give you a lift.  She knows

where to go and everything... I

don't have time to talk, Rob.  I've

got too much to do.

ROB

Sure.  I'll see you on Friday.

She hangs up.

BARRY

(to the tune of

"Candle In the Wind")

"Goodbye Laura's dad/blah blah la

di da di da/

(belting it out)

Seems to me/you lived your life/like

a dentist in the wind.../

Rob stomps toward Barry, who jumps over the counter to keep

singing --

INT. LIZ'S CAR - DAY

THUNDERCLAPS and RAIN.  Rob is in a somber suit, looking

through the windshield wipers as Liz drives.

ROB

So the minister says nice things,

and then, what, we all troop

outside and they bury him?

LIZ

It's a crematorium.

ROB

You're kidding.  A crematorium?

Jesus.

LIZ

What difference does it make?

ROB

Is Ray going?

LIZ

No.  They don't know him.  And Ken

liked you.  Rob, Ken didn't die for

your benefit, you know.  It's like

everybody's a supporting actor in

the film of your life story.

ROB

Isn't that how it is for everybody?

INT. CHAPEL TWO

Liz and Rob sit in the back of the dark, smallish

nondenominational room.  At the front is a coffin, resting

on a stand.  Laura, her younger sister JO, and her mother

sit in the front row, listening to the MINISTER.

MINISTER

...Now and forever, Amen.

He nods "offstage," and a muffled mechanical noise is heard.

The coffin begins to lower through a trap door beneath it.

A low, baleful human HOWL is heard, starting quietly but

gaining in volume.

ROB (V.O.)

I hear something in Laura's voice,

but I know what it is, and at that

moment I want to go to her and

offer to become a different person,

to remove all trace of what is me,

as long as she will let me look

after her and try to make her feel

better...

INT. CHAPEL PARLOR

Rob stays back, watching mourners approach Laura and her

mother, hugging them.  After awhile, Laura sees Rob through

the throng, hanging back.  She breaks through and to him,

holding him close for a long time...

ROB (V.O.)

...And when she let's go of me, I

feel I don't need to become a

different person.  It's happened

already.

INT. LAURA'S PARENTS' HOUSE - AFTERNOON

A cozy old Victorian house, full of things -- furniture,

paintings, ornaments, plants -- which don't go together but

which have obviously been chosen with care and taste.  Rob

and Liz stand, drinking wine.  Jo approaches them.

LIZ

(to Jo)

How are you?

JO

I'm all right, I suppose.  And

Mom's not too bad.  But Laura... I

dunno.

LIZ

She's had a pretty rough few weeks

already, without this.  It's hard

when you're putting all of your

efforts into one part of your life

and it doesn't work out.

She glances at Rob, embarrassed.

ROB

(sincere)

Don't mind me.  No problem.  Just

pretend you're talking about

somebody else.

Jo smiles, Liz gives him a look.

LIZ

We are talking about somebody else.

Laura.  Laura and Ray, actually.

Rob begins to turn red.  Anger, sorrow, everything else

building.

ROB

Enough, Liz.

LIZ

Enough of what?

ROB

(getting louder)

I know I can't speak now because

Laura's father died, and I just

have to take it because otherwise

I'm a bad guy, with the emphasis on

guy, self-centered.  Well, I'm

fucking not, not all the time,

anyway, I'm really sorry Jo.

(lowering his voice)

But you know, Liz... I can either

stick up for myself or believe

everything you say about me and end

up hating myself.  And maybe you

think I should, but it's not much

of a life, you know?

LIZ

Maybe I've been a little unfair.

But is this really the time?

ROB

Only because it's never the time.

I can't go on apologizing my whole

life, you know?

LIZ

If by "we" you are referring to

men, then I have to say that just

the once would do.

Rob looks around the room, beginning to hyperventilate and

near tears.  He sees Laura in a corner of the room surrounded

by four or five mourners.  He crosses to them and breaks

through to her.

ROB

I'm sorry.

He breaks away from her and slips out the front door.

EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - AFTERNOON

So darkened by weather that it is almost night, raining

torrents and big sheets.  Rob emerges from the front door of

Laura's parents' house and begins walking down the street,

hands thrust into his pockets.  The rain almost immediately

soaks him.

