A BAR SCENE
A crowded singles bar in an urban setting. Bobby sits at a bar in a red tube dress, drinking a cosmo and swirling the straw around in his hand.
Another! Now! Bobby: BARTENDER! Another Screaming Orgasm over here.
Bartender: You’re really pouring it on.
Bobby: Fuck it, I’m drunk. And put another one on that old guy’s tab over there. He’s not even paying attention.
Mr. Blank, at the opposite end of the bar watching tv: Love ya, babe!
Bobby: Kiss my ass, limpdick. See? He didn’t even hear it. Limpdick!
Mr. Blank: (Blows kiss, winks.)
Bobby: Fuck. (downs shot)
(A stiff, tweedy middle aged man fiddling with his cell phone approaches the bar and the empty seat next to Bobby.)
Bill Martin, Michigan AD: Good evening, madam. Mind if i sit…
Bobby: Go right fucking ahead. ANOTHER! (taps empty shot glass)
Martin: Bartender, a Latour ‘64, if you’ve got it?
Bartender: (Stares, pauses, continues.) We have wine coolers.
Martin: Ooh! That sounds quite refreshing. I’ll try one.
(Turns to Bobby)
The weather has been delightful this year. Perfect for some late fall sailing, don’t you think?
Bobby: Sailing? Who the hell are you, Captain Ron? (more…)

By Crom, Josh McNeil is a happy man.









