(The action takes place at a fancy big city restaurant. The Guy and the Girl are meeting for the first time on a blind date, set up by mutual Facebook friends. The Guy is a decent looking, well-dressed man in his early thirties. He has been waiting for over an hour and he’s getting impatient. He keeps muttering, “If she doesn’t show in twenty minutes…I’ll give her five more.” The Girl is pretty as a picture, in her mid twenties. She’s one of those: women want to be her, men just want her. She should be perfect. She should be a dream. But, first of all, she’s dreadfully late.)
Girl (running into the very busy restaurant, hair disheveled, carrying one high-heeled shoe in her left hand): Oh my god! Am I late? I’m not late, am I? Am I late? (She sees her disgruntled date sitting uncomfortably alone, smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where all the waiters are bumping, purposely, into his table.) Hi! Oh my god, I am so late. Sorry- (they awkwardly shake hands, as she shuffles her purse, her cell phone, and her shoe from one hand to the other.)
Guy: Hello, nice to meet you. Ah- (He realizes he’s not shaking her hand but her shoe, and ends up holding only the heel, which apparently broke off before she entered.)
Girl: Sorry! Oh, jeez, I’m really sorry. (Takes the heel back and sticks in into her purse.) It broke on the way here. (Giggles weirdly.)
Guy: That’s ok. Shall we sit down? Let’s sit down.
Girl: Yeah, let’s. What are you drinking? (She plops down noisily, and leans back in her chair, waaay too laid back, very inelegantly.) Hey, waiter! (Shouting loudly, attracting attention of other guests.) Hey, man, will you-(she grabs the arm of a passing waiter) Dude, what gives?! Come on! What does a girl have to do to get a cold brewski in this hole? Jeez!
Guy: Sorry (to the waiter, embarrassed), can we get the menus and two…beers, I guess.
Girl (still fumbling through her purse, looking for anything, it seems): Oh man oh man oh man oh man. I’m sorry I’m late. I thought we were supposed to meet on Friday, but then you called and said it’s today-
Guy: Um, today is Friday.
Girl: No! Shut up! (She takes a long moment to check something on her cell, making the Guy feel like he shouldn’t even be there. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.) So it is…
Guy: Ahem…You look really pretty.
Girl (puts away her cell): Thank you! You look pretty too. I like a man with a little make-up.
Guy: What?! I’m not wearing any make-up.
Girl (giggles): Sure, man, your secret’s safe with me. (She winks, and then weirdly pops her eyes out at him.)
Guy: Ok…I’m not wearing any make-up, I don’t know why you’d say that to me.
Girl (looking over her shoulder for the waiter): Where is that douche? Jeez, I’m parched, man, I really need a cold one.
Guy: He’s coming. But in the meantime (he looks around uncomfortably), can you speak a little less…loudly? Everyone’s looking.
Girl (half stands up in her chair): Who, where? Why? Is there someone famous here? Dude, I luv famous people.
Guy: No, I’m talking about…never mind. Here’s the beer.
(The waiter hands them the menus and sets down two beers. The girl drinks hers in a single gulp, like water. She burps a little and then laughs, which makes a little snot come out of her nose. The Guy is flabbergasted because she wipes it off with the back of her hand.)
Girl: That was gooood. Jeez, man, drink up, it’s gonna be a long night.
Guy: That’s a lot of beer, I can’t- (But she’s pressuring him, literally forcing him to drink up by tipping back his glass, nearly knocking his teeth out; so he chokes it down, spilling a little over his shirt.)
Girl: Jeez, man, you’re an amateur!
Guy: Good god, I made a mess of myself! What the hell, can you not do that, please?
Girl: Do what now? (She’s examining the other guests, as if she’s expecting to see someone she knows.) Do you think there are any famous people here? I’d love me some famous people tonight. Maybe we can take picures (she says picures) with them. How cool would that be on your Facebook?
Guy: I don’t know if there are any famous people here. God! Can we just relax a little and talk about us for a minute.
Girl: Talk about us, huh?! Hold on there, pilgrim, I’m not ready for all that commitment jazz. Slow down, pokey, I’m still young, I’m still jazzin’ it up.
Guy: What in heaven’s name are you talking about? (He is really confused, and annoyed.)
Girl: Ooooh, do you think that guy is famous? (She’s standing up with his beer in her hand, that beer which he unfortunately couldn’t finish, and she’s pointing straight at a man sitting on the other side of the room.)
Guy: No…Can you please sit down? (He tries, unsuccessfully, to make her sit down.)