EXT. ANOTHER STREET

In the distance, Rob runs toward us.  As he gets to us we

move with him down the street.  He is drenched.  We hear the

rain, and his ragged breath.  Headlights appear behind him

and backlight him, getting brighter as the sound of an

engine gets louder.  Rob takes a look over his shoulder,

looks desperately left and right, and vaults himself over a

small brick wall and into a flower bed, landing on his back

in the black wet earth.

The big drops of rain splash mud on his face, and he burrows

deeper into the dirt and flowers with his back, panting and

staring up at the sky.  Off-camera the car engine catches

up, and a door opens and shuts.  He sighs and shuts his

eyes...

He opens his eyes again, to see Laura's face, wet as well,

staring down at him.  It is difficult to distinguish rain

from tears.

LAURA

Are you going to lie in that flower

bed all night?

ROB

Uh... No.

But Rob keeps lying there.  Laura pulls herself to a sitting

position on the wall just above him.

LAURA

You're soaking.

ROB

Mmnn.

LAURA

You're also an idiot.

Rob pulls his muddy self to his feet and sits on the wall

next to her.

ROB

I can see why you say that.  Look,

I'm sorry.  I really am.  The last

thing I wanted was... that's why I

left, because... I lost it, and I

didn't want to blow my top in

there, and... look, the reason I

fucked everything up was because I

was scared.  I just wanted you to

know, that's all.

LAURA

Thank you.  I appreciate it.  I

can't reciprocate.

ROB

What do you mean?

.	LAURA

I didn't mess things up because I

was scared.  I slept with Ray

because I was sick of you.  And I

needed something to snap me out of

it.

ROB

Sure, I understand.  Look, I don't

want to take up any more of your

time.  You get back, and I'll wait

here for a bus.

LAURA

I don't want to go back.

ROB

What do you want to do?

LAURA

C'mon.

They swing their legs over the wall and walk to Laura's VW.

INT. LAURA'S CAR - NIGHT

They drive sort of aimlessly through Laura's old neighborhood.

Laura sees something on her left, and makes a sudden turn up

a narrow road through some overgrown trees.  They come to a

stop in a formerly paved clearing, looking out on a field

with an old abandoned school on the other side.  Laura shuts

down the engine.

ROB

When are you going back?

LAURA

I don't know.  Sometime.  Later.

Listen, Rob, would you have sex

with me?

ROB

What?

LAURA

I want to feel something else than

this.  It's either that or I go

home and put my hand in the fire.

Unless you want to stub cigarettes

out on my arm.

ROB

I've only got a couple left.  I'm

saving them for later.

LAURA

It'll have to be sex, then.

She pulls herself over him, staddling him in the passenger

seat and kissing his neck.  She pauses and regards him from

above.

LAURA

Hello.  It doesn't seem so long ago

that I looked at you from here.

ROB

Hi.

LAURA

I knew there was a reason I wore a

skirt today.

Laura reaches down and unzips his pants, as they keep kissing.

ROB

You know, with Ray...

LAURA

Oh, Rob, we're not going to go

through that again.

ROB

No, no.  It's not... are you still

on the pill?

LAURA

Yes, of course.  There's nothing to

worry about.

ROB

I didn't mean that.  I mean... was

that all you used?

Laura looks at him, motionless, then begins to cry.

ROB (CONT'D)

Look, we can do other things.

LAURA

I lived with you.  You were my

partner just a few weeks ago and

now you're worried I might kill

you, and you're entitled to worry.

Isn't that a terrible thing?  Isn't

that sad?

She rolls off of him into her seat.  They sit there in

silence, watching the rain run down the windshield.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

Later, I wonder if I was really

worried about where Ian has been.

I have no idea where he's been, and

that gives me every right to insist

on protection.  But in truth, it

was the power that interested me

more than the fear.  I wanted to

hurt her, on this day of all days,

just because it's the first time

since she's left that I've been

able to.

INT. BAR - LATER

Rob and Laura lean back in a booth, facing each other.  We

get that feeling that not another word has been spoken since

we last saw them.

ROB

Laura...

LAURA

I'm too tired not to go out with you.

Rob leans forward.

ROB

So if you had a bit more energy

we'd stay split.  But things being

how they are, what with you wiped

out, you'd like us to get back

together.

LAURA

(nodding)

Everything's too hard.  Maybe

another time I would have the guts

to be on my own, but not now I don't.

ROB

What about Ian?

