Brunch
Time: Present Day
Place: A restaurant
Cast: Two young men, late university age, smart-casual dress.
A waitress.
All dialogue should be made to sound as natural and conversational as possible. To achieve that effect, the script should be paraphrased where required.The conversation is between two close friends, and as such should reflect the ease at which the conversation can turn from debate to joshing to philosophising and to comforting (or any other combination).
Man 1 is already sitting at the table looking pensive but contented. He checks his watch casually. He sees someone approaching and stand up. Man 2 enters. They embrace.
MAN 1: You alright mate, how have you been?
MAN 2: (overlapping) You alright, how are you?
MAN 1: Doing alright. Seat?
MAN 2: Don't mind if I do.
They sit. MAN 2 peruses the menu while MAN 1 looks at him and the surrounding environment.
MAN 2: This is slightly more upmarket.
MAN 1: Thought I'd treat us. Pretend we were fancy adults.
MAN 2: Are we going to talk about theatre now?
MAN 1: God no. We're paying for the food -
MAN 2: -You're paying for the food -
MAN 1: -I'm paying for the food, so there's no need to put on any airs here.
MAN 2: Glad to hear it.
Short pause
MAN 1: You ready to order?
MAN 2: I think so, yes
MAN 1: Right then
Man 1 sticks his hand up
MAN 2: What are you doing?
MAN 1: Trying to get the waitress' attention
MAN 2: Not like that.
MAN 1: Why not?
MAN 2: Because you're asking for food, you're not asking if you can be excused to the toilet.
MAN 1: Should I click my fingers?
MAN 2: Fuck no!
MAN 1: What should I do then?
MAN 2: Wait!
MAN 1: Seems inefficient to wait.
MAN 2: Clearly you've never been a waiter
MAN 1: No, I haven't.
MAN 2: Sometimes I forget you were privately educated.
MAN 1: And I've apologised to you several times about that.
MAN 2: You don't have to apologise, you bloody idiot.
MAN 1: Sometimes I feel I have to.
MAN 2: You're a tit.
The waitress appears next to them
WAITRESS: Hello there, gentlemen. What can I get you?
MAN 2: Can I have the full english breakfast please?
WAITRESS: Certainly. What drink?
MAN 2: Just a water, thanks.
WAITRESS: And for you?
MAN 1: Full english, no bacon please.
WAITRESS: And to drink?
MAN 1: A bloody Mary.
WAITRESS: Of course. I'll be right back
She takes their menus and leaves
MAN 1: You hear that? She called us gentlemen.
MAN 2: Clearly I'm not the only one who knows about your education.
MAN 1: I walked right into that one.
MAN 2: And since when did you drink bloody Marys?
MAN 1: I don't, I just wanted to try them out.
MAN 2: It uses celery as a stirrer!
MAN 1: Maybe I need to be healthier.
MAN 2: Yeah, and speaking of which, who doesn't have bacon?
MAN 1: I wasn't in a bacon mood.
MAN 2: Who isn't in a bacon mood apart from vegetarians and pigs?!
MAN 1: I think you're over-reacting slightly.
MAN 2: It is a basic human right to eat and enjoy bacon. It's programmed into us from the moment we emerge from the womb. The first culinary decision I remember making is how crispy I liked it. Bacon, my confused friend, is the sole reason why people consider breakfast the most important meal of the day. In restaurants and B&Bs around the country the question isn't still or sparkling; it's green or streaky!
MAN 1: I didn't expect you to get so worked up about food.
MAN 2: It one of the few things I'm passionate about.
MAN 1: Well in that regard you certainly bring home the...
MAN 2: (interrupting) Shut up. But seriously, why no bacon?
MAN 1: I wanted to see if my meal would be just as enjoyable without it. I love full English breakfasts. I love all that goes into them. I love sausages, I love eggs, I love mushrooms, I love the weird tomato even if I find it odd that a fruit insists itself onto my savoury meal, but I needed to see wether they'd still be as enjoyable without the holy element.
MAN 2: You're experimenting.
MAN 1: I am.
MAN 2: Hence the bloody Mary.
MAN 1: Exactly.
The waitress is returning
MAN 2: Speaking of which...
WAITRESS: Here we are. A water?
MAN 2: That's for me, thank you
WAITRESS: And the bloody Mary for you.
