Bryan: Yeah, I bet you need that coffee. This is like, what, the eleventh straight day you’ve been working?
Rick: Tenth. And I just took a break. Fifteen minutes ago.
Bryan: Yeah? How long did that last?
Rick: Four minutes, thirty-two seconds. Five seconds less and I would have beat my record.
Bryan: What, are you trying not to have sex for a month or something? Is this some church-sponsored deal? (Pauses.) Come on, man, you need a coffee break.
(Rick holds up his coffee mug, keeping his gaze on the computer.)
Bryan: Take it from me, coffee tastes a heck of a lot better outside the cubicle.
Rick: Can’t you just wait until lunchtime? Or will you be too busy flirting with that woman you like? The one with the very large … cubicle?
Bryan: No, and that’s exactly why I need you to take a break! I need to talk to someone!
Rick: I don’t borrow my wife out for money, if that’s what you want.
Bryan: Oh, give me a break. I wasn’t going to borrow Kelly. Chill. What happens in church stays in church, right?
Rick: Alright, fine. I’ll take a break. But not for very long. Unlike you, I actually have work to do. Not women.
(The two leave the cubicle and sit down on some leather chairs. Rick takes a sip of coffee.)
Rick: I think you’re right. This coffee really does taste better.
Bryan: Amazing how that works, isn’t it?.
Rick: So what did you want to talk about? I’m guessing it has something to do with a female and a bed?
Bryan: No. Well, sort of. I need a girlfriend.
Rick: Wait, wait, wait … you mean you need an actual girlfriend, or just a sex partner?
Bryan: Is that a trick question? Both, I guess! A man needs love and a man needs sex! Passion, if you prefer.
Rick: Uh-huh. And what do I have to do with any of this? The only two women I talk to are Kelly, and Kelly’s eighty-year-old mother, both of which I’m assuming you wouldn’t be interested in.
Bryan: No. Thanks, but no. I’m not sure exactly what you can do. Look around a little. Keep your eye out. And if you see a woman and feel a little buzz, be sure to tell her about me.
Rick: Tell her about you? Oh yeah, that’d work really great. I can see it now. “Hey there! My name is Rick. I am supposed to tell you about my friend. His name is Bryan. You would know his face anywhere. Big eyes, tongue hanging out, and oh, yeah, he’ll probably be drooling.”
Bryan: No, not like that. I mean, be subtle. What would you do if you were me? Lonely, depressed, in the dark … (Rick doesn’t seem to be sympathizing, so Bryan keeps thinking of words.) Um, let’s see … run down, tired … dreary, can’t forget dreary. What else can I use?
Rick: (Sighs.) Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll just … take a quick peek around me whenever I can. But that’s it! No more than that. And if I find someone, I’ll try to introduce the two of you.
Bryan: Thanks, Rick! You’re the man. I knew you would. You always help people out. You can’t help it. It’s that whole “church” deal, you know?
Rick: Whatever. But just this once. And you can’t tell my wife. If she ever found out I was looking for another woman, whether she was for you or me, she’d kill me.
Bryan: My lips are sealed.
(Scott enters the scene. Supposedly, he just came from his own office.)
Scott: Would the two of you tone it down a little? It’s really difficult to focus on the image of a woman when there’s all this noise distracting you. (Rick and Bryan give him blank stares.) I’m just kidding. I heard you guys talking and I thought I might join you. Unless this is some kind of sex deal?
Bryan: No. Well, in a way, I guess. Rick here’s just going to—
Scott: Seriously? Because I mean, when Bryan’s done with Kelly, I could use a little myself.
Rick: Very funny. But, no. Kelly’s mine. He meant I was just going to find someone, someone that’s not Kelly, for Bryan. That’s what guys do, right? They find sex partners for their friends.
Bryan: She’s not a sex partner!
Bryan: The woman!
Scott: What woman? I thought you said you were just looking!
Rick: We are!
Scott: You mean you’ve already found someone? You just need to ask her? Or … pay her?
Bryan: No! We haven’t found anyone yet.
Scott: Then who’s the woman?
Bryan: No one!
Scott: So you’re a cheater! That’s low. I never would have suspected you, of all people. Although, I’m not that surprised.
Bryan: Oh, thanks!
Rick: Look, Scott, I was just finding someone for Bryan. We don’t have our eye … or I mean, I don’t have his eye on anyone yet.
Bryan: Yeah. Rick here has my eye out for people. And I was thinking maybe you could have my other eye out, too. Two eyes are better than one! Or six, and two … whatever. What do you say?
Scott: I’ve got a girlfriend I have my own eye on!