LAURA

Ray's a disaster.  I don't know

what that was all about, except

that sometimes you need someone to

lob into the middle of a bad

relationship like a hand grenade, I

guess, and blow it all apart.

ROB

Mission accomplished.

LAURA

I know it's not very romantic, but

there will be romance again at some

stage, I'm sure.  I just... I need

you, Rob.  That's it.  And we know

each other and we care for each

other, and you've made it clear

that you want me back, so...

She looks up at him.

LAURA (CONT'D)

Let's go home.  Okay?

ROB

Okay.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

But wouldn't you know it?  Suddenly

I feel panicky, and sick, and I

want to run around and sleep with

female recording artists...

CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - MORNING

Post-lovemaking.  Rob and Laura lie on their backs.

ROB

C'mon.  I want to know.

LAURA

Want to know what, exactly?

ROB

What it was like.

LAURA

It was like sex.  What else could

it be like?

ROB

Was it like good sex or was it like

bad sex?

LAURA

What's the difference?

ROB

You know the difference.

LAURA

Look, we're okay now.  We just had

a nice time.  Let's leave it at that.

ROB

Okay, that's cool, okay.  But the

nice time we just had... was it

nicer, as nice, or less nice than

the nice times you were having a

couple of weeks ago?

Laura is silent.

ROB (CONT'D)

Oh, c'mon, Laura.  Just say

something.  Lie, if you want.  It'd

stop me asking you questions and

it'd make me feel better.

LAURA

Well I was gonna lie and now I

can't, because you'd know I was

lying.

ROB

Well why the fuck would you want to

lie, anyway?

LAURA

To make you feel better.

ROB

Oh, great...

Rob begins to get out of bed.  She grabs his hand and pulls

him back down.

LAURA

Look, Rob.  If great sex was an

important as you think it is, and

if I was having great sex with him,

then we wouldn't be lying here now.

And that is my last word on the

subject, okay?

ROB

Okay.

She pulls him close and they lie there, the matter seemingly

settled.

LAURA

I wish your penis was as big as

his, though.

He turns slowly to her.  A giggle from her turns into a

laugh, then a howl, a roar --

EXT. LAKEFRONT - TWILIGHT

Rob and Laura walk the cement breakfront.

LAURA

... Like Mexico.  Or Jamaica.  Or

New York, even.

ROB

Hey, great idea.  What I'll do is,

tomorrow I'll get a hold of a box

full of mint Elvis Presley 78s on

the Sub label, and I'll pay for it

that way.

LAURA

I'll pay for you.  Even though you

owe me money.  We have to do

something with the money I earn.  I

need to.  I deserve it.  You can

just think of it as winning the

lottery.

ROB

Fantastic.  The Girlfriend Lottery.

LAURA

Money does not matter.  I do not

care how much you earn.  I'd just

like you to be a little happier in

your work, but beyond that you can

do what you like.

.	ROB

But it wasn't supposed to be like

this.  When I met you we were the

same people and now we're not, and...

LAURA

How?  How were we the same people?

ROB

Well, you were the kind of person

who came to the Artful Dodger and I

was the kind of person who deejayed

at the Artful Dodger.  You wore

jeans and T-shirts, and so did I.

And I still do, and you don't.

LAURA

Because I'm not allowed to.  I

still do, after work.  So, what?

Should we just break up?  Is that

what you're saying?  Because if you

are, I'm going to run out of

patience.

ROB

No, but...

LAURA

But what?

ROB

But why doesn't it matter that

we're not the same people we used

to be?

LAURA

You haven't changed so much as a

pair of socks in the years I've

known you.  If we've grown apart,

then I'm the one who's done the

growing, and all I've done is

change jobs.

ROB

And hairstyles and clothes and

attitude and friends and...

LAURA

I can't go to work with my hair

dyed pink.  And I can afford to go

shopping more now, and I've met a

couple people I like over the last

year or so.

ROB

You're tougher.

LAURA

More confident, maybe.

ROB

Harder.

LAURA

Less neurotic.  Are you intending

to stay the same for the rest of

your life?

ROB

I'm alright.

LAURA

Yeah, you're alright.  But you're

certainly not happy.  So what

happens if you get happy?  And yes

I know that's the title of an Elvis

Costello album, I use the reference

deliberately to catch your attention.

Should we split up because I'm used

to you being miserable?  What

happens if you, I don't know, start

you're own record label, and it's a

success?  Time for a new girlfriend?

