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NO WAY! This was one of my favorite movies as a kid, still holds up and still amazing. Elisabeth Shue kills it in this one as per standard. I love the scene where Sara meets the "real" Thor, subtext saves the day! Excellent film!

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"John Dillinger was killed behind that theater in a hale of FBI gunfire. And do you know who tipped them off? His 🤬 girlfriend. All he wanted to do was go to the movies." -Rob Gordon

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[first lines]

Rob : What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?

Rob : Top five things I miss about Laura. One; sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she's got one of the best all time laughs in the history of all time laughs, she laughs with her entire body. Two; she's got character. Or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She's loyal and honest, and she doesn't even take it out on people when she's having a bad day. That's character.

[holds up three fingers]

Rob : Three;

[long pause, hesitantly]

Rob : I miss her smell, and the way she tastes. It's a mystery of human chemistry and I don't understand it, some people, as far as their senses are concerned, just feel like home.

[shakes his head, recollecting, then looks back and lip synchs 'four' while holds up four fingers]

Rob : I really dig how she walks around. It's like she doesn't care how she looks or what she projects and it's not that she doesn't care it's just, she's not affected I guess, and that gives her grace. And five; she does this thing in bed when she can't get to sleep, she kinda half moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times... it just kills me. Believe me, I mean, I could do a top five things about her that drive me crazy but it's just your garden variety women you know, schizo stuff and that's the kind of thing that got me here.

Rob : ...I agreed that what really matters is what you like, not what you are like... Books, records, films - these things matter. Call me shallow but it's the fuckin' truth, and by this measure I was having one of the best dates of my life.

Rob : That other girl, or other women, whatever... I mean, I was thinking that they're just fantasies. You know? And they always seem really great because there's never any problems. And if there are, they're cute problems like, you know, we bought each other the same Christmas present, or she wants to go see a movie that I've already seen, you know? And then I come home, and you and I have real problems... and you don't even want to see the movie I want to see, period. There's no lingerie and...

Laura : I have lingerie!

Rob : Yes, you do. You have great lingerie, but you also have the cotton underwear that's been washed a thousand times, and it's hanging on the thing and, and they have it too! It's just I don't have to see it because it's not in the fantasy. Do you understand? I'm tired of the fantasy because it doesn't really exist. And there are never really any surprises, and it never really...

Laura : Delivers?

Rob : Delivers. Right. And I'm tired of it. And I'm tired of everything else, for that matter. But I don't ever seem to get tired of you.

Rob : Sometimes I got so bored of trying to touch her breast that I would try to touch her between her legs. It was like trying to borrow a dollar, getting turned down, and asking for 50 grand instead.

[last lines]

Rob : The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules. Anyway... I've started to make a tape... in my head... for Laura. Full of stuff she likes. Full of stuff that make her happy. For the first time I can sort of see how that is done.

Rob : So, what am I gonna do now? Just keep jumping from rock to rock, for the rest of my life, until they're not any rocks left? Should I bolt every time I get that feeling in my gut when I meet someone new? Well, I've been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.

Rob : I can't fire them. I hired these guys for three days a week and they just started showing up every day. That was four years ago.

Rob : I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

Dick : I guess it looks as if you're reorganizing your records. What is this though? Chronological?

Rob : No...

Dick : Not alphabetical...

Rob : Nope...

Dick : What?

Rob : Autobiographical.

Dick : No fucking way.

Rob : Yep. Let me tell ya how I got from Deep Purple to Howlin' Wolf in just 25 moods. And, if I want to find the song "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the Fall of 1983 pile - but, didn't give it to them for personal reasons.

Dick : That sounds...

Rob : Comforting.

Dick : Yes.

Rob : It is.

Rob Gordon : I will now sell five copies of "The Three EPs" by The Beta Band.

Dick : Go for it.

[Rob plays the record]

Beta Band Customer : Who is this?

Rob Gordon : The Beta Band.

Beta Band Customer : It's good.

Rob Gordon : I know.

Rob : If you *really* wanted to screw me up, you should've gotten to me earlier.

Louis : I don't have that record... I'll buy it for forty.

Rob : Sold.

Louis : Now why would you sell it to me and not to him?

Barry : Because you're not a geek, Louis.

Louis : You guys are snobs.

Dick : No, we're not.

Louis : Yeah, seriously, you're totally elitist. You feel like the unappreciated scholars, so you shit onto people who know lesser than you.

Rob , Barry , Dick : No!

Louis : Which is everybody...

Rob , Barry , Dick : Yeah...

Louis : That's so sad.

Rob : She didn't make me miserable, or anxious, or ill at ease. You know, it sounds boring, but it wasn't. It wasn't spectacular either. It was just good. But really good.

Customer : Do you have Soul?

Rob : That all depends.

Barry : I wanna date a musician.

Rob Gordon : I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes.

Barry : Maybe a little picture of me in the liner notes.

Dick : Just in the background somewhere.

Rob : It made sense to pool our collective loathing for the opposite sex, and while we were at it, you get to share a bed with somebody at the same time. We were frightened of being left alone for the rest of our lives. Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 26, and we were of that disposition.

Rob : John Dillinger was killed behind that theater in a hale of FBI gunfire. And do you know who tipped them off? His fucking girlfriend. All he wanted to do was go to the movies.

Laura : Listen, Rob, would you have sex with me? Because I want to feel something else than this. It either that, or I go home and put my hand in the fire. Unless you want to stub cigarettes out on my arm.

Rob : No. I only have a few left, I've been saving them for later.

Laura : Right. It'll have to be sex, then.

Rob : Right. Right.

Laura : I knew there was a reason I wore a skirt today.

Rob : Charlie, you fucking bitch. Let's work it out.

Barry : Top 5 songs about death. A Laura's Dad tribute list, okay? Okay. Leader of the Pack. The guy fuckin' beefs it on his motorcycle and dies, right? Dead Man's Curve. Jan & Dean.

Dick : Do you know that right after they recorded that song Jan himself crashed his car...

Barry : It was Dean you fuckin' idiot...

Rob : It was Jan. It was a long time after the song.

Barry : Okay, whatever. Tell Laura I Love Her. That would bring the house down - Laura's Mom could sing it. You know what I'd want? One Step Beyond by Madness. And, uh, You Can't Always Get What You Want.

Dick : No. Immediate disqualification because of its involvement with The Big Chill.

Barry : Oh God. You're right!

Dick : Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - Gordon Lightfoot.

Barry : You bastard! That's so good - that should have been mine... The night Laura's daddy died. Sha na na na na na na na na! Brother what a night it really was. Mother what a night it really... angina's tough! Glory be!

Rob : Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing.

Penny Hardwick : I... I was crazy about you. I wanted to sleep with you, one day, but not when I was 16. When you broke up with me - YOU broke up with ME - because I was, to use your charming expression, "tight," I cried, and I cried, and I hated you, and when that little shitbag asked me out and I was too tired to fight him off, it wasn't rape, because I said "OK," but it wasn't far off! Do you know I couldn't have sex until after college because I hated it so much? That's when you're supposed to have sex, Rob - in college! And now you want to have a little chat about rejection, well fuck you, Rob!

[gets up and leaves]

Rob : [stunned silence, seemingly chastised]  God, she's right. I broke up with her, I rejected her... that's ANOTHER one I don't have to worry about. I should have done this years ago!

Rob : It would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated. Females less cruel. Skins thicker. Instincts more developed. But there seems to be an element of that afternoon in everything that's happened to me since. All my romantic stories are a scrambled version of that first one.

Barry : Holy shite. What the fuck is that?

Dick : It's the new Belle and Sebastian...

Rob : It's a record we've been listening to and enjoying, Barry.

Barry : Well, that's unfortunate, because it sucks ass.

Rob : I want more, I wanna see the others on the big top-five. I want to see Penny and Charlie and Sarah, all of them. You know? Just see 'em and talk to 'em. You know, like a Bruce Springsteen song.

Bruce Springsteen : You call, you ask them how they are and see if they've forgiven you.

Rob : Yeah, and then I feel good. And they feel good.

Bruce Springsteen : They'd feel good, maybe. But you feel better.

Rob : I'd feel clean and calm.

Bruce Springsteen : That's what you're looking for, you know, get ready to start again. It'd be good for you.

Rob : Great, even.

Bruce Springsteen : Give that big final good luck and goodbye to your all time top-five and just move on down the road.

Rob : Good luck, Goodbye. Thanks, Boss.

[Rob turns off Barry's tape]

Barry : OK, buddy, uh, I was just tryin' to cheer us up so go ahead. Put on some old sad bastard music, see if I care.

Rob : I don't wanna hear old sad bastard music, Barry, I just want something I can ignore.

Barry : Here's the thing. I made that tape special for today. My special Monday morning for *you*... special.

Rob : Well, it's fuckin' Monday afternoon! You should get out of bed earlier!

Rob : How does he do it, you ask. How does

[stops, whispers]

Rob : how does an average guy like me become the number one lover-man in his particular postal district? He's grumpy, he's broke, he hangs out with the musical moron twins...

[shrugs]

[while Marie de Salle is singing "Baby I Love Your Way"]

Rob Gordon : I used to hate this song.

Barry , Dick : Yeah.

Rob Gordon : Now I kinda like it.

Barry , Dick : Yeah.

Laura : [Reading]  Top Five Dream Jobs.

Rob : Hey, that's private.

Laura : Number One: Journalist for Rolling Stone magazine. 1976-1979. Get to meet the Clash, Chrissie Hydne, Sex Pistols, David Byrne. Get tons of free records. Number Two: Producer. Atlantic Records. 1964-1971. Get to meet Aretha, Wilson Pickett, Solomon Burke...

Laura , Rob : More free records...

Laura : And a shitload of money.

Rob : Yeah.

Laura : Number Three: Any kind of musician.

Rob : Besides classical or rap.

Laura : Settle for being one of the Memphis Horns or something. Not asking to be Jaggar or Hendricks or Otis Redding. Number Four: Film Director.

Rob : Any kind except German or silent.

Laura : And Number Five: we have architect.

Rob : Yeah.

Laura : Seven years training.

Rob : I'm not sure I even want to be an architect.

Laura : So you've got a list here of five things you'd do if qualifications and time and history and salary were no object.

Rob : Yeah.

Rob : I own this store called Champions Vinyl. It's located in a neighborhood that attracts the bare minimum of window shoppers. I get by because of the people who make a special effort to shop here - mostly young men - who spend all their time looking for deleted Smiths singles and original, not rereleased - underlined - Frank Zappa albums. Fetish properties are not unlike porn. I'd feel guilty taking their money, if I wasn't... well... kinda one of them.

Rob : [Discussing his break-up with Laura while on the phone with his mom]  Laura didn't even want to get married. That's not what happens now.

Rob's Mom : [exasperated]  Oh, I don't know what happens now, except you meet a girl, you move in, she goes! You meet a girl, you move in, SHE GOES!

Rob : Aw, SHUT UP, MOM!

[Slams the phone receiver down, then muttering]

Rob : God damn, that's some cold shit!

Rob : Liking both Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel is like supporting both the Israelis and the Palestinians.

Laura : No, it's really not, Rob. You know why? Because Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel make pop records.

Rob : Made. Made. Marvin Gaye is dead. His father shot him.

Laura : I'm too tired not to be with you.

Rob : What, so if you had a bit more energy we'd stay split up, but things being as they are, with you being wiped out and all, you want to get back together? Is that it?

Laura : Yeah.

Rob Gordon : Hey, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm certainly not the dumbest. I mean, I've read books like "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and "Love in the Time of Cholera", and I think I've understood them. They're about girls, right? Just kidding. But I have to say my all-time favorite book is Johnny Cash's autobiography "Cash" by Johnny Cash.

