“Larry, June, And The Year Of The Cat” — A Screenplay, Part Eleven

Posted: February 7, 2013 in Uncategorized

Entire contents trademarked TM  and copyrighted (c)  by Ryan Carey, 2013. That means if you want to reproduce or use this material for any reason,  you have to ask me real nice.



LARRY is seated at the bar finishing up a beer and going over some forms. BERT is busy behind the bar capping off bottles for the evening. There is a cigarette burning away in an ashtray next to LARRY. A couple of other PATRONs at the bar are getting up form their stools and heading out for the evening. A WAITRESS is putting chairs up on tables in the background. It’s obviously just past closing time.

LARRY (to BERT) : Well, was a good night by the look of things.

BERT turns to face LARRY

BERT : Yeah, gotta say that it was.

BERT glances down at the forms LARRY has placed before him on the bar.

BERT CON’T : Careful, ya don’t wanna get those wet.

LARRY : Yeah, yeah — they should be fine. Need ya ta sign a couple o’ these when ya got a minute.

BERT : Shit like that makes me nervous. Feel like Ronnie oughtta be doin’ it.

LARRY takes a drag off his cigarette, exhales, puts it back in the ashtray.

LARRY : Take it he doesn’t come around much?

BERT : Ya never saw ‘im this whole weekend, did ya?

LARRY swigs down a sip of beer before speaking.

LARRY : Can’t say as I did.

BERT : There’s yer answer.

BERT gestures toward the beer tap with a nudge of his arm.

BERT CON’T : One more before I shut ‘er off for the night?

LARRY looks at his near-empty beer glass, picks his cigarette up from the ashtray, takes a long drag, exhales.

LARRY : Why not? If it’s not keepin’ ya from the wife an’ kids.

BERT : Actually, it is. An’ fer that I’m grateful.

LARRY : Gotta imagine they’e all asleep by the time ya get home.

BERT fills a beer glass from the tap.

BERT : They are. But I’m still grateful.

LARRY takes another drag and exhales before placing his cigarette back in the ashtray and speaking.

LARRY : And to think, last night you couldn’t wait to get home.

BERT slides the full beer glass over to LARRY.

BERT : What a diff’rnce a day makes, huh?

LARRY : I can relate.

BERT : Your day don’t sound too bad from what I can tell.

LARRY takes a sip off his beer.

LARRY : No, I don’t — shit, my day wasn’t bad. Just mean I can relate to one day makin’ a big difference.

BERT : I told ya — don’t get too far ahead o’ yerself.

LARRY : Don’t sweat it, message received.

BERT : Optimism — it’ll kill ya every time, my friend.

LARRY finishes the last drag on his cigarette, puts it out in the ashtray.

LARRY : Okay, I’ll bite — what’d she? Used ta be a guy or somethin’?

BERT pours himself a beer.

BERT : Nothin’ like that. Nothin’ like that at all. Didn’t she tell ya she had a kid?

LARRY : Yeah, saw his picture as a teenager. I assume he’s off at college or somethin’?

BERT takes a hearty gulp of beer.

BERT : I’m gonna shut up about the whole thing, said too much already. Just hadda make sure you knew she was born female.(grins slightly) Can’t blame ya fer askin’ though — s’pose ya never know up in Minneapolis.

LARRY takes a drink from his beer glass.

LARRY : Man, you guys must think we’re Soddom an’ fuckin’ Gomorrah up there.

BERT : Not really. Just bustin’ yer onions again. See if yer gettin’ any better at pickin’ it up. (pauses) Yer not.

The WAITRESS approaches the bar, hands BERT a stack of receipts.

WAITRESS : Here ya go.

BERT takes the receipts and places them in a bank deposit sack he has out next to the cash register.

BERT : I’ll cash ya out in a minute.

WAITRESS : ‘K. I’m ‘nna have a smoke out back.

BERT : Good enough.

The WAITRESS exits out the rear door. BERT returns his attention to LARRY.

BERT CON’T :Yer shit all unplugged an’ all that?

LARRY takes a swig of beer.

LARRY : Yeah, I’m pretty much all ready to go once you sign this this  stuff.

BERT looks down at the forms again, grabbing a pen from a cup next to the register.

BERT : What’s all this say, then?

LARRY : Just that I was here, performed services as described, an’ left with all my gear in the same shape it started in. Absolves the bar from any damages an’ us from any chance of the owner tryin’ ta stiff us.

BERT : Thought he paid up front.

LARRY (grinning) : That what ‘e told ya?

BERT : Shit — he didn’t tell me a thing. When to expect ya, that was about it.

BERT rummages through the papers and hastily jots down his signature on three separate forms near the bottom.

BERT CON’T : So — we’re all square then?

LARRY takes a sip of beer.

LARRY : We’re all square then.

BERT has a drink, as well.

BERT : So — what’d ya make of our little place, then?

LARRY turns in his barstool, surveying the room, then faces BERT again.

LARRY : Not bad. I mean, I been in a lotta joynts pretty much just like it, but you got some character here.

BERT : Some characters, ya mean.

LARRY (chuckling) : Some o’ those, too, sure. But hey — what place doesn’t?

LARRY pauses for another drink.

LARRY CON’T : Fuck, what town doesn’t?

BERT takes a drink.

BERT : None that I’d wanna live in , my friend –none that I’d wanna live in.

LARRY does a 360 in his barstoool, surveying the room one more time before addressing BERT again.

LARRY : Know what I noticed, though? Or should I say — know what I didn’t notice?

BERT takes another drink.

BERT : What’s that?

LARRY : Nobody who arrived separately left together.

BERT : Ya mean nobody hooked up? Ya really get that back in the Cities? People meetin’ fer the first time at the karaoke bar an’ goin’ home together?

LARRY takes another drink.

LARRY : Happens damn near every night. Sometimes you’ll see a man an’ a woman show up separate, usually each with a friend or two, an’ sometime over the course o’ the evening they’ll get to talkin’, an’ next thing ya know they’re up makin’ their sloppy, drunken way through some duet — usually from “Grease” or somethin’ — and then, bang! Next thing ya know it’s closin’ time an’ they’re headed ta the parkin’ lot together.

BERT :  Well, the yuppie Twin Cities folks is all couples to start with, they always go in an’ go out together. As fer us —well, this’s a small town. We all know each other. Not sayin’ that kinda thing doesn’t go on, but  — if anybody’s up to that kinda shenanigans they’ll try ta be more discreet about it so people don’t talk.

BERT takes another drink, wipes his mouth, grins.

BERT : ‘Course, they’re never as discreet as they think, an’ people do still talk, but — hey, it’s the effort that counts, right?

LARRY : S’pose so, s’pose so.

LARRY stands up from his stool, gulps down the last of his beer, rolls up the forms and puts them in his shirt pocket, and reaches across the bar to extend BERT a firm and friendly handshake.

LARRY : Well, just Bert, it’s been a pleasure. Hope the owner approves of our efforts and that I’ll be seein’ ya again sometime not too far down the line.

BERT shakes LARRY’s hand.

BERT : First he’s gotta pay you guys — good luck with that. If ya do end up comin’ back, take my advice — get cash upfront next time.

LARRY : Duly noted, good sir, duly noted.

LARRY makes his way toward the stage where his karaoke machine is parked atop the two-wheeler, pulls it behind him, and exits the rear door of the bar with a wave back to BERT, who returns the gesture even though LARRY’s back is turned to him.

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