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All the Best Poets Sit in the Smoking Section:24
INT – SUGAR JACKS PRIVATE ROOM – NIGHT
TITLE: SUGAR JACKS PRIVATE ROOM. Sunday, August 20, 2000. 12:27am
JOHN reclines on an oversized chair.
On the table to JOHN’S right, there is a box of Kleenex tissues.
On the table to JOHN’S left is a bottle of Jergen’s hand lotion.
There are two handle straps hanging from the ceiling above the chair. An old boom box sets next to the Kleenex.
CHEYANNE, still in her bikini, drops in a Puff Daddy CD, presses play and spreads John’s legs apart with her knees. She turns her back to him and begins gyrating in the air above his lap.
JOHN moves his hands to her hips.
JOHN
And what is your name?
CHEYANNE, still dancing, turns her head towards JOHN.
CHEYANNE
Cheyanne.
JOHN
That’s a cool name. Are you from Wyoming?
CHEYANNE is now looking straight ahead.
CHEYANNE
No, Medford.
JOHN
Oh, I thought maybe that’s where you got your name.
CHEYANNE
No. I am just shy and I didn’t want to use my real name.
JOHN
Uh, Ann?
CHEYANNE
No way! How did you know my real name?
JOHN
You said you were shy, and you go by Cheyanne. I just put two and two together. Duh, it’s pretty obvious.
CHEYANNE
Oh, please don’t tell anybody!
JOHN smiles and begins unbuttoning his pants.
JOHN
I won’t if you won’t!
CHEYANNE eyes his zipper.
CHEYANNE
Oh, that’ll be more money.
JOHN throws the twenty-dollar bill on the table next to the CD player.
CHEYANNE (CONT’D)
You have to at least match the house fee; forty for the house, forty or more for me.
JOHN
All right.
JOHN takes another twenty out and throws it on the table.
CHEYANNE
Now that’s more like it!
CHEYANNE turns to JOHN as her bikini top falls to the floor. JOHN smiles as CHEYANNE moves closer.
INT – SUGAR JACKS BAR – NIGHT
BAR
JEFF is at the bar swigging his nearly-empty Bloody Piña Colada, cringing with each sip.
NATASHA, on stage finally has her boots off and is slowly swaying to George Strait’s rodeo ballad ‘I Can Still Make Cheyenne.’
Jeff (V.O.)
Her feet are pretty sexy.
JOHN, smiling ear-to-ear, staggers out of the private room and approaches.
JEFF points at JOHN.
JEFF
Look at you!
JOHN
Uh huh.
JEFF
Well I found forty dollars and thought—
JOHN
Well I’m leaving.
JEFF
So what happened?
JOHN silently mouths the letters ‘B’ and ‘J’
JEFF (CONT’D)
No way! Are you serious?
JOHN grabs JEFF and pulls him away from the barstool.
JOHN
Be quiet, you wanna get us in trouble? Let’s get outta here.