Rob : [lying in bed imagining the scene]  You are as abandoned and noisy as any character in a porn film, Laura. You are Ian's plaything, responding to his touch with shrieks of orgasmic delight. No woman in the history of the world is having better sex than sex you are having with Ian... in my head.

Rob : I'll give you ten percent of the door if you don't play.

Barry : Rob, we're getting that anyway. No!

Rob : Twenty.

Barry : No!

Rob : Twenty percent.

Barry : Come on, Rob. We need the gig.

Rob : A hundred and ten percent! That's how much it means to me, not to hear you play.

Barry : Rob, we're called Sonic Death Monkey.

Rob : Sonic Death Monkey?

Barry : Yeah. And if Laura and her bourgeois lawyer friends can't handle it - fuck them. Let 'em riot. We're Sonic-fuckin'-Death Monkey!

Rob : My desert island, all-time, top-five most memorable breakups, in chronological order, are as follows: Alison Ashmore; Penny Hardwick; Jackie Alden; Charlie Nicholson; and Sarah Kendrew. Those were the ones that really hurt. Can you see your name on that list, Laura? Maybe you'd sneak into the top ten. But there's just no room for you in the top five, sorry. Those places are reserved for the kind of humiliation and heartbreak you're just not capable of delivering.

Rob : I was jealous of other men in her design department. I became convinced that she was going to leave me for one of them. Then she left me for one of them.

Rob : Why'd you have to tell her about the store?

Barry : Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was classified information. I mean, I know we don't have any customers, but I thought that was a bad thing, not like, a business strategy

[smacks Rob]

Rob : What if I was doing something that can't be cancelled?

Laura : Rob, what are you ever doing that can't be cancelled?

[Liz storms in]

Rob : Hey, Liz.

Liz : [calm]  Hi, Rob...

[screams]

Liz : You fucking asshole!

[beat, Liz walks out the store, Barry's in the corner, stares]

Liz : Hi, Barry.

Rob : I lost it. I lost it all- faith, dignity... about 15 pounds.

Rob Gordon : She LIKED me. She liked ME. SHE like me... At least I think she did.

Vince : What's the name of your label?

Rob : Top Five Records.

Rob : [pauses]  Is that Peter fucking Frampton?

Rob : Just c'mon. What would it mean to you, that sentence - "I haven't seen Evil Dead II, yet"?

Barry : Well, to me it would mean you were a liar. You've seen it twice: once with Laura - Oops! - and once with me and Dick, remember? We had that conversation about the guy making Beretta shotgun ammunition offscreen in the 14th century.

Rob Gordon : [Rob's mother starts to cry after Rob tells her over the phone that he and Laura have broken up]  I'm okay if that's what's upsetting you...

Rob's Mom : That is NOT what's upsetting me!

Rob Gordon : [Sharply]  Well it fuckin' should be, shouldn't it?

Rob : I just want to know where I stand here. What chance?

Laura : What - I don't know what chance we have.

Rob : You can tell me roughly.

Laura : Alright, we have a nine percent chance of getting back together.

Rob : Nine?

Laura : Nine.

Rob : Great.

Rob : I can't go on apologizing my whole life.

Liz : I think just the *once* would do!

Rob : Do you want to get married - to me?

[Laura burst out laughing]

Rob : I'm serious.

Laura : Yes, I know.

Rob : Well, thanks a frickin' bunch!

Laura : I'm sorry, it's just two days ago you were making tapes for that girl from the Reader. Well, forgive me if I don't think of you as the world's safest bet.

Rob : Would you marry me if I was?

Laura : What brought all this on?

Rob : I don't know. I'm just sick of thinking about it all the time.

Laura : About what?

Rob : This stuff. Love and settling down and marriage, you know. I want to think about something else.

Laura : [sarcastically]  I change my mind. That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I do. I will.

Rob : Get your patchouli stink - outta my store! Move it, lard ass!

Rob : What, fucking, Ian guy?

Rob : Songs at my funeral: "Many Rivers to Cross" by Jimmy Cliff, "Angel" by Aretha Franklin, and I've always had this fantasy that some beautiful, tearful woman would insist on "You're the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me" by Gladys Knight. But who would that woman be?

Rob : It was as if breasts were little pieces of property that had been unlawfully annexed by the opposite sex. They were rightfully ours and we wanted them back.

Rob : Where's Ian? Or Ray, or... what is his fucking name, anyway? What do you call him, Ian or Ray?

Laura : Ray. I hate Ian.

Rob : I hate him too.

Laura : Yeah... I'm sure.

Rob : I could've wound up having sex back there. And what better way to exorcise rejection demons than to screw the person who rejected you, right? But you wouldn't be sleeping with a person, you'd be sleeping with the whole sad, single-person culture. It'd be like sleeping with Talia Shire in Rocky if you weren't Rocky. I feel guilty enough as it is.

Rob : Marvin Gaye.

Laura : I know.

Rob : Let's get it on. That's our song. Marvin Gaye is responsible for our entire relationship.

Laura : Oh, is that so? I'd like a word with him then.

Rob : Alison married Kevin! I am fine now! Married her junior high school sweetheart: kissed me on the bench, kissed Kevin on the bench - MARRIED Kevin. This is great! This has got nothing to do with me! This is fate, this is destiny; it is beyond my control, beyond my fault. I love this!

Rob : Look at these. I used to dream I'd be surrounded by exotic women's underwear forever and ever. Now I know they just save their best pairs for the nights they know they're going to sleep with somebody.

Rob : The two to on my top five all-time break up list was Penny Hardwick.

Rob : Penny was great looking and her top five recording artists were Carly Simon, Carole King, James Taylor, Cat Stevens and Elton John.

Rob Gordon : All three of us writers, we all experience music autobiographically.

Rob Gordon : I think a lot of people do.

Rob Gordon : So I'll have certain songs that mark certain times in our life and I think we're not rare that way.

Rob Gordon : Like I'll use music as fuel, you know?

Rob Gordon : Not like as inspiration but as fuel like if I need to get into a certain mindset I know there's certain songs that I can turn on that'll just... that's the gas and that'll get me right where I need to go.

Rob Gordon : Or if I need to get out of a certain state put on this song or that song and it just propels you.

Rob : [From a deleted scene]  Barry, you're over 30 years old. You owe it to yourself, to your friends, to your parents, NOT to play in a band called Sonic Death Monkey!

Barry : I owe it to myself to go RIGHT to the edge, Rob! And this band does exactly that. Over the edge, in fact!

Rob : Well, you'll be going right over the fucking edge if you come anywhere near me on Friday night!

Barry : That's what we want: reaction! Hey, this was Laura's idea, not mine, buddy. And if Laura's bourgeois lawyer friends can't take it, FUCK them. Let 'em riot, we can take it! We're fuckin' Sonic Death Monkey.

Rob : One moment they weren't there - in not any form that interested us, anyway. And, then, the next. We couldn't miss them. They were everywhere. And they'd grown breasts! And we wanted - actually, we didn't even know what we wanted. But, it was something interesting. Disturbing.

Rob : I wasn't interested in Penny's nice qualities, just her breasts. And, therefore, she was no good for me.

Louis : Rob, it's your turn.

Rob : Okay. I feel kinda basic today. Top five, side ones, track ones: Janie Jones, Clash, from The Clash; Let's Get It On, Marvin Gaye from Let's Get It On; Nivana, Smells Like Teen Spirit, off of Nevermind...

Barry : Oh, no, Rob. That's not obvious enough. Not at all. How about: Point of No Return on Point of No Return. Louis, so you can get a...

Rob : Shut up! White Light/White Heat, Velvet Underground

Louis : That would be on my list.

Barry : Though not on mine.

Rob : Massive Attack, No Protection, the song is: Radiation Ruling the Nation.

Barry : Oh, kind of a new record. Very - very nice Rob. A sly declaration of new classic status slipping into a list of old, safe ones. Very pussy!

Rob : There's only Charlie left now - - She's in the fucking phone book! She should be living on Neptune. She's an extraterrestrial, a ghost, a myth, not a person in a phone book!

Barry : You think it would be wiser to start a record label, like putting out a record with business cribbling nazi youth shoplifters, than with someone you know in your bitter, jealous heart is a musical visionary!

Rob : Yeah, what do your songs sound like? Sex Pistols? Nirvana? Pop Abrams and the Smurfs?

Barry : You know what? You wouldn't be familiar with our immediate influences.

Rob : Try me.

Barry : They're mostly German.

Rob : Kraftwerk? Falco? Hasselhoff?

Caroline Fortis : Excuse me, is this Stereolab?

Rob : Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Caroline Fortis : I haven't heard this one. It's really good.

Rob : Yeah, I know

Caroline Fortis : Are you Bob?

Rob : Rob.

Rob Gordon : Ryuichi Sakamoto... Sigue Sigue Sputnik... Break Beats... Serge Gainsbourg? What, are you guys stealing for other people?

Vince : No, those are for us.

Rob Gordon : You guys slamming to Joni Mitchell now?

Justin : You know, that's so bigoted, to look at us and think you know what we listen to!

Rob : Some people never got over Vietnam or the night their band opened for Nirvana. I guess I never got over Charlie.

Marie De Salle : I think its okay if you feel horny and fucked-up at the same time. I mean, why should we be denied our basic human rights, just 'cause we messed up our relationships.

Rob : You think sex is a basic human right?

Marie De Salle : Hell, yeah! yeah!

Rob : [referring to Ian]  I didn't like the guy before, but I fucking hate him now.

Rob : She was nice. Nice manners. Nice grades. Nice looking. She was so nice, in fact, that she wouldn't let me put my hand underneath or even on top of her bra. Attack and defense. Invasion and repulsion.

Rob : To be honest, I hadn't met anyone as promising as Laura since I started DJing. I mean, promising women is kind of what the DJ thing's supposed to be about.

Rob : And then we made love. It was great. That's it. I'm not going to go into all that other stuff, you know, the who did what to whom stuff. You know that song, "Behind Closed Doors," by Charlie Rich? It's one of my favorite songs. I can say we had a good time. I can say that.

Rob : Some people never got over 'Nam. Some people never got over when their band opened up for Madonna. That's the way I was with Charlie.

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High Fidelity (2000) John Cusack as Rob Gordon

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Back row, next to the blues.

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In 2020 Hulu released a High Fidelity long form romantic comedy series. The story is told this time around from the female perspective and the star Zoe Kravitz who plays Rob, her mother, Lisa Bonet starred as Marie De Salle in the original film.

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Because I love film script formats and this scene is simple short but effective and direct.

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A film review of High Fidelity from 2000.

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What is it about pop-chart rankings and baseball statistics that can turn a grown man into a talking encyclopedia who spits out prize trivia with the vehemence of a sidewalk prophet quoting scripture? Nearly two decades ago, Barry Levinson's ''Diner,'' a movie drenched in late-50's nostalgia, touched knowingly on the adolescent male obsession with such things (the relative merits of Frank Sinatra versus Johnny Mathis, the B-sides and label credits of early rhythm-and-blues singles). Now we have ''High Fidelity,'' Stephen Frears's witty, exquisitely fine-tuned screen adaptation of Nick Hornby's 1995 novel, whose narrator, Rob Gordon (John Cusack), is a walking data bank of pop-music lore.

The manager of Championship Vinyl, a Chicago record store that in addition to selling CD's, specializes in vinyl copies of hard-to-find albums, Rob also moonlights as a nightclub D.J. and small-time entrepreneur. He and his two music-fanatic clerks, Barry (Jack Black) and Dick (Todd Louiso), are so smug in their superior musical tastes that when a clueless middle-aged customer requests Stevie Wonder's ''I Just Called to Say I Love You'' for his daughter's birthday, Barry jeers him out of the store.