ROB

You're being stupid.

LAURA

How?  What would be the difference

between you having a record label

and me going from legal aid to

private practice?

Rob is silent.

LAURA

All I'm saying is, you have to

allow for things to happen to

people, most of all to yourself.

Otherwise, what's the use?

ROB

No use.

INT./EXT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob comes out of the stock room and walks toward the counter

where Dick and Barry stare at the tape deck like two

concerned doctors, listening to a song that is raw and moody

and lyrical -- Minor Threat meets Brian Eno, if that's

possible.  Rob joins them in contemplation.

ROB

What is this.

DICK

It's Vince and Justin.

ROB

Who's that?

BARRY

The little skate-fuckers.

ROB

No way.

BARRY

Yes way.  It's really...

Rob and Dick look at him, ready to pounce --

BARRY (CONT'D)

(pained to say it)

It's really fucking good.

Dick and Barry look to Rob, who continues to just listen...

He takes a deep breath and walks to the front door and out,

seemingly with a mission.

Vince and Justin are doing noisy skate tricks against the

curb across the street.  When they see Rob they stop, get

ready to flee.  He walks across to them.  Dick comes out and

hovers in the background.

ROB

Your tape.  It's good.

They mumble thanks.

ROB (CONT'D)

It's rough.  But it shows promise.

We record a couple of songs right,

in a studio.  I'll take care of the

rest.  I'll put out your record.

Any profits after recouping expenses

get split down the middle, between

us and you guys.

VINCE

Wait a minute.  Island Records

charged U2 a million five against

their overhead for one plane ride.

ROB

We're not there yet, Justin.

VINCE

I'm Vince.

ROB

Whatever.

He begins to move toward the store.  Vince and Justin look

at each other.  Rob gets to the door but stops and turns.

ROB (CONT'D)

Hey.  What's the name of your band?

JUSTIN

The Kinky Wizards.

ROB

What?

VINCE

We saw this ad in the personals for

two swingers lookin' for a

Renaissance fair.

ROB

Nice.

VINCE

What's the name of your label?

Rob looks at them.  Then at Dick.  Then through the window

at Barry, inside looking out.  Then at his own reflection in

the window.  Then back at them.

ROB

Broken Records.  Welcome aboard.

Rob walks back inside.  He seems to be shaking a little.

BARRY

What the fuck is that?

ROB

What?

BARRY

I heard you, man.  Don't give me

that "what" shit.  You just told

them that you're gonna put out a

record with them.

ROB

So?  You even said they're good.

BARRY

HELLO.  DO YOU SEE ANYONE ELSE

around here with a band, Mr.

Branson?  Mr. Phil Spector?

Rob waves him off and disappears into the stock room.  Laura

enters.

LAURA

Hey, Barry.

BARRY

Oh, hi.

LAURA

Where's Rob?

BARRY

The Malcolm McClaren of Clark

Street is in his executive suite.

Do you have an appointment?

LAURA

What are you talking about?

BARRY

Just that Rob seems to think it

would be wiser to start a record

label by putting out a record with

business-crippling Nazi Youth

shoplifters than with someone he

knows in his bitter jealous heart

is a musical visionary.  That's all.

Laura puts it together, and smiles.  She goes to the back

and crack the door, finding Rob sitting on a box, thinking.

ROB

Hi.

LAURA

Hi.  What are you doing?

ROB

Nothing.

LAURA

Wanna go to dinner?

ROB

Where?

LAURA

At Paul and Miranda's.  Paul from

work.

ROB

Oh.  Well.  We don't really get

along.  Paul and I.

LAURA

I know.  But you've never met.  It

just seems like a stone unturned in

your relationship with him.

ROB

Ha.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

We're at a point where I can't

really walk away from gauntlets she

might throw down, and so I go.  And

wouldn't you know it, I sort of

fall in love with Paul and

Miranda -- with what they have, and

the way they treat each other, and

the way they make me feel as if I'm

the new center of their world.  I

think they're great, and I want to

see them twice a week, every week,

for the rest of my life.  Only

right at the end of the evening do

I realize I've been set up.

INT. PAUL AND MIRANDA'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

After dinner.  Rob ambles in from the dining room.  Laura

close behind.  He looks through the bookshelves until he

finds a meager little grouping of CDs.  He moves up to them

and scans the titles: Tina Turner.  Billy Joel.  Kate Bush.