MAN 1: Thanks very much
WAITRESS: Food will be along in a few minutes. Do you need anything else?
MAN 1: Not at the moment, thank you.
She leaves. The men sip their drinks. MAN 1 has difficulties navigating around the celery.
MAN 2: How is it?
MAN 1: (sipping, and pausing) Ridiculous drink.
MAN 2: I warned you.
MAN 1: It's no wonder that you have to look in a mirror and summon it three times.
MAN 2: Do you think that's what she did back there?
MAN 1: I was being facetious.
MAN 2: You do it incredibly well.
MAN 1: It's in my upbringing.
MAN 2: As we've discussed.
MAN 1: How's your water?
MAN 2: Transparent, cold, tasteless, and palette cleansing.
MAN 1: Everything you could ask for from a glass of water.
MAN 2: I don't think anybody asks anything from a glass of water.
MAN 1: What do they ask for?
MAN 2: A glass of water.
They quietly chuckle. Pause.
MAN 2: So what's this all about?
MAN 1: What do you mean?
MAN 2: The brunch, the bloody Mary's, the fancy restaurant.
MAN 1: This is not fancy.
MAN 2: Fancy by our standards. What's going on?
Pensive pause
MAN 1: I wanted to have brunch.
MAN 2: Expand.
MAN 1: I wanted us to have brunch.
MAN 2: Expand.
MAN 1: How old are we now?
MAN 2: I'm 21, you're 21.
MAN 1: But you perceive yourself as older, right?
MAN 2: Well yes, but mainly because you talk like you're 61 and I try to keep up with you.
MAN 1: What I mean is, do you feel young?
MAN 2: No, I feel like an adult.
MAN 1: Exactly! That's what makes it so terrible. They coerce you into complacency with your own mediocrity. And it starts with the parents.
MAN 2: The parents?
MAN 1: They make you feel like the most brilliant special snowflake in the world. They don't warn you about the fact that you might not be the best at everything in the world.
MAN 2: I'd say that goes a bit against what it means to be a parent.
MAN 1: Let me put it this way. When I was younger. 5 or 6 I think. I was in the school nativity. We all had to be technically, but you could audition for a bigger part. So, this was a pantomime version of the nativity and it had songs in it. I wanted to be one of the three wise men. They had a song to sing, I can't remember the lyrics but it was to the tune of three blind mice, I remember that. My parents heard me practicing that song over and over again, and told me how brilliant they thought I was and how wonderful I was going to sound. Well, in one of my many narcissistic spasms I went through my old production videos and watched the show again. I'm fucking horrible. I mean, not like cute child off-key; genuinely terrible.
MAN 2: You were young.
MAN 1: I'm still young! The point is, I can never give my parents back that time.
MAN 2: That's a negative view on things, they were proud to see you try.
MAN 1: See it I understand, live with it is another matter entirely.
MAN 2: Don't get on the self-hatred thing again, it's not an endearing quality.
MAN 1: I get sad because I can't achieve things, then I get angry because there are many people all over the world with bigger problems than mine, so I can mad at myself and then sad all over again.
MAN 2: It's all about perspective.
MAN 1: That's very easy to say, but my perspective is the only one I have.
MAN 2: But that's very narrow minded, isn't it?
MAN 1: Not necessarily.
MAN 2: Example.
MAN 1: Right. You know all those people we used to take the piss out of on myspace?
MAN 2: All too well.
MAN 1: Those people weren't trying to- they weren't deliberately attempting annoy anyone. It's simply that their problems to them were the largest they'd ever dealt with. I lost my final grandparent at the age of 16. Every other elderly relative was gone before I was 4. This was the first loss I'd ever had to comprehend as a being with competent and cohesive thought. Was I the first person to ever grieve? No. But I was the first me to ever grieve. If that makes sense.
MAN 2: And the result.
MAN 1: Death terrifies me.
MAN 2: It's a popular school of thought.
MAN 1: The point is that it's all too easy to fall into self-pity when all I have is my middle-class guilt stopping me from being a shit. And even then do I want it at all?
MAN 2: What?
MAN 1: The guilt.
MAN 2: Which is relevant to this brunch how?
MAN 1: I enjoy it
MAN 2: What?