Rob and his colleagues are so immersed in pop culture that they give the most important events of their lives hit-parade rankings. Early in the film, Rob, reflecting on his disastrous love life, announces that his recently departed girlfriend, Laura (Iben Hjejle), didn't make the list of his all-time top-five breakups. Addressing the camera, he proceeds to name the top five, beginning with his junior high school sweetheart, Alison (Shannon Stillo), and continuing with Penny (Joelle Carter), Charlie (Catherine Zeta-Jones) and Sarah (Lili Taylor). Each breakup has its own vignette and flashback. Ultimately, Rob decides Laura qualifies after all, and ranks her No. 5 with a bullet. Trivia fanatics will note that the movie's list isn't identical to the novel's.

In fact, the movie has made many alterations from the book, the most significant being the story's relocation from England to the United States. Championship Vinyl is now in Chicago, not London. But despite the change of venue, the movie remains remarkably true to the novel's spirit. If the characters' musical obsessions don't precisely coincide with those of the novel, they haven't been softened. The esoterica Rob and his colleagues swap with such competitive zeal remains as specialized (and as accurate) as before. To them, the ultimate measure of a person's value is hip musical taste.

Even more sharply than the book, the movie evokes the turmoil of urban single life with a quirky mixture of confessional poignancy and dry, self-deflating humor. Rob's relationships -- with their petty grievances, arguments and small accumulated misunderstandings -- have a pulsing flesh-and-blood reality. The women in his life, by turns charming, impulsive and sexy, each in a different way, are no romantic pushovers. And in so precisely evoking the prickly intimacy of a loosely knit group of friends and lovers, the movie is a triumphant return to form for Mr. Frears, whose last film, the turgid modern western ''The Hi-Lo Country,'' found him way out of his element.

''High Fidelity'' is an equal triumph for Mr. Cusack, who wrote the script with three collaborators (D. V. DeVincentis, Steve Pink and Scott Rosenberg). Their screenplay, some of it taken directly from the novel's pages, shares the main character's musical passions but has enough perspective to recognize Rob's pop fanaticism as a sign of his arrested emotional development.

In his winning performance, Mr. Cusack finesses the tricky task of alternately telling his story to the camera as though he were talking to a friend, and living it. A master at projecting an easygoing camaraderie, he navigates the transitions with such an astonishing naturalness and fluency that you're almost unaware of them. At the same time, he makes Rob so charming that even when he behaves badly, our immediate impulse is to rationalize and forgive.

And the better we get to know Rob, the clearer it becomes that far from being a sad-sack loser at love with a lifelong pattern of being dumped, he tilts more toward being a sneaky commitment-phobic womanizer. When he finally tells us why Laura left him (the reasons are offered as another witty list), the behavior he owns up to with a disarming casualness isn't simply bad; it's appallingly insensitive.

The movie's basic plot follows Rob's attempts to win back Laura, who to his chagrin becomes involved with her upstairs neighbor, Ian (Tim Robbins), a pompous expert in conflict resolution who flaunts an obnoxious New Age vocabulary. But even as Rob makes headway in his campaign, he slips into a casual affair with Marie De Salle (Lisa Bonet), a sultry up-and-coming singer with a taste for Peter Frampton songs, and pursues a budding flirtation with Caroline (Natasha Gregson Wagner), an admiring rock journalist.

Besides Mr. Cusack's Rob, the movie is sparked by more than half a dozen incisive performances. As Laura, Ms. Hjejle successfully walks a difficult tightrope between willfulness and vulnerability. Ms. Zeta-Jones's Charlie epitomizes a supercilious yuppie chauvinism of a particularly nasty sort, while Ms. Taylor's flailingly self-dramatic Sarah is a heat seeker after emotional distress. Joan Cusack has an acidly funny turn as Laura's best friend, Liz, a first-class scold.

Best of all are Mr. Louiso and Mr. Black as Rob's geeky partners in perpetual adolescence. Mr. Louiso's Dick is a quivering, bashful nerd waiting for a girl to appear in the store who recognizes him as her ideal man when shared musical tastes miraculously coincide. Mr. Black's Barry is Dick's opposite, a loudmouthed know-it-all who wields his musical taste with bullying defensiveness.

For all its finely calibrated emotions, ''High Fidelity'' (like ''Diner'') is a very small portrait of a hothouse world that even now is in the process of disappearing. Five years ago, when the novel came out, it seemed much more contemporary than it does today in the era of the computer nerd and MP3 downloads. There's finally no escaping the fact that the vinyl junkies the movie celebrates already seem like prehistoric relics. That said, ''High Fidelity'' gives these dinosaurs the most heartfelt and respectful valediction they could hope for.

''High Fidelity'' is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It has sexual situations and some strong language.

HIGH FIDELITY

Directed by Stephen Frears; written by D. V. DeVincentis, Steve Pink, John Cusack and Scott Rosenberg, based on the book by Nick Hornby; director of photography, Seamus McGarvey; edited by Mick Audsley; music by Howard Shore; production designers, David Chapman and Therese DePrez; produced by Tim Bevan and Rudd Simmons; released by Touchstone Pictures. Running time: 107 minutes. This film is rated R.

WITH: John Cusack (Rob), Iben Hjejle (Laura), Todd Louiso (Dick), Jack Black (Barry), Lisa Bonet (Marie De Salle), Catherine Zeta-Jones (Charlie), Joan Cusack (Liz), Tim Robbins (Ian), Shannon Stillo (Alison), Joelle Carter (Penny), Lili Taylor (Sarah) and Natasha Gregson Wagner (Caroline).

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FILM REVIEW; The Trivially Hip: A Music Geek's Warped Love Life (Published 2000)

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What is it about pop-chart rankings and baseball statistics that can turn a grown man into a talking encyclopedia who spits out prize trivia with the vehemence of a sidewalk prophet quoting scripture?

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What is the number of films John and his sister Joan Cusack have been in together?
HIGH FIDELITY!
Class
Sixteen Candles
Grandview, USA
Broadcast News
Say Anything...
Grosse Pointe Blank
Cradle Will Rock
Martian Child
War, Inc

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If i were to say to you, "I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet." What would that mean?

I'd think you were a cinematic idiot and I'd feel sorry for you.

*Evil Dead II is the subject for my final analysis project.*

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I wonder if that website still works...

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Enjoy the laughs courtesy of Jack Black.

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Seeing old school movie trailers from my younger days makes me happy. Everything truly has a different feel with each decade. This film is iconic in its early 2000's comedy and dramatic structure. Nostalgia is fun!

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"High Fidelity (2000)" Theatrical Trailer

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If ever you are in need of a pick me up when you are feeling down or in need of some strength, this song is good for that. Found on the High Fidelity soundtrack. Nothing beats good ole Bob.

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For a film about a person who owns a record store of course the soundtrack needs to be amazing yet in its own individuality it maintains a sense of indie rock independence and pop culture subtlety. Stacked with well selected tracks that support the diagetic content of the film. Rob being the critic that he is, comforts himself in the film with some of the all time greats as he confides in you the viewer as a friend during his time of heartbreak and coming to terms with himself.

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Todd Louiso, also known for snakes on a plane, Jerry Maguire and Apollo 13) portrays the timid intellectual and awkward character "🤬". Even awkward people have shoulders to cry on and are there to listen and give advice. The character embodies the awkward nervousness found in us all. One of the films sub plots centers around this character and is a fun wish come true situation and necessary character in the overall story.

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When I saw this film I found myself relating to Rob Gordon on many levels and I always felt like he was speaking my language and ability to express himself though being awkward and passionate about music. I too began sort of cataloging my favorite things and really giving it some thought about what are my top five bands, books, television series etc. I can tell you now my top five in pretty much everything, but my all time top five desert island albums are.

1.Deftones "White Pony"
2.Portishead "Portishead"
3.Pink Floyd "DSOTM"
4.Purity Ring "Shrines"
5.Massive Attack "Mezzanine"

What are your top five albums?

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The novel written by Nick Hornby and published in 1995. I hadn't read this book until I saw the film but did so promptly after I discovered it was a novel. Highly recommend giving this one a read if you are a fan of the picture.  International best seller!

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I can think of three possibles if we go with the name Steve and the late 80s, early 90s. My first thought was Steve Forbert--singer-songwriter, some sI can think of three possibles if we go with the name Steve and the late 80s, early 90s. My first thought was Steve Forbert--singer-songwriter, some success but not wildly famous, and does write songs about relationships at times. My second guess is Steve Earle. Of the era, famous, but not totally famous, singer-songwriter, and Texas connection. Another Texan is Stevie Ray Vaughn, but not really a match for the song writing. ...more (less)

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I can think of three possibles if we go with the name Steve and the late 80s, early 90s. My first thought was Steve Forbert--singer-songwriter, some sI can think of three possibles if we go with the name Steve and the late 80s, early 90s.

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I could write the words from the script here but it would never do Jack Black justice for one of his finest scenes in his expansive career. I still laugh every time i see this and you will to. #cosbysweater

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High Fidelity - Jack Black´s Monday Tape

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If anyone has ever made a mix tape meant for another person either friend or a romantic interest, they understand the ritual involved  in their creation and the delicate process of such.

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"Top five musical crimes perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the 80's and 90's go. SUB QUESTION, is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day sins? Is it better to burn out than to fade away?.

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What are the top five musical crimes perpetuated by Stevie Wonder in the '80s and '90s?

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Answer (1 of 2): I agree in principle with Larry White. With SW's track record he shouldn't ever be punished for his latter day crimes, but crimes they are, nonetheless: 1: I Just Called to Say I Love You. To me this is his swan song as an artist.

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What came first, the music or the misery?
People worry about kids playing with guns and watching violent videos, we're scared that some sort of culture of violence is taking them over but nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss.

Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because i listened to pop music...

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FADE IN:

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

STEREO

Not a minisystem, not a matching set, but coveted audiophile
clutter of McIntosh and Nakamichi, each component from a
different era, bought piece by piece in various nanoseconds
of being flush.

		ROB (V.O.)
	What came first?  The music or the
	misery?  People worry about kids
	playing with guns and watching
	violent videos, we're scared that
	some sort of culture of violence is
	taking them over...

RECORDS

Big thin LPs.  Fields of them.  We move across them, slowly...
they seem to come to rest in an end of a few books... but
then the CD's start, and go on, faster and faster, forever
then the singles, then the tapes...

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	But nobody worries about kids
	listening to thousands -- literally
	thousands -- of songs about broken
	hearts and rejection and pain and
	misery and loss.

It seems the records, tapes, and CD's will never end until...
we come to ROB -- always a hair out of place, a face that
grows on you.  He sits in an oversized beanbag chair and
addresses us, the wall of music behind him.

		ROB
	Did I listen to pop music because I
	was miserable, or was I miserable
	because I listened to pop music?

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

A group of bags huddled next to the door.  Not the go-on-
vacation set, but the clothes-to-coffee-maker moving out
variety.  Rob stares at them, his face unreadable, his head
gripped by a big pair Boudokan headphones.  We hear what he
is hearing, something foreboding and upbeat at the same time.

LAURA, Rob's girlfriend, enters the room, and he immediately
pulls the headphones off.  She clocks him for a moment, catching
him in what seems to be an old and repeated moment of
nonpresence.  She begins to heft the bags, Rob goes to her, a
little tardy for his big goodbye.  Laura begins to cry a bit.

		LAURA
	I don't really know what I'm doing.

He smiles, and she doesn't.  He adjusts.

		ROB
	You don't have to go this second.
	You can stay until whenever.

