Scene is a small apartment in the kitchen. A man and a woman are sitting across a small table eating and drinking wine. The kitchen sink is full of dishes. He’s wearing a coat but no tie. She’s wearing jeans and a large purple sweater with beads. Her hair is long and piled up on her head. Music is playing. An instrumental version of Have You Met Miss Jones begins to play.
He: Hey, let’s talk while we dance. I love this one.
He stands up and throws his napkin on the seat of his chair. He holds his arms open.
She: You are such a moron. No. I’m not going to dance. Sit down.
She drinks her glass of wine. He stands there smiling. They look each other in the eye.
She: Oh fuck! Fine.
She stands up and they waltz around the small kitchen. He tries to pull her closer. She pushes him a way.
He: Now this is a date. What were we discussing, again?
She: Oh I think it was about what an ass you are. And how you lied to me — and your kid.
He: Yeah. Right. I lied. Yes. I did.
He spins her.
He: I’m sorry. But I was just lying because you shouldn’t have asked. Who cares who I was seeing, especially the kid. The kid doesn’t need to be mixed into my any of that. We had a deal.
She stops and puts her finger under his chin.
She: A lie is a lie. You are a liar. Just tell the truth. That was part of the deal.
She sits back down.
He: Alone on the dance floor again. Hmmm. Maybe there’s someone else around here…
He opens a closet and pulls out a mop. He starts dancing with it and stroking its “hair.”
He: Nice to meet you Miss Jones. Oh, yes I was in love once. But she didn’t love me. She said I was a liar and an asshole. She hates me now.
He spins the mop around.
He: What’s that? Oh sure, I mean but I’ll never love anyone like that again.
She’s watching him and laughing. She gets up and grabs the mop.
She: Excuse me, miss, Jones was it? Don’t you have some homework to do?
She drops the mop and drapes her arms on his shoulders.
She: I never should have let you in here, dad.
He: Well, mom. We went and had a kid together. Now, you know, we’re here.
They kiss each other just as the saxophone flares up. And they keep dancing until the song finishes.
He: Hey, let me put something else on.
She: Hey, she’s sleeping
He: I know. She’s probably hearing every word.
He walks around the counter to the stereo and hits a couple buttons.
Just In Time by Frank Sinatra starts to play. She has her arms crossed, she rolls her eyes, smiles, and shakes her head.
He: Now. I think we should go to bed.
He takes her hand. They walk into the next room. She follows.
She: God I hate you.
The song finishes. End of scene.