Pink Floyd.  Simply Red.  The Beatles.  The Windham Hill

Sampler...

PAUL

Lame, right?

Rob turns around to see PAUL behind him.

ROB

Oh, I don't know.  The Beatles are

okay.

Paul laughs.

PAUL

We're kinda out of date.

ROB

Hey, to each his own, I say.

PAUL

Maybe we can come by your store and

you can hook us up.

ROB

Sure, sure.  Any time.

LAURA

Better hurry, though, Paul.  Rob

started a record label, so he's

gonna be in the shop less and less.

Rob looks at her.

CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

as they come in the door.

LAURA

..."To each his own!" Unbelievable!

You!  Rob Gordon said that.  You

even sounded like you meant it.

They throw their jackets over a chair.  Rob turns on the CD

player and "Call Me A Liar" by Palace begins to play.

ROB

(smiling)

You did that deliberately.  You

knew all along I'd like them.  It

was a trick.

LAURA

I tricked you into meeting some

people you'd think were great.  I

thought it would be fun to introduce

you to someone with a Tina Turner

album and then see whether you

still felt the same way.

She moves to Rob and wraps her arms around him.  They look

deeply at each other.  She breaks away from him and walks

into the bedroom.  He turns off the stereo and follows her.

EXT. CLARK STREET - MORNING

Rob walks to work, drinking his coffee.  He stops and backs

up a few feet, and stares at a poster on a plywood board-up.

"'I SOLD MY MOM'S WHEELCHAIR'/the debut single from The

Kinky Wizards/on Broken Records/Record release party July 20

at The Artful Dodger/Featuring the triumphant return of DJ

ROB GORDON/"Dance Music For Old People"

Rob scowls, and storms off.

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob paces, Laura sits on the couch, smiling.

LAURA

I called Dan Koretzky because he --

ROB

Has Drag City Records, I know, I

know.  You told Dan Koretzky about

this?

LAURA

Yeah, and he said it's a good way

to break out a record.  Especially

for what he said, and I quote,

"would be a highly anticipated

event, locally." He helped me put

out a press release.

ROB

WHAT?

LAURA

Just local, of course.

ROB

And the "triumphant return of DJ

Rob Gordon?" "Triumphant?" "Return?"

.	LAURA

I had that idea when I was living

with Ian and it was such a good

idea that I was annoyed we weren't

together anymore.  It might even be

why I came back.

ROB

You had no right.  Supposing I was

doing something that couldn't be

cancelled?

LAURA

What do you ever do that can't be

cancelled?

ROB

That's not the point.  I mean, what

if the single isn't done in time?

LAURA

Barry said its done.

ROB

Barry?  Barry knows about this?

LAURA

Yeah.  His band is playing a set.

Rob wheels on her.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob and Barry.

ROB

Like fuck you are.

BARRY

Laura said we could.  If we helped

out with the posters and stuff.

And we did.  And we are.

ROB

I'll give you 10% of the door if

you don't play.

BARRY

We're getting that anyway.

ROB

What is she doing?  Okay, 20%.

BARRY

No.  We need the gig.

ROB

110%.  That's my final offer.  I'm

not kidding.  That's how much it

means to me not to hear you play.

BARRY

We're not as bad as you think, Rob.

ROB

You couldn't be.  Look, Barry.

There's going to be people from

Laura's work there, people who own

dogs and babies and Tina Turner

albums.  How are you going to cope

with them?

BARRY

We're not called Barrytown anymore,

by the by.  They got sick of the

Barry/Barrytown thing.  We're

called SDM.  Sonic Death Monkey.

ROB

Sonic Death Monkey.

BARRY

What do you think?  Dick likes it.

ROB

Barry, you're over thirty years old.

You owe it to yourself and your

friends and to your parents not to

sing in a group called Sonic Death

Monkey.

BARRY

I owe it to myself to go right to

the edge, Rob, and this group does

exactly that.  Over the edge, in

fact.

ROB

You'll be going over the fucking

edge if you come anywhere near me

next Friday night.

BARRY

That's what we want.  Reaction.

And if Laura's bourgeois lawyer

friends can't take it, then fuck

'em.  Let 'em riot, we can handle

it.  We'll be ready.

Barry wanders off laughing.

CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Rob and Laura.