		LAURA
	We've done the hard part now.  I
	might as well, you know...

		ROB
	Well stay for tonight, then.

Laura shakes her head, lifts the last small bag, and backs
out the door.  A strap catches on a handle and the two of
them wrestle with it a bit, while trying to keep the door
open, until Laura awkwardly disappears from view and the
door shuts behind Rob.  He stays right there staring at the
shut door for a long moment, listening to the fading sound
of Laura and her dragging bags.

STEREO

Rob's left hand cranks the volume knob while his right
switches the CD changer to something loud and adrenal.  He
addresses us again.

		ROB
	My desert-island, all-time, top
	five most memorable break-ups, in
	chronological order are as follows:
	Alison Ashworth, Penny Hardwick,
	Jackie Allen, Charlie Nicholson,
	Sarah Kendrew.

INT. APARTMENT STAIRWELL

Laura drags her bags, banging down the stairs --

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT

Rob moves around the apartment, seeming to expand physically,
looking for change as he continues.

		ROB
	Those were the ones that really
	hurt.  Can you see your name in
	that list, Laura?  Maybe you'd
	sneak into the top ten, but there's
	no place for you in the top five.
	Sorry.  Those places are reserved
	for the kind of humiliations and
	heartbreaks that you're just not
	capable of delivering.

He adjusts the angle of the TV, stuffs a creepy family
portrait into a drawer.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	That probably sounds crueler than
	it's meant to, but the fact is,
	we're too old to take each other
	miserable.  Unhappiness used to
	mean something.  Now it's just a
	drag like a cold or having no money.

He moves through the living room to an open window facing
the street.  Looking down two stories, he sees Laura emerge
from the building and drag her bags toward her car across
the street.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	If you really wanted to mess me up,
	you should have got to me earlier.

						CUT TO:

EXT. SUBURBAN PARK - DUSK - 1980

Rob and Alison sit on the bench, kissing awkwardly.

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	Which brings us to number one.
	Alison Ashworth.

PARK BENCH - DUSK

The same shot, the next night: new clothes, same clumsy
make-out session.

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	My relationship with Alison Ashworth
	lasted six hours.

PARK BENCH - DUSK

...Next night...

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	The two hours after school and
	before The Rockford Files, three
	days in a row.  On the fourth
	afternoon.

SAME PARK BENCH

...And the fourth night...

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	Kevin Bannister.

Alison and another boy, KEVIN BANNISTER.  Kissing.  In the
background, Rob approaches and stops.  He implodes with
self-consciousness and humiliation and attempts to affect a
casual gait as he mopes away.

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	It would be nice to think that
	since I was fourteen, times have
	changed, relationships have become
	more sophisticated, females less
	cruel, skins thicker, but there
	still seems to be an element of
	that afternoon in everything that
	has happened to me since.  All my
	other romantic stories seem to be a
	scrambled version of that first one.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT

Rob sits in his chair, a cord leading from the stereo to
headphones draped around his neck.  Behind him is the wall
of music.

		ROB
	Number two.  Penny Hardwick.  Penny
	was great-looking, and her top five
	recording artists were Carly Simon,
	Carole King, James Taylor, Cat
	Stevens, and Elton John...

He lets the needle down on the turntable next to him.
"Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon begins to play as
PRESENCE...

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL LAWN - FLASHBACK - MOS

... and continues as SOUNDTRACK.  PENNY, 16, is walking
across the grass toward us.  She's the clean, sporty, nice
wholesome girl-next-door.  She waves tp off-camera friends,
smiling a winning smile.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Everybody liked her.  She was nice.
	Nice manners.  Nice grades.  Nice-
	looking.

INT. PENNY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Penny and Rob sit on the edge of the bed, kissing.  Rob
moves his hand up toward the breast, but the hand then seems
to have a new idea, and dives south to follow the thigh into
Penny's skirt...

		ROB (V.O.)
	She was so nice, in fact, that she
	wouldn't let me put my hand
	underneath, or even on top of, her
	bra.

... when he contacts skin, Penny rolls like a gymnast away
and off of the bed, out of frame.  Rob looks away balefully.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

"Nobody Does It Better" continues as Rob walks Penny to her
front door.  She is smiling, he seems distant.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Penny was nice, but I wasn't
	interested in nice, just breasts,
	and therefore she was no good to me.
	And so I was finished with her.

She leans in to kiss him, and he shrugs her off.

		ROB
	What's the point?  It never goes
	anywhere.

Without looking at her, Rob turns and walks down the street,
getting smaller.  Penny watches for a while.

						CUT TO:

INT. "EL" TRAIN CAR - MORNING - PRESENT

Rob sways with the other commuters.

		ROB
	She cried, and I hated her for it,
	because she made me feel bad.  I
	started dating a girl who everybody
	said would put out, and Penny went
	with this asshole Chris Thompson
	who told me that he had sex with
	her after something like three
	dates.  How had Penny gone from
	a girl who wouldn't do anything to
	a girl who would do everything?

A BUSINESSMAN looks up from his paper at Rob, then back down.

EXT. CLARK STREET - DAY

An old Chicago block of local merchants, on a busy street.
Rob makes his way down the street, jangling a set of keys
and talking to us.

		ROB
	My store's right up here.  It's
	called The Record Exchange.  It's
	carefully placed to attract the
	bare minimum of window shoppers.

Rob arrives at a storefront, and begins unlocking a rusty
gate with two locks and then a beaten-down door.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	I get by because of the people who
	make a special effort to shop here
	on Saturday young men, always young
	men, who spend a disproportionate
	amount of their time looking for
	deleted Smiths singles and "original
	not rereleased" underline Frank
	Zappa albums.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

In almost darkness.  More light might penetrate the windows
if there weren't so many record-release posters taped to
them.  A dusty narrow corridor clad in burlap and shag rug.
On the walls are bagged 45's you will never hear unless you
commit your life to the losing proposition of listening to
every noodling of Jah Wobble and Glen Glenn and other people
you've never heard of.

But as Rob opens the door, enters, and flips a switch
causing the fluorescents to sputter, we see in his eyes the
reverence and earnestness of a football coach gazing across
an empty field or a priest drawn at midnight to his empty
church.

		ROB
	The fetish properties are not
	unlike porn.  I would feel guilty
	taking their money if I wasn't,
	kind of, well, one of them.

As he walks one of the two slim aisles toward the back, he
stops on a dime, steps back and pulls a CD from the sea and
replaces it almost the same position, but not quite --
meticulousness and pride in this gesture...

After a moment the door creaks open behind Rob, admitting
DICK, a nervous, forlorn but sweet and intelligent discophile
with long greasy black hair, a Sonic Youth T-shirt, a
monstrous pair of headphones, and a canvas record bag
emblazoned with a label logo.

		ROB
	'Morning, Dick.

		DICK
	Oh, hi.  Hi, Rob.

		ROB
	Good weekend?

		DICK
	Yeah, OK.  I found the first
	Licorice Comfits album at Vintage
	Vinyl.  The one on Testament of
	Youth.  Never released here.
	Japanese import only.

		ROB
	Great.

		DICK
	I'll tape it for you.

		ROB
	No, that's okay.  Really.

		DICK
	'Cause you like their second one,
	you said, Pop, Girls. etc.  The one
	with Cheryl Ladd on the cover.  You
	didn't see the cover though.

		ROB
	Yeah, I haven't really absorbed
	that one.

		DICK
	Well, I'll just make it for you.

		ROB
		(resigned)
	Okay.

						CUT TO:
.INT. RECORD STORE - LATER

Dick is behind the counter, Rob in the aisles with a
clipboard doing inventory.

		ROB
		(re: music)
	What's this?

		DICK
	The new Belle and Sebastian.  Like
	it?

The door flies open and BARRY, an acid-tongued post-punk
rock misanthrope without quite enough intelligence to
conceptualize his own rebellion, walks in.  His teeth are
clenched in air-guitar concentration and he's phonetically
cranking a Clash riff:

		BARRY
	BAA!  BA BA DANG!

Dick shrinks back from him instinctively.  He stops mid-step
and cocks his ear at the music playing in the store.  His
face adopts an exaggerated grimace.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	Holy Shiite!  What the fuck's this?

		DICK
	It's the new --

		ROB
	It's the record we've been listening
	to and enjoying, Barry.

Barry moves in on the stereo behind the counter, and Dick
gets out of his way.

		BARRY
	Well that's problematic because it
	sucks ass.

He pops the CD out and frisbees it to Dick.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
		(re: the CD)
	Yours, I assume...

Barry pulls a tape out of his jacket and jams it in.  "How
to Kill a Radio Consultant" by Public Enemy comes through at
through the red levels.
.			ROB
		(over the blare)
	TURN IT OFF, BARRY.

		BARRY
	IT WON'T GO ANY LOUDER.

Barry walks in rhythm toward the stockroom and disappears.
Rob goes behind the counter and stops the tape.  Barry's
head pops out of the stockroom.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	What are you doing?

		ROB
	I don't want to hear Public Enemy
	right now.

		BARRY
	Public Enemy!  All I'm trying to do
	is cheer us up.  Go ahead and put
	on some old sad bastard music see
	if I care.

		ROB
	I don't want old sad bastard music
	either.  I just want something I
	can ignore.

		BARRY
	But it's my new tape.  My Monday
	morning tape.  I made it last night
	just for today.

		ROB
	Yeah, well it's fucking Monday
	afternoon.  You should get out of
	bed earlier.

		BARRY
	Don't you want to hear what's next?

		ROB
	What's next?

		BARRY
	Play it.

		ROB
	Say it.

		BARRY
		(sighs)
	"Little Latin Lupe Lu."

Rob groans.

		DICK
	Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels?

		BARRY
		(defensive)
	No.  The Righteous Brothers.

		DICK
	Oh well.  Nevermind.

Barry bristles and moves slowly in on Dick.

		BARRY
	What?

		DICK
	Nothing.

		BARRY
	No, not nothing.  What's wrong with
	the Righteous Brothers?

		DICK
	Nothing.  I just prefer the other
	one.

		BARRY
	Bullshit.

		ROB
	How can it be bullshit to state a
	preference?

		BARRY
	Since when did this shop become a
	fascist regime?

		ROB
	Since you brought that bullshit
	tape in.

		BARRY
		(sarcastic)
	Great.  That's the fun of working
	in a record store.  Playing crappy
	pap you don't want to listen to.  I
	thought this tape was going to be,
	you know, a conversation stimulator.
	I was going to ask you for your top
	five records to play on a Monday
	morning and all that, and you just
	had to ruin it.

		ROB
	We'll do it next Monday.

		BARRY
	Well what's the point in that?

From outside.  HEAR THE SOUND OF SKATEBOARD WHEELS CLACKING
AND SCRAPING, GETTING LOUDER.  Rob, Dick and Barry stop
fighting to listen, then each moves purposefully to a spot
in the store.  Dick to the register, Barry to the back, Rob
next to the door, as if bracing for a street fight.

The SOUND gets closer, then stops.  The door swings open to
admit VINCE and JUSTIN, two fifteen-year-old skate punks.
Vince's hair is post-apocolyptically hacked to different
lengths, Justin's in uniformly shaven with leopard spots
dyed browse.  Rob follows them, watching their every move.
Dick counters from his perch, getting another angle.  Barry
cracks his knuckles threateningly.  Vince and Justin do
their best browser impersonations.  Finally Justin plucks a
CD, and the two move to the counter.

		ROB
	Hey.  Didn't you steal that one
	already?

		DICK
	Can I help you?

		JUSTIN
	Just this.

		DICK
	That'll be fifteen-twenty-seven.