Bryan: Come on, you have two eyes, man! Rick here has got himself a wife and he has my eye! The church dude! So what do you say? Willing to help out an old friend or not?
Scott: Alright, alright. I’ll have your eye.
Bryan: Thanks, man.
Scott: Sure. I mean, it’s not that big of a deal. I might actually enjoy this! It gives me an excuse to look at other women.
Rick: Wait, wait, wait … I think one’s coming!
(Just then, J’anna walks into the room wearing tight pants and a rather low-cut shirt. She walks up to the copy machine and starts pressing buttons and making a copy of something, bending over. Rick, Bryan and Scott stare at her. She grabs the copies and is walking out of the room.)
J’anna: Hello, boys. Working hard, I assume?
(Bryan elbows Scott to say something.)
Scott: Uh, yeah! Sure!
J’anna: You’d better be, with how much I’m paying you.
(J’anna exits the room. It is silent for a few minutes.)
Scott: Wow. I, uh … I think I enjoy having your eye, Bryan! I can see so much … clearer.
Rick: Yeah, me too. Thanks, man!
Scott: I’m really jealous of her bra right now.
Scott: Because it’s always touching—
Rick: So, Bryan, how’s your son doing?
Bryan: Who, Shane? Oh, he’s fine. But then again, he always has a girlfriend.
(All laugh once more. Scene fades.)
Bryan: We have to stop coming here.
Scott: What’re you talking about, man? We always come here after work! This is our resting place! You know, the point between work and wives? It’s always easier to take a yelling when I have some pizza and a salad in my stomach.
Bryan: There’s plenty of restaurants with pizza and salad.
Scott: But Mike’s pizza and salad is the only woman-curing pizza and salad! Not just any old pizza or salad can stand up against feminine power.
Rick: Scott’s right, Bryan! We can’t just stop coming here. It’s the only chance for me to hear music that doesn’t include the word “holy” a hundred times! Why the sudden change?
Bryan: Well, I know everyone here. We’re like a family. I know the first names of all the waitresses and even the managers here.
Scott: Oh, man, that is rough! When your restaurant becomes like a family to you, you know life is spiraling down the drain of doom.
Bryan: No, I mean, if I’m going to find a woman, I have to go someplace new, where there’s plenty I haven’t met.
Scott: Why can’t you try for one here, that you already know?
Bryan: That’d be like dating my sister! Pretty soon, when we’re in bed, she’d say, “do you want the usual?”
Rick: Do you know that waitress over there?
Scott: By first name?
Bryan: Are you kidding? I know her by nickname.
Scott: Well, where else can we go?
Rick: Hey, I know a place we could try, after work. It’s nice, big enough for there to be plenty of new people to meet and not too expensive.
Bryan: I’m not going to another one of your church’s barbecues. I’m not sure I could stand listening to Pastor Herb pray for half an hour over a hot dog I had already digested.
Rick: I’m not talking about my church. After you dipped your communion bread in the holy water last time, I’m not sure Pastor Herb wants you back either. Anyways, I was thinking Giordano’s.
Scott: What, the pizza place? There must be a hundred of those in Chicago.
Rick: Exactly. I bet you could find any type of person there.
Bryan: Giordano’s. Sounds Italian and expensive.
Rick: No, it’s not too bad!
Scott: Yeah, if you can ever get past the two inches of cheese in their pizza. The stuff is so thick my mom lost her reading glasses in it. Took the waiter five minutes, two salad tongs, and a fork to get them out.
Bryan: Sounds perfect! I guess we can go there after work tomorrow. Boy, I’ll tell you, after two hundred consecutive deep-fried bacon burgers, my mouth is watering at the thought of something new. Giordano’s, here we come.
(The waitress comes and sets their plates of food before them.)
Waitress: There you go. The usual. Enjoy.
(She leaves. The guys stare half-heartedly at the meals.)
Scott: Yeah, I think I’m ready for new food.
Rick: And maybe a new waitress, too.
Bryan: How thick did you say that cheese was?
Bryan, Scott and Rick are all at Giordano’s. They’re staring awkwardly at the menus, not able to decide what to get.
Scott: Call me crazy, but those old salads are starting to sound pretty good about now.
Bryan: Yeah. Everything here either looks good but I can’t pronounce it, or I can say it but I don’t want it. I mean, who knew “pizza” was Italian?
Rick: What did you think it was, man?
Bryan: I don’t know. It sounded kind of French to me. Whenever I have to do that weird throat thing when I say a word, I just assume it’s French. Giordgggggano’s.
Scott: You don’t have to do that weird French thing. You just say Giordano’s.
Bryan: Oh, that’s exactly what you Americans think, isn’t it?