LAURA

They'll go on early.  Nobody will

even be there yet and I told them

they can't play for more than a

half hour.

ROB

It's no joke.  I'm responsible for

what happens, you know.

Embarrassment aside, there's a lot

of money and effort in this, at

least by my standards.  I have to

put down a deposit for the room.  I

have to pay the pressing plant for

the records, sleeve them, sticker

them --

LAURA

We took care of that.

Rob's brow furrows.

LAURA (CONT'D)

Barry and Dick and me.  Look in the

bedroom.

Rob goes to the bedroom door and opens it.  It's sort of

like Christmas: hundreds of Kinky Wizards CD singles,

painstakingly packaged and stacked on the bed.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

I suddenly feel choked up.  It's

not the money, it's the way she's

thought of everything: one morning

I woke up to find her going through

my records, pulling out things that

she remembered me playing when I

deejayed and putting them into the

little carrying cases that I used

to use and put away in a closet

somewhere years ago.

She knew I needed a kick in the ass.

She also knew how happy I was when

I used to deejay.  From which every

angle I examine it, it still looks

as though she's done all of this

because she loves me.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT

Rob turns from the bedroom and goes to Laura, putting his

arms around her.

ROB

I'm sorry I've been acting like a

jerk.  I do appreciate what you've

done for me, and I know you've done

it for the best possible reasons,

and I do love you, even though I

act like I don't.

LAURA

That's okay.  You seem pissed off

all the time, though.

ROB

I know.  I don't get it.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

But if I had to take a wild guess,

I'd say that I'm pissed because I

know I'm stuck with Laura, bound to

her, and I don't like it.  That

dreamy anticipation you have when

you're fifteen or twenty or thirty

even, that the most perfect person

in the world might walk into your

store or office or friend's party

at any moment... That's all gone, I

think, and that's enough to piss

anybody off.  Laura is who I am

now, and it's no good pretending

otherwise...

CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob is standing shelves.  A very pretty young woman,

CAROLINE, comes through the door and looks around.  She sees

Rob.

CAROLINE

Excuse me?

Rob looks up and takes her in like a dish in a window.

ROB

May I help you?

CAROLINE

I'm looking for Deejay Rob Gordon.

ROB

Uh.  That's me.

CAROLINE

I'm Caroline Fortis from The Reader.

I want to do a story on you.

ROB

Right.  Why?

CAROLINE

Well, I used to go to the Dodger on

your nights, and I saw you're doing

it again and that your putting out

a record, and it's sort of a then-

and-now story against the backdrop

of the Chicago music scene with the

emphasis on now.

ROB

Oh.  Okay.

CAROLINE

I thought I would ask you a few

questions if that's okay.

ROB

Huh.  You used to come to the club?

I shouldn't have let you in.  You

must have only been about sixteen.

Rob realizes what he must be sounding like.  He blushes and

retreats.

ROB

What I mean is, I didn't mean you

look young.  You don't.  You don't

look old either.  You look just as

old as you are.  A bit younger

maybe, but not a lot.  Not much.

Just right.

CAROLINE

So.  Is now a good time?

Rob looks around: there is absolutely nothing going on in

the store.  He nods.  She pulls out a pad and pencil.

CAROLINE

Right.  So.  You must have an

enormous record collection.

ROB

Yeah.  I could show it to you if

you want to come over and see it.

He winces immediately.

CAROLINE

Yeah, well... Let's see... What are

you're all-time top five records?

ROB

Pardon me?

CAROLINE

Your desert island top-five.

ROB

Oh boy... In the club, or at home?

CAROLINE

Is there a difference?

ROB

(a little too shrill)

OF COURSE... Well yeah, a bit. "Sin

City" by the Flying Burrito Brothers

is an all-time top five, but I

wouldn't play it at the club.  It's

a country-rock ballad.  Everybody'd

go home.

CAROLINE

Nevermind.  Any five.  So four more.

ROB

What do you mean, four more?

CAROLINE

Well if one of them is this "Sin

City" thing --

ROB

Can I go home and work this out and

let you know?  In a week or so?

CAROLINE

Look if you can't think of anything,

it doesn't matter.  I'll do one.

My five favorite from the old days

at the Dodger.

Rob is aghast, humiliated, quietly outraged.

ROB

Oh, I'm sure I can manage

something... "Sin City." "New

Rose," by The Damned. "Hit It and

Quit It" by Funkadelic.