Vince reaches into his deep pocket and pulls out a paper
cup, with piece of paper attached that says "Please help me.
I'm retarded."  He pours a mass of change and crumpled
singles onto the counter.  Dick begins counting it out.

		VINCE
	Isn't your name Dick?

		DICK
	Yes.

		VINCE
	That sucks.  Get it?

Dick cracks a sad smile for a second.  He bags the CD and
Vince and Justin are off.  Rob walks back through the stock
room door.

						CUT TO:
.INT. RECORD STORE - STOCK ROOM - LATER

Rob is on his knees, opening boxes with a razor knife.  He
talks to us as he works.

		ROB
	I'm sick of the sight of this
	place, to be honest.  Some days I'm
	afraid --

Dick sticks his head in the door, looks at Rob, looks where
Rob is looking (camera), and retreats back through the door.
Rob continues.

		ROB
	I'm afraid I'll go berserk, rip the
	Elvis Costello mobile from the
	ceiling, throw the "Country Artists
	Male A-K" rack out onto the streets,
	go off to work in a Virgin Megastore
	and never come back --

He hears the bell on the front door RING, and he stops and
listens, looks a bit worried.

		CUSTOMER (O.S.)
	I'm looking for a record for my
	daughter.  For her birthday.  "I
	Just Called To Say I Love You." Do
	you have it?

		BARRY (O.S.)
	Oh yeah.  We got it.

Rob relaxes and goes back to work.

		CUSTOMER (O.S.)
	Great.  Can I have it then?

		BARRY (O.S.)
	No, you can't.

Rob deflates, shaking his head.

STORE FLOOR

Barry leans back, elbows up on the counter behind him,
talking to the CUSTOMER, a middle-aged graying man in a
raincoat.

		CUSTOMER
	Why not?

		BARRY
	Because it's sentimental tacky
	crap, that's why not.  Do we look
	like the kind of store that sells
	"I Just Called To Say I Loved You?"
	Go to the mall and stop wasting our
	time.

		CUSTOMER
	What's your problem?  What did I...
	Why are you --

		BARRY
	Do you even know your daughter?
	There is no way she likes that song.
	Or is she in a coma?

The Customer throws up his hands and starts out of the store.

		CUSTOMER
	Okay, okay, buddy.  I didn't know
	it was Pick On the Middle-Aged
	Square Guy Day.  My apologies.
	I'll be on my way.

He steps out of the door.

		BARRY
	B'Bye!

Outside, anger catches up to the Customer.  He turns and
throws up a middle finger --

		CUSTOMER
	FUCK YOU!

-- and bolts.  Barry smiles and turns to see

ROB

standing in the doorway of the stock room.  He feigns
applause.

		ROB
	Nice, Barry.

		BARRY
	Rob.  Top five musical crimes
	perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the
	'80's and '90's.  Subquestion -- is
	it in fact unfair to criticize a
	formerly great artist for his
	latter-day sins?  "Is it better to
	burn out than to fade away?"

		ROB
	You just drove a fucking customer
	away, Barry.

		BARRY
	We didn't even really have it.  I
	happen to know for a fact that the
	only Stevie Wonder single we have
	is "Don't Drive Drunk." I was just
	goofing on the straight, and it
	never cost you a penny.

		ROB
	Not the point.

		BARRY
	Oh, so what's the point then?

		ROB
	I don't want you talking to our
	customers like that again.

		BARRY
	"Our customers?" You think that Mr.
	L.L. Bean out there is going to be
	a regular?

Rob's face begins to redden with anger.

		ROB
	Barry, I'm fucking broke!  I know
	we used to fuck with anyone who
	asked for anything we didn't like,
	but it's gotta stop.

		BARRY
	Bullshit.  The guy was going to buy
	one record -- which we didn't even
	have -- and leave and never come
	back again anyway.  Why not have a
	little fun?  Big fucking deal.

		ROB
	What did he ever do to you?

		BARRY
	He offended me with his terrible
	taste.

		ROB
	It wasn't even his terrible taste.
	It was his daughter's.

		BARRY
	Oh, now you're defending that
	motherfucker?  You're going soft in
	your old age, Rob.  There was a
	time when you would have chased him
	out of the store and up the street.
	Now all of a sudden I'm offending
	your golf buddy.
		(sarcastic)
	You're right, Rob.  I am so sorry.
	How are we ever going to make
	enough money to get you and Laura
	into the country club?

Rob is red and seething.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	And by the way, I tell you this for
	your own good: That's the worst
	sweater I've ever seen.  I have
	never seen a sweater that bad worn
	by anyone I'm on speaking terms
	with.  It's a disgrace to the human
	race.

Rob springs on Barry, grabbing him by the lapels and jerking
him up against the wall.  Rob is so mad he can't say anything.

		DICK
	Hey, guys... Hey.

Rob runs out of steam and drops Barry, who backpedals fast.

		BARRY
		(extremely shaken)
	What are you, some kind of fucking
	maniac?  If this jacket's torn
	you're gonna pay big.

Barry stomps out of the store.  Rob turns and goes back to
the stockroom, and sits on the stepladder.  Dick appears in
the doorway, terrified.

		DICK
	Are you all right?

		ROB
	Yeah.  I'm sorry... Look Dick,
	Laura and I broke up.  She's gone.
	And if we ever see Barry again
	maybe you can tell him that.
.			DICK
	'Course I will, Rob.  No problem.
	No problem at all.  I'll tell him
	next time I see him.

Rob nods.  Dick sets out into the uncharted conversational
territory of interpersonal relationships.

		DICK (CONT'D)
	I've ah... got some other stuff to
	tell him anyway, so it's no problem.
	I'll just tell him about, you know,
	Laura, when I tell him the other
	stuff.

		ROB
	Fine.

		DICK
	I'll start with your news before I
	tell him mine, obviously.  Mine
	isn't much, really, just about
	Marie LaSalle
		(flashes CD of pretty woman)
	playing at Lounge Ax tonight.  I
	like her, you know, she's kind of
	Sheryl Crowish... but, you know,
	good.  So I'll tell him before that.
	Good news and bad news kind of thing.

Dick laughs nervously.

		DICK (CONT'D)
	Or rather, bad news and good news,
	because he likes this person
	playing tonight.  I mean, he liked
	Laura too, I didn't mean that.  And
	he likes you.  It's just that --

		ROB
	I understand, Dick.

		DICK
	Sure.  'Course.  Rob, look.  Do you
	want to... talk about it, that kind
	of thing?

Rob looks up at Dick, who is so nervous that his brow is wet.

		ROB
	No.  Thanks though, Dick.

Dick sighs with relief, and smiles his way out of the stock
room.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	Number three in the top five break-
	ups was Charlie Nicholson, sophomore
	year of college.  Some people never
	got over 'Nam, or the night their
	band opened for Nirvana.  I guess I
	never really got over Charlie.

						CUT TO:

EXT. COLLEGE QUAD - DAY - FLASHBACK

About twenty feet away we see a tall, thin beauty, bleach-
blonde hair cropped short in darling '80's new-wave asymmetry.
She is speaking animatedly to a PAMPHLETEER, driving her
points home with a forefinger.

		ROB (V.O.)
	She looked different.  Dramatic.
	Exotic.  She talked a lot, about
	remarkably interesting things like
	music, books, film, and politics...

INT. CAFE - DAY

A younger Rob sits amongst a group of STUDENTS who are
engaged in a heated conversation.  He is smiling, mouth
closed, just happy to be there.  Charlie sitting next to
him, tousles his hair as she talks incessantly.

		ROB (V.O.)
		(over her talking)
	...so we didn't have those terrible,
	strained sentences, that seemed to
	characterized most of my
	relationships.  And she liked me.
	She liked me.  She liked me.

Charlie gives Rob a quick kiss and keeps talking...

EXT. STREET - AFTERNOON

Rob and Charlie walk arm in arm, Rob in cool clothes and
sunglasses trying to look cool, Charlie making a point about
something.

Rob checks out how cool he looks with her as they walk by a
store window REFLECTION.

		ROB (V.O.)
	We went out for two years, and for
	every single minute I felt as
	though I was standing on a
	dangerously narrow ledge.  I
	couldn't get comfortable, couldn't
	ever stretch out and relax.  Why
	would a girl -- no, a woman -- like
	Charlie go out with someone who
	only a few years ago sewed a Foghat
	patch on his jacket?  I felt like
	all those people who suddenly
	shaved their heads and said they'd
	always been punks.  I felt like a
	fraud.  And I was depressed by the
	lack of flamboyance in my wardrobe...

INT. CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - DAY

The fabulous sophomore design student's studio apartment:
White wood floor, white walls, overvarnished door, Doisneaux
print on the wall, futon on the floor.  Rob lies back on his
elbows, watching Charlie in uncomfortable, worried awe.  She
stands, her back to him, wearing only her underwear and
pulling on a T-shirt -- a heartbreaking image to look back on.

		ROB (V.O.)
	...I worried about my abilities as
	a lover.  I was intimidated by the
	other men in her design department,
	and became convinced that she was
	going to leave me for one of them.

Charlie turns around and looks at Rob with naked ambivalence.

		ROB (V.O.)
	She left me for one of them.  The
	dreaded Marco.

EXT. CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

It is RAINING like crazy, and Rob is shouting up at a lit
window, maniacally gesturing.  The curtains part and
Charlie's figure appears, clad only in a sheet.  Next to her
is a tall, built, handsome man, MARCO, also in a sheet.
Eventually he falls to his knees with a splash and buries
his head in his hands.  The light goes out.

		ROB (V.O.)
	And I lost it.  I lost it all.
	Dignity, faith, fifteen pounds...

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob wandering through the rain.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Any small idea of personal identity
	that I had acquired up to that point.

INT. SOME RECORD STORE - DAY

A younger and catatonic Rob listlessly sorts through a stack
of records.

		ROB (V.O.)
	I came to three months later, and
	to my surprise had flunked out of
	school and started working in a
	record store.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob stands in front of his wall of music, shifting LPs
around between the shelves and piles on the floor as he
talks to us.

		ROB
	What I really learned from the
	Charlie Debacle is that you gotta
	punch your weight.  Charlie was out
	of my Class: too pretty, too smart,
	too witty, too much.  What am I?
	Average.  A middleweight.  Not the
	smartest guy in the world, but
	certainly not the dumbest.  I've
	read books like The Unbearable
	Lightness of Being, Angela's Ashes,
	and Love in the Time of Cholera,
	and understood them, I think --
	they're about girls, right? -- just
	kidding -- but I don't like them
	very much.  My all time top five
	favorite books are Johnny Cash's
	autobiography, Snow Crash by Neil
	Stevenson, Zen and the Art of
	Motorcycle Maintenance, The Trouser
	Press Guides to Rock, and, I don't
	know, probably something by Kurt
	Vonnegut.  I look through the New
	Yorker when my neighbor's done with
	it, and I'm not averse to going
	down to the Fine Arts to watch
	subtitles films, although on the
	whole I prefer American films.
	Top five being Blade Runner, Cool
	Hand Luke, the first two Godfathers
	which we'll count as one, Taxi
	Driver, and The Shining.  I'm okay
	looking, average height, not
	skinny, not fat.  My genius, if I
	can call it that, is to combine a
	whole load of averageness into one
	compact frame.  You might say there
	were millions like me, but there
	aren't, really: Alot of guys have
	impeccable music taste but don't
	read, alot of guys read but are
	really fat, alot of guys are
	sympathetic to women but have
	stupid beards, alot of guys have a
	Woody Allen sense of humor but look
	like Woody Allen.  Some drink too
	much, some drive like assholes,
	some get into fights, or show off
	money, or do drugs.  I don't do any
	of these things, really.  If I do
	okay with women it's not because of
	the virtues I have, but because of
	the ugly flaws I don't have... So.
	Charlie and I didn't match.  After
	her I was determined to never get
	out of my league again.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob presses play on the answering machine.  A pleasant,
older female voice is heard.  It's JANET, Laura's mother.