MAN 1: This. Being in this weird middle ground between total freedom and a total bubble of security. Being able to make mistakes with little to no consequences and being able to enjoy getting wrapped up in my own pathetic problems.
MAN 2: Enjoy?
MAN 1: Poor choice of words. What I mean is I don't like having perspective at this stage in our careers.
MAN 2: 'Our careers' is an extremely poor choice of words.
MAN 1: Because?
MAN 2: It implies we have jobs.
MAN 1: Exactly.
Man 2 sighs. Pause.
MAN 2: I read an article saying that my degree has a 29% employability prospect.
MAN 1: Doesn't that scare you?
MAN 2: Not really, no.
MAN 1: Why?
MAN 2: Because there's no point being scared of reality.
MAN 1: Reality. Now there's an ugly word. I never knew much of reality growing up. I know that now.
MAN 2: The snowflake argument?
MAN 1: (ignoring him) I didn't really understand reality until...
MAN 2: Until?
MAN 1: Until she left me.
MAN 2: Now who's being a myspace teenager
MAN 1: Perspective, remember?
MAN 2: I still don't understand why we're eating here.
MAN 1: I wanted us to have brunch.
MAN 2: WHY?
MAN 1: I wanted us to have brunch as we are now.
MAN 2: What?
Man 1 pauses to speak. He has thought about this too often
MAN 1: We're young by the world's standards, but we're made to feel ancient. Being at the tail end of this chapter and led to feel like we're being expelled from paradise. The milk and honey of loans and cheap booze, of knowing exactly what you're doing that week, of your friends being a few streets away, is running out. I wanted us to have brunch as we are now. So I can remember. So I contain this memory, like so many other wonderful ones, in it's own private snowglobe. A place it in a chest marked retrospect.
MAN 2: I understand.
MAN 1: They missed out the middle part. We got the getting your A-Levels, getting your degree part. And we got the part where we become successful and happy. But they never gave us the middle part.
MAN 2: They're not supposed to give it to you.
MAN 1: Then what is it all for?
MAN 2: Preparation.
MAN 1: There's teaching a man to skydive, and there's shoving him out the back of a plane.
MAN 2: It was always going to be scary.
MAN 1: Why does it have to be?
MAN 2: Because it's human nature! You want to do the best you can do, be the best you can be, but you're going to have to work for it. That fear will drive you towards brilliance. Fear will stop you rotting in your bedroom reduced to the age of 5 again.
MAN 1: But what if I fail?
MAN 2: How can you possibly fail? Do you listen to yourself?! It is not as black and white as that. Do you think that as an intelligent educated man at the age of 21 you can possibly make a mistake that will irrevocably fuck up your life? You planning on robbing a Boots with your mortarboard on? I'm not saying it's going to be perfect, and I'm not saying it's going to be easy. You have to be prepared to lose. Everyone loses. A lot of times during their lifetime. But do you know what happens when you lose? Someone else wins. And that guy will be the happiest bastard this world has ever seen, at least for a day. If you let life's victories and defeats take you by surprise, you won't lose momentum, and that momentum – that fear if you will – will guarantee you one thing: no matter what you do, you will be happy. So cheer up, you miserable cunt, and drink your absurd cocktail.
Pause
MAN 1: Wow.
MAN 2: Yes.
MAN 1: I never knew you had it in you.
MAN 2: Neither did I.
Small pause
MAN 1: Looks like you're passionate about more things than bacon.
MAN 2: It would appear so.
Small pause
MAN 1: I needed that.
MAN 2: You're welcome.
Small pause
MAN 1: I'm still going to be worried though.
MAN 2: It's a good thing, and we can deal with that.
MAN 1: Cool.
The waitress reappears with plates of food
WAITRESS: No bacon?
MAN 1: That's me.
She places the food in front of them and leaves
MAN 1 + 2: Thank you.
They look at each other. Pause.
MAN 1: And now?
MAN 2: Now we eat this meal, go home, enjoy the company of our friends, and probably drink until we pass out.
MAN 1: After that?
MAN 2: We're going to keep living life.
MAN 1: I can handle that.
MAN 2: I'm glad to hear it
They begin to eat in a comfortable silence
MAN 2: This is really nice bacon, by the way.
Slow fade to black as the two friends talk.
