INT. RESTAURANT. NIGHT.
A RESTAURANT IN AN UPMARKET HOTEL.
A SUAVE MIDDLE-AGED GENTLEMEN SIPS WHISKEY AT THE BAR. NICE SUIT, OPEN COLLAR, PERMATAN.
HE NOTICES AN ATTRACTIVE, WELL-DRESSED WOMAN IN HER THIRTIES, DINING ALONE.
GENT:
Oh, bartender.
BARTENDER:
Sir?
GENT:
Could you have a bottle of your house red delivered to that table?
BARTENDER:
Certainly, sir.
A WAITER DELIVERS A BOTTLE TO THE WOMAN'S TABLE.
SHE'S SHOCKED AND FLATTERED. SHE HAS AN UNHEARD EXCHANGE WITH THE WAITER.
THE GENT LICKS HIS LIPS.
THE WAITER INDICATES THE GENT.
THE WOMAN SMILES COYLY.
THE GENT RAISES HIS GLASS IN RESPONSE.
THE WOMAN TASTES THE WAITER'S PROFERRED SAMPLE, WINCES AND SENDS IT BACK.
THE WAITER SHRUGS, RETURNS TO THE BAR, HANDS THE BOTTLE TO THE GENT.
GENT:
A lady of sophisticated tastes. Intriguing. Bartender, a merlot for the lady, sil vous plait.
FADE TO:
INT. RESTAURANT. TEN MINUTES LATER.
THE GENT WITH SEVEN OPEN BOTTLES OF WINE ON THE BAR IN FRONT OF HIM.
THE WOMAN, TASTING ANOTHER WINE.
THE GENT, CLENCHING AND UNCLENCHING HIS FISTS, WILLING HER TO FIND IT SATISFACTORY.
GENT (TO HIMSELF):
Come on... like it... like it, you bitch.
THE WOMAN NODS HER APPROVAL.
GENT:
Get in!
THE WOMAN SMILES. THE GENT GETS BACK INTO CHARACTER, RAISING HIS GLASS.
HE GOES IN FOR THE KILL, PICKING UP HIS COCKTAIL AND APPROACHING THE WOMAN'S TABLE.
A BUTCH LESBIAN ENTERS.
SHE AND THE WELL-DRESSED WOMAN KISS ON THE LIPS.
THE GENT VEERS INTO THE GENTS.