		JANET
		(on machine)
	Hello, you two.  Laura, it's your
	mother.  Your father's angina is a
	little rough today and I thought
	he'd like to talk to you.  No big
	deal.  I love you two.  Bye.

Beep.

		LIZ
		(on machine)
	Rob, it's Liz.  Just calling to
	see, well, if you're okay.  Give me
	a ring.  I'm not taking sides.  Yet.
	Lot's of love.  Bye.

He pulls an LP from a shelf, puts it on the turntable and
sits back in his chair.

EXT. LAKE MICHIGAN WATERFRONT - MOS - THE PAST

The MUSIC becomes SOUNDTRACK to the following scenes.  Rob
and SARAH, a thin, modestly attractive young woman, SARAH,
walk and talk.  They seem to be emphatically complaining
together.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Charlie and I didn't match.  Marco
	and Charlie matched.  Me and Sarah,
	number four on the all time break-
	ups list, matched.  She wore more
	or less the same clothes as mine,
	had an acceptable working knowledge
	of music, and she had been dumped
	by some asshole named Michael.  He
	was her moment, Charlie was mine.
	Sarah had sworn off men.  I had
	sworn off women.  It made sense to
	pool our loathing of the opposite
	sex, swear them off together, and
	get to share a bed with someone at
	the same time.

INT. SARAH'S APARTMENT - MOS - NIGHT

Rob and SARAH sit up in bed, staring at the television...

		ROB (V.O.)
	We were frightened of being left
	alone for the rest of our lives.
	Only people of a certain disposition
	are frightened of being alone for
	the rest of their lives at twenty-
	six.  We were of that disposition.
	Everything seemed much later than
	it was.

INT. SARAH'S KITCHEN - MOS - DAY ROB'S POV

of Sarah, sitting across the table, mid-confession.

		ROB (V.O.)
	When she told me that she met
	someone else it made no sense.  Her
	meeting someone else was contrary
	to the whole spirit of our
	arrangement.  All we really had in
	common was that we were dumped by
	people, and that we were against
	dumping.  We were violently anti-
	dump.  So how come I got dumped?

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

The MUSIC becomes PRESENCE again, and Rob takes the needle
off the record.

		ROB
	You run the risk of losing anyone
	who is worth spending time with.
	But I didn't know that at the time.
	All I saw was that I'd moved down a
	division and that it still hadn't
	worked out, and this seemed cause
	for a great deal of misery and
	self-pity.  And that's when Laura
	came along.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is surrounded by stacks of records on the floor.  He
looks to camera.

		ROB
	I'm reorganizing my records tonight.
	It's something I do in times of
	emotional distress.  When Laura was
	here I had them in alphabetical
	order, before that, chronologically.
	Tonight, though, I'm trying to put
	them in the order in which I bought
	them.  That way I can write my own
	autobiography without picking up a
	pen.  Pull them all off the shelves,
	look for Revolver and go from there.
	I'll be able to see how I got from
	Deep Purple to The Soft Boys in
	twenty-five moves.  What I really
	like about my new system is that it
	makes me more complicated than I am.
	To find anything you have to be me,
	or at the very least a doctor in
	Rob-ology.  If you wanna find
	Landslide by Fleetwood Mac you have
	to know that I bought it for
	someone in the fall of 1983 and
	then didn't give it to them for
	personal reasons.  But you don't
	know any of that, do you?  You
	would have to ask me to --

The phone rings again.  Rob picks it up.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Yeah?

		MOM
	Hi, Rob.  It's your mother.

Rob deflates a bit.

		ROB
	Hi, Mom.

		MOM
	Everything all right?

		ROB
	Great.  Super-fantastic.

		MOM
	How's the store?

		ROB
	So so.  Up and down.

		MOM
	Your lucky Laura's doing so well.
	If it wasn't for her, I don't think
	either of us would ever sleep...

Rob holds his lips together with thumb and forefinger, but
succumbs --

		ROB
	She left.  She's gone.

		MOM
	What do you mean?  Where did she go?

		ROB
	How would I know?  Gone.  Girlfriend.
	Leave.  Not say where gone.  Laura
	move out.

		MOM
	Well call her mother.

		ROB
	She just called.  She doesn't even
	know.  It's probably the last time
	I'll ever hear her voice.  That's
	weird, isn't it?  You spend
	Christmas at somebody's house, you
	know, and you worry about their
	operations and you see them in
	their bathrobe, and... I dunno...

Silence.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	There'll be another mom and another
	Christmas.  Right?

Silence... More silence.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Hello?  Anybody there?

The sound of SOFT CRYING

		ROB (CONT'D)
	I'm all right, if that's what's
	upsetting you.

		MOM
	You know that's not what's upsetting
	me.

		ROB
	Well it fucking should be, shouldn't
	it?

		MOM
	I knew this would happen.  What are
	you going to do Rob?

		ROB
	I'm going to drink this bottle of
	wine watch TV and go to bed.  Then
	tomorrow I'll get up and go to work.

		MOM
	And after that?

		ROB
	Meet a nice girl and have children.
	I promise the next time we talk
	I'll have it all sorted out.

		MOM
	I knew this was going to happen.

		ROB
	Then what are you getting so upset
	about?

		MOM
	What did Laura say?  Do you know
	why she left?

		ROB
	It's got nothing to do with
	marriage, if that's what you're
	getting at.

		MOM
	So you say.  I'd like to hear her
	side of it.

		ROB
	Mom!  For the last fucking time,
	I'm telling you Laura didn't want
	to get married!  She is not that
	kind of girl!  To use a phrase.
	That's not what happens now.

		MOM
	Well I don't know what happens now,
	apart from you meet someone, you
	move in, she goes.  You meet
	someone, you move in, she goes.

Silence.  Rob busted.

		ROB
	Shut up, Mom.

Rob hangs up the phone.  He fills up his glass again, takes
a swig, and slumps into a chair.  If there was any wind left
in Rob, it just got knocked out.  After a moment, he gets to
his feet, grabs his jacket and heads out the door.

						CUT TO:

EXT. LOUNGE AX CLUB - LINCOLN AVE. - NIGHT

Rob comes down the street and gets in the short line to
enter the club.  From inside he hears a GUITAR, playing a
tune that becomes familiar not only to Rob, but to us.  When
a strong, lilting female VOICE begins to sing, we hear what
it is: "Baby I Love Your Way," by Peter Frampton.

Rob smiles at first, but begins to darken as the verse
continues.  He steps out of line and leans against the
outside wall, listening.  Is he beginning to cry?  Yes, he
is...

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

		ROB
	Peter.  Frampton.  That perm! "Show
	Me the Way"!  A phenomenon based on
	a live album that was actually
	recorded in a studio!  What is
	happening?  I am getting misty,
	choked up at a song that I had the
	good sense at twelve to realize was
	so saccharine and stupid as to be
	inarticulatable, until Michael Bolton,
	that is.

						CUT BACK TO:

EXT. LOUNGE AX CLUB - LINCOLN AVE.

He looks around self-consciously, and paces a bit, deciding
whether or not to stay.  He takes a deep breath, and heads
in the door.

INT. LOUNGE AX - NIGHT

As Rob enters he looks to the stage, where MARIE LASALLE is
standing alone with her acoustic guitar, heading toward the
song's finish.  Rob's expression begins to shift from the
melancholy to something else altogether.  Marie is beautiful,
and Marie has touched his heart.  Rob navigates toward her
though the small crowd as if pulled by something unseen.  He
addresses us over his shoulder.

		ROB
	Sentimental music makes you
	nostalgic and hopeful at the same
	time.  Marie's the hopeful part.
	Laura's the nostalgia part.  These
	things happen.  They happen to men,
	at any rate.  This is why I
	shouldn't be listening to pop music.

As he gets closer to the stage --

		DICK
	ROB!

Rob looks over to see Dick sitting with Barry, a few feet
away.  He shakes it off and sits with them, extending a
meaningful hand to Barry, who takes it.  They turn back to
the stage as Marie finishes the song.

		ROB
	I always hated this song.

		DICK
	Yeah.

		BARRY
	Yeah.

		ROB
	But now I kind of like it.

Dick and Barry nod, then keep watching.  All three of them
are in their own private fantasies with Marie.

		DICK
	She shouldn't done it on "The
	Number Four With a Smile."

		BARRY
	Isn't her album called "Number Four
	With A Smile?"

		DICK
	That's what I said.

		BARRY
	No, no, no, you said "The Number
	Four With a Smile," and there's no
	"The" at the front of the title of
	the album.

		DICK
	It's a reference to a Chinese meal
	in Toronto and I think that there
	is a "The."  But I could be wrong.

		BARRY
	You can be and are wrong.

They drop it, so that their eyes can drift back to Marie.

		BARRY
	I wanna date a musician...

		ROB
		(nods in agreement)
	I wanna live with a musician.
	She'd write songs at home, ask me
	what she thought of them, maybe
	even include one of our private
	jokes in the liner notes.

		BARRY
	...Maybe a picture of me in the
	liner notes...

		DICK
	Just in the background somewhere.

MARIE

as the song ends, and she smiles out over the room.  The
audience applauds.

		MARIE
	Thanks, you guys, I know I'm not
	supposed to like that song, but I
	do.  I'm gonna take a break for a
	second.  Anybody wants to buy one
	of my tapes, they're five bucks up
	here.  One of my other personalities
	will be selling them.

ROB, DICK, AND BARRY

		BARRY
	Let's go get one.

		ROB
	Let's not.

		DICK
	I want a tape.

Barry and Dick stand and begin to move off...

		ROB
	I don't need to go up there right
	now.

... and they're gone.  After a beat, Rob gets up and follows
them.

FOOT OF THE STAGE

Dick and Barry wait nervously to buy a tape, Rob just behind
them.  Marie processes sales with polite monosyllables,
until the three get up front.

		MARIE
	Enjoying yourselves?

They dart eyes to each other, then nod.

		MARIE (CONT'D)
	Good.  'Cause I'm enjoying myself.

		ROB
	Good.

Rob hands her a ten and she roots around in a duffel bag for
change...

		ROB (CONT'D)
	So you live in Chicago now?

		MARIE
	Yup.  Not far from here, actually.

		BARRY
	You like it?

		MARIE
	It's okay.  Hey.  You guys might be
	the sort to know.  Are there any
	good record stores around here or
	do I have to go downtown?

Barry and Dick do not try to control themselves.  They point
to Rob.

		DICK
	He's got one!

		BARRY
	On Clark Street!

		DICK
	A couple blocks!  About six!

		BARRY
	We work there!

		DICK
	You'd love it!

Marie laughs.

		MARIE
	What do you sell?

		BARRY
	A little of anything that matters.
	Rock, soul, R&B, punk rock, hip-
	hop, ska, new wave...

		MARIE
	Sounds great.

The line behind them is moving in, and Marie smiles at them
and turns to someone else.  They scurry back toward their
table.

		ROB
	What did you tell her about the
	shop for?

		BARRY
	I didn't know it was classified
	information.  I mean, I know we
	don't have any customers, but I
	thought that was a bad thing, not,
	like, a business strategy.

Rob looks over Barry at Marie.  She catches his eye as she
looks over the room.  His eyes shoot to the floor.

						CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - STOCK ROOM - LATER

Rob is going through a huge stack of used CD's, sorting them
off into different bins, bouncing his head absently to the
music -- the same song of Marie's that Rob had on when Laura
called last night.