Girl: Woah, woah, woah. Jeez, man, what’s with all the touching? Keep your fingers to yourself, pokey.
Guy: Ok, I’m sorry. I just don’t think-
Girl (stopping another waiter): Can we have more of this here beer? Yeah, and a cheeseburger…No, wait, make it a meatball sandwich for me and a corn dog for my friend here. (Looks at the Guy very seriously.) I’m on a diet, but only because of work.
Waiter: Madam, we don’t serve meatball sandwiches here.
Girl: You dooon’t? Jeez, man, what kinda dump is this?
Guy: I’m sorry (to the waiter), we just need another minute. She was just kidding. She’s- (Waiter walks away in a huff.) You didn’t have to make him mad. You know how these people treat customers who upset them.
Girl: Why? Is he famous?
Guy: What? The waiter? No, why would he be famous? God, what’s with you and famous people?
Girl: Relax, pokey, I just wants to have some fun, is all.
Guy: Ok, I feel like we started– (more beer arrives; she pours it down her throat like she’s in Sahara, dying of thirst.) My god! Listen, maybe you should slow down.
Girl: Jeez, man, it’s Thursday-
Guy: Um, it’s Friday.
Girl: Yeah, man, it’s Friday night. Young people just want to have fun, like the song says. Relax, grandma. (She drinks his beer too, again.)
Guy: Look, I was just going to say that maybe we got off on the wrong foot-
Girl: I sure did! Look what happened! (She pulls that broken heel out of her purse.) I got my foot stuck a vending machine-
Guy: What?! How in god’s name did you do that?
Girl: Jeez, man, I was in a hurry. I did it for you! So don’t act like it didn’t happen to you, ever. (At this point she’s a little drunk, so she’s struggling with her choice of words.) You’re such a…serial killer!
Guy: Maybe we should do this another day. Looks like you’ve had a busy day. I just don’t feel like-
Girl: Oh, jeez, man, don’t be such a party poorper. Party poorper. (Something’s wrong with that word, she knows it; she just doesn’t know what.) Party downer.
Guy: I just feel like this may not be the best date-
Girl: What?! Best time ever! Hands down, kill me now, best time never. (She shakes her head.) Best time ever!
Guy: Are you saying this is the best date you’ve ever been on?
Girl: Humph, better than the last guy. Hey, don’t ever date people you meet on Facebook. They’re just a bunch of…joykills.
Guy: I assume you mean killjoys. And, in case you forgot, we met on Facebook. Your sister-
Girl: She’s disgusting!
Guy: Your sister?
Girl: No, man, Helen Hunt. Duh! Remember, that movie where she had her face burned off by poisonous gas-
Guy: What the hell are you talking about?
Girl: You don’t remember that? She was like this monster that killed men in their cars, and she had this, like, face disfingerment…disfingerment…disfin…she was FUGLY!
Guy (really annoyed): Why are you telling me this?
Girl (excitedly stands up and points again): ‘Cause she’s standing right over there!
(The Guy looks at an older man she’s pointed out. He does not look like Helen Hunt; decidedly not.)
Guy: That’s a man, NOT Helen Hunt. And Helen Hunt has never been…never mind, I think we’re done here. (He starts to stand up, but she’s suddenly cute as a kitten, and totally normal, holding him back.)
Girl: No, please, please don’t go. I’m sorry. I was late, and I was rushing, and now I’m making a fool out of myself. And I’m drinking too much, because I’m nervous-
Guy (completely smitten by her): No, not at all. Let’s start again, as if none of this…stuff, happened yet.
Girl: Great. Thank you so much. And again, I am sooooo sorry. I don’t usually behave like this. (She hiccups, violently.) Oh god! I think I farted too.
Girl: No, no, I was just kidding. Sorry, I’m nervous.
Guy: That’s ok, I know how it is. Shall we order? (He motions to the waiter, who reluctantly, and rolling his eyes, strolls to their table. The Guy orders something for both of them, before she has a chance to say anything.)
Girl: Thanks. I’ve never eaten here. I sure hope they’re good, I’m starving.
Guy: They are.
Girl: So, you look like a successful guy. What do you do for a living?
Guy: Well, I’m a vet-
Girl: Nooooooo! That’s so weird. My dad used to serve in the Sali-vation Army. So you’re both vets! How cool is that?!
Guy: No, I’m a veterinarian-
Girl (motioning for the waiter and more beer again): That’s nice, dear. Let’s go clubbin’ later, this place just ain’t happenin’ for me.
(The Guy puts down his head on the table, completely dejected. He hates Facebook and his friends who put him up to this. It’s going to be a long night.)