"Shipbuilding," Elvis Costello,

Japanese import, no horns, or

different horns, anyway... um...

"Mystery Train" by Elvis Presley...

And... "Spaced Cowboy" by Sly and

the Family Stone.  A bit

controversial, I know, but...

CAROLINE

Fine.  That's great.

ROB

Is that it?

CAROLINE

Well, I wouldn't mind a quick chat,

if you got the time.

ROB

Sure, but is that it for the list?

CAROLINE

That's five.  So.  Why did you

decide to deejay again?

ROB

Well it was a friend's idea,

really, and the record release

party seemed like a good place to

do it.  So...

(looking over her pad

at the list)

I should really put a James Brown

in there --

CAROLINE

Nice friend.

ROB

Yeah.

CAROLINE

What's his name?

ROB

Who?  Oh.  My friend.  My friend is

Laura.  A girl.  A friend who's a

girl.

CAROLINE

"Music for Old People." What does

that mean?

ROB

Look, I'm sorry about this, but I'd

like "the Upsetter" by Lee "Scratch"

Perry, in there.  Instead of "Sin

City."

She scribbles and writes.

CAROLINE

Okay. "Dance Music For Old People?"

ROB

Oh, you know... a lot of people

aren't too old for clubs but

they're too old for acid jazz and

garage and ambient and all that.

They want to hear old funk and Stax

and New Wave and Old School Hip Hop

and some new stuff all together and

there's nowhere for them.

CAROLINE

And the new label?  And the Kinky

Wizards?

ROB

Oh, well, the Kinky Wizards are --

you know what?  Why don't I just

make you a tape?

CAROLINE

Would you?  Really?  Wow.  I could

have deejay Rob Gordon play in my

own home.

ROB

Haha.  Right.  It's no problem.  I

love making tapes.

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

A good compilation tape, like

breaking up, is hard to do and

takes ages longer than it might

seem.  You gotta kick off with a

killer, to hold the attention.

Then you have to take it up a

notch, but not blow your wad, so

maybe cool it off a notch, and you

can't put the same artist twice on

the tape, except if some subtle

point or lesson or theme involved,

and even then not the two of them

in a row, and you can't woo somebody

with Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow

Taxi" and then bash their head off

with something like GBH's "City

Baby Attacked by Rats," and... oh,

there are a lot of rules.  Anyway,

I worked hard at this one.

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Rob sits Indian-style on the floor in front of the stereo.

He has a pad of paper with scrawled titles and cross-outs,

and is surrounded by piles of CDs and records.

LAURA

Who's that for?

Rob winces, turns.  He's busted.

ROB

This?  Oh, just that woman who

interviewed me for The Reader.

Carol?  Caroline?  Something like

that.

Laura turns and walks out of the room.

.INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob is tucked into the corner, on the phone.

ROB

Hi, Caroline... Oh, it's Rob.

Yeah, listen, I have a new list for

you and -- Oh.  Yes.  Of course...

Well maybe next week they could

print a, uh, retraction.  Or a

correction.  Because the list I

have now it really much more --

right.  Okay.  Anyway, I have your

tape.  That's right.  Shall I mail

it to you?  Or... would you like to

have a drink?

CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

ROB

How are you not going to fall for

someone who wants to interview you?

Now Caroline is all I can think

about.  And in the daydreams I

imagine every detail, the entire

story of our future relationship,

until suddenly I realize that

there's nothing left to actually,

like, happen.  I've done it all,

lived through it all in my head.  I

know the whole plot, the ending,

and the good parts.  Now I'd have

to watch it all over again in real

time, and where's the fun in that?

And fucking--when is it all going

to stop?  Am I going to jump from

rock to rock for the rest of my

life until there aren't any rocks

left?  Am I going to bolt every

time I get itchy feet?  Because I

get them about once a quarter,

along with the store's tax bill.

I've been thinking with my guts

since I was fourteen years old and,

frankly speaking, I've come to the

conclusion that my guts have shit

for brains.

You know what's wrong with Laura,

what my problem is?  What's wrong

with Laura is that I'll never see

her for the first or second or

third time.  That's all.  Fuck it.

I'll probably mail the tape.

Probably.