		BARRY (O.S.)
	ROB!  PHONE!

Rob reaches over and hits the SPEAKER button on the phone,
still in the groove of sorting.

		ROB
	Rob here.

		LIZ (O.S.)
	Hey.  It's Liz.

		ROB
	What's happenin'.

		LIZ
	You called this morning?

		ROB
	Yeah.  I just wanted to thank you
	for that message last night.  It
	made me feel like...like less of an
	asshole.

		LIZ
	How're you holding up?

		ROB
	Actually, I'm fine.  I'm great.
	Last night I got to thinking, "you
	know what?  Maybe it is time to
	move on.  Maybe we're just not
	right for each other.  Or maybe we are.
	But time will tell and at this
	point I'm going to be fine with
	whatever's meant to be." You know?

		LIZ
	Yeah.  Like I said, I don't want to
	take sides.  And I like Laura with
	you.  She's more fun, more open.
	You guys are good together.  I just
	wish you two could, I don't know.
	I don't think much of this Ian
	guy --

-- Dick bursts in, huge-faced --

		DICK
	Rob.

		ROB
	Liz, hold on a second --
		(turns to Dick)
	What?

		DICK
	Marie LaSalle is in the store!
	Here, she's here, and now!

Rob freezes, he and Dick turn to the speaker, which cranks
Marie's voice.  Rob goes to the phone and picks up the
handset.

		ROB
	Liz, can you hold for a second?

He hits hold.

		ROB
		(to Dick)
	I'll be out there!  Go!
		(picks up the phone)
	Hey, Liz, I gotta go... Tomorrow
	night?  Great.  Green Mill.  Fine.
	Seven?  Done.  Thanks.  Right.  Bye.

He hangs up fast, spins around to look in a cracked one-
foot-square cracked mirror bearing the logo of Aerosmith
that is mounted on the wall, and moves out into the

FRONT ROOM

and up the aisle fast toward the stereo where he turns
Marie's music off.  He takes a deep breath and looks up,
meeting her eyes.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Oh.  Hi.

Marie smiles.

		MARIE
		(re: music)
	Don't you like that?

		ROB
	No, no, I love, it's just, thinking
	you're, you must be so sick of it...
	Well.

He reaches back and puts it back on.  He cracks his face
into a smile, then walks fast back to the stock room door.
Marie watches him go.

STOCK ROOM

where as soon as he crosses the threshold his fist clench
and he grimaces:

		ROB (CONT'D)
	WHAT FUCKING IAN GUY?!!

Dick comes in --

		DICK
	Rob --!

		ROB
	-- FUCK OFF!

Dick backs out fast.  Rob leans on a wall.  Barry enters --

		BARRY
	We're only on the fucking list for
	Marie's gig at the Pulaski Pub,
	that's all!  All three of us.

		ROB
	That's fucking great, Barry.  We
	can spend fifteen bucks on a cab to
	save five each.  Fantastic, Barry!

		BARRY
	We can take your car.

		ROB
	It's not my car, now is it?  It's
	Laura's car, and thus Laura has it.
	So it's an ass-bumping double-
	transferring bus ride through
	bumblefuck or a fat wad on a cab.
	Wow.  Fucking great.

Barry sighs, throws up his hands and heads out the door.

		BARRY
	Jaggoff...

Barry exits.  Rob seems to be having trouble staying on his
feet.

		ROB
	Who the fuck is Ian?!

						CUT TO:

INT. ROB'S BUILDING'S LOBBY - NIGHT

Rob enters and walks to the mail table, looking like shit.
He starts sifting through envelopes for his.

		ROB
	Laura doesn't know anybody called
	Ian.  There's no Ian at her office.
	She has no friends named Ian.  She
	has never met anyone called Ian in
	her whole life.  Although there may
	have been one in college -- but I
	am almost certain that since 1989
	she has lived in an Ian-less
	universe.

He slows... and stops.  His face gets a little paler as he
lifts a letter up to his face.

CLOSE-UP: LETTER

A cable service bill to a Mr. I. Raymond.

ROB

as he looks at it, divining.

		ROB
	"I. Raymond." Ray. "I." IAN.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.
.			ROB
	Mr. I Raymond. "Ray" to his friends,
	and, more importantly, to his
	neighbors.  The guy who up until
	about six weeks ago lived upstairs.
	I knew it was him the moment I saw
	the letter.  I start to remember
	things now: His stupid clothing,
	his music -- Latin, Bulgarian,
	whatever fucking world music was
	trendy that week--stupid laugh,
	awful cooking smells.  I can't
	remember anything good about him at
	all.  I never liked him much then,
	and I fucking hate him now... I
	manage to block out the worst, most
	painful, most disturbing memory of
	him until I go to bed.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Darkness.  We move silently through the rooms, and enter the
bedroom... closer to the bed, we see Rob on his back, sheets
held clenched up to his chin.  He stares at the ceiling,
sadly.

JUMP CUT

to almost the same shot, but it's Rob and Laura in the bed,
semi-tangled.  Laura has a book in her lap.  A CREAKING is
heard.  Laura's eyes go to the ceiling, and Rob sits up at
attention.  They look up at the light fixture, which shakes
a little faster, with the rhythm of the creaking.  Someone
is definitely having sex upstairs, and they are going for it.

		ROB
	Jeez.  He goes on long enough.

		LAURA
	I should be so lucky.

They turn to each other and laugh.

JUMP CUT BACK

to Rob lying still in bed, staring at the ceiling.

		ROB
	You are as abandoned and as noisy
	as any character in a porn film,
	Laura.  You are Ian's plaything,
	responding to his touch with
	shrieks of orgasmic delight.
	No woman in the history of the
	world is having better sex than the
	sex you are having with Ian in my
	head.

ROB'S IAN-LAURA SEX NIGHTMARE - QUICK CUTS

Ian mercilessly savages Laura from behind, below, and above,
champagne showers, toe-sucking, and animal screams --

BACK TO ROB IN BED,

imploding with disgust and sorrow.  Tears run down his
cheeks into his ears.

		ROB
	Number five -- Jackie Allen.  My
	break up with Jackie Allen had no
	effect on my life whatsoever.  I
	just slotted her in to bump you out
	of position, Laura.  Yes, you do in
	fact make it into the top five.
	Welcome.  And just to remind you,
	the list is in chronological order,
	not in the order of pain and
	suffering.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Dick and Barry are stocking the racks.  Rob stands at the
register, rocking back and forth sort of like an idiot, to
"Always and Forever" by the Commodores.  He is a mess.

		FEMALE VOICE
	Hey.

Rob looks up to see a nineteen or twenty-year-old GIRL
standing in front of him.

		GIRL
	Do you have soul?

Rob smiles bitterly at her, clearly having a different
meaning in mind.

		ROB
	That all depends.

She kind of backs away and goes back to browsing.  The phone
rings and Rob picks it up.
.			ROB (CONT'D)
	Record Exchange... How many
	records... Right, well if you could
	bring them -- okay, well, where do
	you live?  Right... how about now?
	I can come right over...
		(Rob scribbles)
	Okay.

He hangs up and grabs his jacket.  Dick emerges from the back.

		ROB (CONT'D)
		(to Dick)
	Some lady's got some singles to
	sell.  I'll be back in a half-hour.

Rob walks out.

EXT./INT. FANCY LINCOLN PARK TOWNHOUSE - DAY

Rob mounts the stairs and rings the doorbell.  The door
opens, revealing a too-tan WOMAN in her late forties, in
designer jeans and a T-shirt bearing a rhinestone peace sign.
She says nothing.

		ROB
	Hi.  You called about the records?

She turns and walks into the house, leaving the door open
for him.  He follows her in and through a fabulous first
floor, packed with big-bucks bourgeois: Rugs, art, and
antiques:

She ushers Rob into a large study, and turns the light on.
He misses a breath.  The walls are lined with mahogany cases
custom-built for CDs, albums, epicurean stereo components, a
couple priceless vintage guitars -- every one of the
thousands of items bear a little numbered sticker, like a
museum.  She points to several boxes on the floor, full of
hundreds of singles.

		WOMAN
	Those.

Rob steps into the room like an Undeserving, and carefully
drops to his knees to examine the singles, each pristine in
a plastic sleeve: the original God Save the Queen by the Sex
Pistols, original Otis Reddings, Elvis Presleys, James
Browns, Jerry Lee Lewises, Beatles... on and on.  The mother
lode.  Rob is doing the best to control the onset of
hyperventilation.  He dares a glance over his shoulder to
her to see if this is a joke.

		WOMAN (CONT'D)
	What do you think?

		ROB
	It's the best collection I've ever
	seen.

		WOMAN
	Give me fifty bucks and they're all
	yours.

Rob's face goes funny.  He looks around for a hidden camera.

		ROB
	These are worth at least, I don't
	know --

		WOMAN
	I know what they're worth.  Give me
	fifty and get them out.

		ROB
	But you must have --

		WOMAN
	I must have nothing.  Their my
	husband's.

		ROB
	And you must not be getting along
	too well right now, huh?

		WOMAN
	He's in Jamaica with a twenty-
	three-year-old.  A friend of my
	daughter's.  He had the fucking
	nerve to call me and ask me to
	borrow some money and I told him to
	fuck off, so he asked me to sell
	his singles collection and send him
	a check for whatever I go, minus a
	ten percent commission.  Which
	reminds me.  Can you make sure you
	give me a five?  I want to frame it
	and put it on the wall.

		ROB
	It must have taken him a long time
	to get them together.

		WOMAN
	Years.  This collection is as close
	as he's ever come to an achievement.

Rob looks back at the records but avoids the trance.

		ROB
	Look.  Can I pay you properly?  You
	don't have to tell him what you got.
	Send him forty-five bucks and blow
	the rest.  Give it to charity.  Or
	something.

		WOMAN
	That wasn't part of the deal.  I
	want to be poisonous but fair.

		ROB
		(looking back at the records)
	Look... I... I'm sorry.  I don't
	want to be any part of this.

		WOMAN
	Suit yourself.  There are plenty of
	others who will.

		ROB
	That's why I'm trying to compromise.
	What about fifteen-hundred?  They're
	worth five times that.

		WOMAN
	Sixty.

		ROB
	Thirteen hundred.

		WOMAN
	Seventy-five.

		ROB
	Eleven-hundred.  That's my lowest
	offer.

		WOMAN
	And I won't take a penny over ninety.

They start smiling at each other.

		WOMAN (CONT'D)
	With eleven hundred he could come
	home, and that's the last thing I
	want.

		ROB
	I'm sorry but I think you better
	talk to someone else.

		WOMAN
	Fine.

Rob half stands, then drops again for one last lingering look.

		ROB
	Can I buy this Otis Redding single
	off you?

		WOMAN
	Sure.  Ten cents.

		ROB
	Oh, come on!  Let me give you ten
	dollars for this, and you can give
	the rest away for all I care.

		WOMAN
	Okay.  Because you took the trouble
	to come up here.  And because
	you've got principles.  But that's
	it.  I'm not selling them to you
	one by one.

						CUT TO:

EXT. FANCY LINCOLN PARK TOWNHOUSE - DAY

Rob comes down the stairs holding his single, and walks down
the street talking to camera.

		ROB
	How come I end up siding with the
	bad guy, the man who ran off to
	Jamaica with some nymphette?  I
	just got left for someone else, so
	why can't I bring myself to feel
	whatever it is his wife is feeling?
	All I can see is that guy's face
	when he gets that pathetic check in
	the mail for those records, and I
	can't help but feel desperately,
	painfully sorry for him.