Rick: Oh, brother. You’re not going to tell us you’re Italian now, are you?
Bryan: No, but my great-grandmother cheated on her husband with an old Italian and got pregnant with my mother’s mother, so … I’m pretty much qualified when it comes to the language.
Scott: Oh yeah? (Points to something on the menu.) So what does this mean?
Bryan: Oh, um … that word there means cheese, and … I think something to do with a dirty sock. Wait, wait … a couch, maybe?
Rick: Right, qualified. If I dropped you off in Italy for a week, you’d fit right in with the crowd.
Bryan: Okay, so maybe I’m a little shaky with my Italian skills. So what? As long as I can use my Italian accent right when ordering, I’ll have me a girlfriend in no time.
Scott: So you can actually speak with the accent?
Bryan: Pretty close.
Rick: Let’s hear it.
Scott: Um, how about no.
Bryan: No, really, I insist. You’ve got nothing to be worried about. Check this out: le ciel est tres beau aujord ‘hui.
Rick: Dude, that’s French.
Bryan: Oh. Well, French is the language of love, right? Now, when our waitress comes over here, I’m going to whisper some of that French-Italian in her ear and make her sway. Just watch.
Scott: Oh, I bet any man could make a woman sway with French-Italian.
(Scott and Rick laugh. Scene fades.)
The guys are all at Giordano’s again after work. This should be an easy scene switch.
Bryan: Guys, I have got to talk to that waitress over there. She is smoking hot. And the weird thing is, she’s my age! How often does that happen?
Rick: It depends, I guess.
Scott: On what, church man?
Rick: How old you are. I mean, think about it! When we were in high school, most of the girls were at least decent looking. But now that we’re older, even the cheerleaders that once ruled the school have gained weight and either have too much hair or so little they might as well be bald.
Bryan: Yeah, I know. The unfair thing is, we stayed the same! We’re still hot, but there’s not enough of them.
Scott: What’re you guys talking about? We’re all, like, two years old when it comes to being thirty.
Bryan: I wish I was twenty again.
Rick: So do we all, Bryan. So do we all.
Bryan: Yeah, but for other reasons than not having the stress of a job or house bills.
Scott: What other reasons could there possibly be for wanting to be twenty?
Bryan: Well, if we were twenty, all women would be dateable. Now, it’s like every time I see a woman under twenty-five, “off-limits” starts flashing on their foreheads in bright red letters.
Bryan: But the point is, that waitress over there is hot, but our age. She’s, like … legally hot.
Rick: Not like that twenty-year-old one over there.
Bryan: No, she’s definitely illegally hot.
Scott: Well, you better talk to her! There aren’t many legally hot people around anymore.
Bryan: I know. When I was twenty, all I had to focus on was Kelly. How could I have been so legally blind?
Rick: You have another chance right now!
Scott: Yeah, man, so are you talking to her or what?
Bryan: Well, I can’t, now.
Scott: Why now? What’s wrong with now? I thought you said she was legal!
Bryan: She is! But she’s also legally working.
Scott: What, are you crazy? Why do you think waitresses become waitresses?
Bryan: What are you talking about?
Scott: To meet guys! Waitresses are all about flirting! She’s probably just waiting for a customer to talk to her. So go. Now.
Bryan: Fine. Wish me luck.
Scott: Good luck, man!
Rick: Yeah, and try not to drool.
Bryan: (Stands up.) Thanks.
Scott: Oh, and, uh … your fly is open.
Bryan: What? (Looks down.)
(Bryan rolls his eyes, then exits the scene.)
Rick: You know, now that I think about it, I do regret being twenty.
Scott: You know what I regret most in life?
Rick: What’s that?
Scott: I forgot to ask my third grade teacher that joke she said she’d tell us when we were older.
(The two laugh.)
Rick: So, you think he’ll get a date with the … legally hot woman?
Scott: I really don’t know. We either just convinced him to do the very thing that will change the rest of his life, or … we could have sent him to his doom. Whichever one.
(Bryan reenters the scene. He sits down casually, like nothing ever happened.)
Scott: How’d it go?
Bryan: How’d what go?
Rick: That bad, huh?
Bryan: (Silent for a few moments. Then, suddenly, he smiles.) I got a date with her. I got a date with the legally hot woman!
Scott: Congrats, man! Woohoo! Way to go.
Rick: Nice going.
Bryan: I told you asking her was worth a try!
(Rick and Scott give each other looks.)
Bryan: I propose a toast.
Rick: To what?
Bryan: These after-work hours. Best hours of our lives.
Rick: A toast.
(All clink classes, take a sip and laugh.)