CUT TO:

INT. NORTH SIDE TAVERN - DAY

Rob sits at a table in the bar, nervous.  He watches the

door, sits up straight when it opens, and follows someone

with his eyes, all the way to his table.  She sits.  It's

Laura.

LAURA

A drinking lunch on a school day.

What a nice surprise.

Rob says nothing.

LAURA (CONT'D)

Are you worried about tomorrow night?

ROB

Not really.

He plays with his drink.

LAURA

Are you going to talk to me, or

shall I get my paper out?

ROB

I'm going to talk to you.

LAURA

Right.

He plays with his drink some more.

LAURA (CONT'D)

What are you going to talk to me

about?

ROB

I'm going to talk to you about

whether you want to get married or

not.  To me.

LAURA

Ha ha ha.  Hoo hoo hoo.

ROB

I mean it.

LAURA

I know.

ROB

Oh, well thanks a fucking bunch.

LAURA

I'm sorry.  But two days ago you

were in love with that girl who

interviewed you for The Reader,

weren't you?

ROB

Not in love, exactly, but...

LAURA

Well forgive me if I don't think of

you as the world's safest bet.

ROB

Would you marry me if I was?

LAURA

No.  Probably not.

ROB

Right.  Okay, then.  Shall we go?

LAURA

Don't sulk.  What brought all this

on?

ROB

I don't know.

LAURA

Very persuasive.

ROB

Are you persuadable?

LAURA

No.  I don't think so.  I'm just

curious about how one goes from

making tapes for one person to

marriage proposals to another in

two days.  Fair enough?

ROB

Fair enough.

LAURA

So?

ROB

I'm just sick of thinking about it

all the time.

LAURA

About what?

ROB

This stuff.  Love and marriage.  I

want to think about something else.

LAURA

I've changed my mind.  That's the

most romantic thing I've ever heard.

I do.  I will.

ROB

Shut up.  I'm only trying to explain.

LAURA

I mean, maybe you're right.  But

were you really expecting me to say

yes?

ROB

I dunno.  Didn't think about it,

really.  It was the asking that was

the important thing.

LAURA

Well, you've asked.

She leans over and takes his hands in hers, smiles at him.

LAURA (CONT'D)

Thank you.

INT. ARTFUL DODGER - NIGHT

TWO TURNTABLES

with the mixer in the middle. "Just Begun" by Jimmy Castor

spins on turntable #1.  A hand reaches in, and begins to

draw the slides down, quieting the music.

Rob looks up from behind the deejay table, set up amongst

the instruments.  The place is packed with people, and

everyone seems to be having a great time.

Almost everyone -- Rob sees Barry, who pretends to nod off

when Rob catches his eye, and Justin, who looks back at him

and mocks a bulimic act.  Rob gives him the finger.  He sees

Laura, and she beams at him.  He comes to the front of the

stage, and taps a microphone.

ROB

Uh, thanks for uh, coming out

tonight.  I hope you have a good

time.  And I hope you like the

record.  The one by the Kinky

Wizards.  The record that we're

having this record release party

for.

(hoots from the crowd)

Thanks.  Listen to it first, though.

(laughs)

Okay.  We'll get to that later.

Right now, I'd like to introduce...

(mumbles)

Sonic Death Monkey.

Good-natured applause.  Rob steps down and bee-lines to

Laura.  Barry and his crew mount the stage.  Rob takes a big

gulp of beer.

ROB (CONT'D)

(to Laura)

I'm an idiot.  I should have played

the record first.  This place is

about to get burned down.

LAURA

It's gonna be fine.  These people

are ready for anything.

BARRY

(dubious)

Yeah, well...

Barry stands in front of the mic, surveying the crowd with a

smile.  He and the band all wear suits and ties.

BARRY (CONT'D)

Thanks for the enthusiastic intro,

Rob.  We're not called Sonic Death

Monkey anymore, though, ladies and

gentlemen.  We might be on the

verge of becoming the Atavistics,

but we haven't decided yet.  But

tonight, we are... BARRY JIVE AND

THE UPTOWN FIVE!  ONE TWO THREE --

And they launch into Marvin Gaye's "Got To Give It Up,"

almost flawlessly faithful to the original.  Barry is

transformed -- shuffling footwork, a wide smile, and when

the intro winds up, an almost perfect falsetto.  The crowd

goes nuts, filling the floor.  Rob is stunned, begins to

smile.  Laura takes his hand and leads him out into the

crowd...

THE END.