						CUT TO:

INT. GREEN MILL - NIGHT

The bar where Al Capone used to party, and it looks about
the same: colored lightbulbs, shadowboxes, deep plush booths
and a stage for jazz.  Rob slumps back in a booth, stirring
a drink with his finger.  After a beat, we hear a DOOR SLAM
off camera, and Rob looks up with a bit of fear.
Heavy footsteps get louder and closer, until a shadow
shrouds Rob -- LIZ stands in front of him.

		LIZ
	MOTHERFUCKER.

She is enormous, and she is mad as hell.  Rob reflexively
shrinks.

		ROB
	What's the -- hey, Liz --

		LIZ
	-- No, no, no, don't even.  I
	talked to Laura, Rob.  I talked to
	her and she gave me a little
	background.  And you're a fucking
	ASSHOLE.

She turns and stomps toward the door.  Rob gets up and
follows.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob comes out of the club and follows Liz.  She hears him
and turns on him, punctuating with a finger in his chest.

		LIZ
	To think I sympathized with you for
	two seconds!  Poor Rob!  Laura left
	him out of nowhere for the schmuck
	upstairs.  You let me believe that!

		ROB
	It's true!

		LIZ
	Rob!  Two years ago you got Laura
	pregnant; you then proceeded to
	cheat on her!  You borrowed money
	from her and never paid a dime back!
	And then, just a few weeks ago, you
	told her you were unhappy with her
	and were "kind of looking around
	for somebody else!"

		ROB
	Well she --

She turns again and keeps walking, holding a defiant middle
finger over her shoulder as she fades down the street.

INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT

Rob sits, rocking slightly with the movement of the train.
He stares at an OLD COUPLE who do not speak to each other.

		ROB
	She's right, of course.  I am a
	fucking asshole.  I did and said
	those things.  But before you
	judge, although you've probably
	already done so, go off for a
	minute and write down the top five
	worst things that you have done to
	your partner, even if -- especially
	if -- your partner doesn't know
	about them.  Don't dress things up
	or try to explain them.  Just write
	them down in the plainest language
	possible...

A LONG BEAT, even five or ten seconds.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Pencils down.  Okay, so who's the
	asshole now?

						CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Saturday.  For the first time we see the place kind of busy.
Rob watches the room.  Barry is toward the back, talking to
a CUSTOMER. "Cruel to Be Kind" by Nick Lowe plays.

		BARRY
	It's almost impossible to find,
	especially on CD.  Yet another
	cruel trick on all of the dumbasses
	who got rid of their turntables.
	But every other Echo and the
	Bunnymen album --

		CUSTOMER
	I have all of the others.

		BARRY
	Oh really.  Well what about the
	first Jesus and Mary Chain?

		CUSTOMER
	They always seemed...

		BARRY
	They always seemed what?  They
	always seemed really great, is what
	they always seemed.  They picked up
	where your precious Echo left off,
	and you're sitting here complaining
	about no more Echo albums.  I can't
	believe that you don't own that
	record.  That's insane.

He plucks it from the rack, and sticks it in the Customer's
hand, who regards it with a bit a of shame.

		CUSTOMER
	Well what about the new Echo --

		BARRY
	Do not get ahead of yourself.

DICK

is listening to a female customer, but he doesn't hear her
voice.

CUSTOMER - DICK'S POV

The army bag with a red cross on it.  The ring-of-ivy tattoo
around the wrist.  The monkey boots.  The eye shadow.

DICK

thinking, calculating...

		DICK
	The interesting thing about Green
	Day is that so much of their music
	is in truth directly influenced by,
	in my opinion, two bands.

		FEMALE CUSTOMER
	The Clash.

		DICK
	Correct.  The Clash.  But also the
	Stranglers.

		FEMALE CUSTOMER
	Who?

		DICK
	I think you would love the
	Stranglers...

Dick pulls a Stranglers record and puts it on the stereo.
Her brow furrows, and then she smiles.

		FEMALE CUSTOMER
	This sounds great.

Dick smiles humbly.  Two people in the store turn and
approach.

		CUSTOMER
	Is this the new Green Day?

BARRY still talking to his Customer, who now has several
CD's in his hand.  He looks at Barry with a mixture of hate
and adoration.

		BARRY
	That is perverse.  Do not tell
	anyone you don't own fucking Blonde
	on Blonde.  What about Television?

		CUSTOMER
	I have a television.

		BARRY
	NO--!

Barry adds more records to the Customer's stack.

A FEW MINUTES LATER - ROB AND DICK

stand behind the counter.  Rob holds a CD in his hand, and
surveys the roaming customers with a semi-serious air of
authority.

		ROB
	I will now sell four copies of Cats
	and Dogs by the Royal Trux.

		DICK
	Do it.  Do it.

Rob pops the CD in and it begins to play... He stands there
with his arms folded, waiting.  After a moment, a Customer
approaches.

		CUSTOMER
		(re: music)
	What is this?

		ROB
	It's the Royal Trux.
.			CUSTOMER
	It's great.

		ROB
	I know.

ROB'S POV

of the room.  Something has caught his eye: a cropped head
with a leopard skin pattern surfaces and disappears, like
Nessie.

Rob's face gets hot and mad.  He jumps out from behind the
counter.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Dick, ring the man up...

He moves like a cat through the crowd.  Justin sees him
coming and counters around the middle island and heads for
the door.  Vince appears next to him, fiddling with his belt.
He sees Rob now, and he and Justin bolt for the door.  Rob
doubles back.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	DICK!  THE DOOR!

Dick sees Vince and Justin too late.  Rob is right behind
them and as they get out the door, he reaches... and comes
up with the back half of a skateboard.

EXT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob emerges behind them, Vince's skateboard in hand.  They
have enough distance to bolt, but they can't leave that
board behind.

		ROB
	Okay, fuckos.  How much is this
	deck worth to you, and how many
	CD's did you rip off?  Can you do
	the math?

Justin pulls two CD's out and slides them over to Rob.

		ROB (CONT'D)
		(to Vince)
	And what about you, dork?

Vince pulls about six, and puts them down in a neutral spot.
Rob picks all of them up and starts looking through them.
Dicks pokes his head out of the door.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Dick, call the police, please.

Vince and Justin look at each other.

		ROB (CONT'D)
		(looking through the CD's)
	Eno import.  Sigue Sigue Sputnik.
	Break beats.  Serge Gainsbourg.
	Ryuchi Sakamoto, Syd Barrett...
	What's going on here?  Are you guys
	stealing for other people now?

		VINCE
	Naw.  Those are for us.

		ROB
	Oh really.  You two are slamming to
	Nico now?

		JUSTIN
	You're, like, so bigoted to look at
	us and, like, think you know what
	we listen to.

		VINCE
	You got the CD's so can I have my
	board back?

		ROB
	I think you have more.

		VINCE
	Well we don't.

		ROB
	I can't frisk you but the cops can.

Justin reaches down again into his baggy shorts and comes up
with a tattered old book, "How To Make A Record."  He tosses
it over.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Jesus.  That thing's been in the
	bargain bin for six months!  Was it
	just your criminal nature or what?
	Hell, I would've given it to you
	for free.

		VINCE
	No, we...

		JUSTIN
	We don't know how it works.  Nobody
	even knows, so we wanted to check
	it out in that mag.

Rob snorts.

		JUSTIN
	Like, do you know how to actually
	make a CD?

Rob can't resist edifying them -- the curse of the
underappreciated expert.

		ROB
	Uh, yes I, like, do... It's simple.
	You make the tracks -- recording
	studio -- deliver them to the
	pressing plant where a master is
	cut, the master is then dubbed to
	submasters, which are the "mothers,"
	as their called, for each press in
	the plant.  You press the CD's or
	records, put in your cover art, and
	that's it.

		VINCE
	Records are those big round black
	things, right?

		ROB
	Fuck off.

Rob turns to go back in the store.

		VINCE
	Hey, can I have my board?

Rob drops it and enters the store.

						CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - NIGHT - QUICK CUTS:

Barry emerges from the back wth three opened bottles of beer
as the last customer goes out the door... The three lean
against the bins, tired and smiling.

		BARRY
		(to Rob)
	What?

		ROB
	What do you mean, "what?"
.			BARRY
	What are you snickering about?

		ROB
	I'm not snickering.  I'm smiling.
	Because I'm happy.

		BARRY
	What am I missing?  What do you
	have to be happy about?

		DICK
	Well we rang $900 today.

		ROB
	Yeah but more than that.  I'm happy
	because I'm proud of us.  Because
	although our talents are small and
	peculiar, we use them to their best
	advantage.

Dick and Barry look at each other.  They almost know how to
take a compliment.

EXT. RECORD STORE - NIGHT

Rob, now alone, turns the sign from "open" to "closed" shuts
the door behind him, and pulls the gate across.  Laura
appears from the next doorway.  He jumps.

		ROB
	Shit!

		LAURA
	Hi.

		ROB
	Hi.

		LAURA
	I thought I could give you a lift
	back.

		ROB
	Are you coming home?

		LAURA
	Yes.  Well, I'm coming over to your
	house to get some things.

		ROB
	My house?

Laura turns and begins walking.  Rob looks at camera.

		ROB
	First of all: The money.  The money
	is easy to explain: She had it and
	I didn't, and she wanted to give it
	to me.  If she hadn't, I would have
	gone under.  I've never paid her
	back because I've never been able
	to, and just because she's took off
	and moved in with some Supertramp
	fan doesn't make me five grand
	richer.  So that's the money --

Laura's CAR HORN is heard.  He heads off.

						CUT TO:

INT. LAURA'S CAR - NIGHT

They move down the street, and it's a little tense.  Laura
pushes a tape into the stereo.  Art Garfunkel's "Bright
Eyes" begins to play.  Rob turns away from her and makes a
face, but she knows he's making it.

		LAURA
	You can make all the faces you want.
	My car.  My car stereo.  My
	compilation tape.

Rob tries not to speak, but --

		ROB
	How can you like Art Garfunkel and
	Marvin Gaye?  It's like saying you
	support the Israelis and the
	Palestinians.

		LAURA
	It's not like saying that at all,
	actually, Rob.  Art Garfunkel and
	Marvin Gaye make pop records --

		ROB
	-- Made.  Made.  Marvin Gaye is
	dead, his father shot him in --

		LAURA
	-- whatever, and the Israelis and
	the Palestinians don't.  Art
	Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye are not
	engaged in a bitter territorial
	dispute, and the Israelis and the
	Palestinians are.  Art Garfunkel
	and Marvin Gaye --
.			ROB
	-- Alright, alright but --

		LAURA
	-- and who says I like Marvin Gaye,
	anyway?

He reels on her.

		ROB
	Hey!  Marvin Gaye! "Got to Give It
	Up!" That's our song!  Marvin Gaye
	is responsible for our entire
	relationship!

		LAURA
	Is that right?  I'd like a word
	with him.

		ROB
	But don't you remember?

		LAURA
	I remember the song.  I just
	couldn't remember who sang it.

Rob shakes his head in disbelief.

		LAURA
	I can see why you prefer Gaye to
	Garfunkel.  I get it, really.  But
	there are so many other things to
	worry about.  They're only records,
	and if one is better than the
	other, well, who cares, besides you
	and Barry and Dick?  I mean really,
	who gives a flying fuck?

Silence.

		ROB
	You used to care more about things
	like Marvin Gaye than you do now.
	When I first met you, and I made
	you that tape, you loved it.  You
	said -- and I quote -- "It was so
	good it made you ashamed of your
	record collection."

		LAURA
	Well, I liked you.  You were a
	deejay, and I thought you were hot,
	and I didn't have a boyfriend, and
	I wanted one.

		ROB
	So you weren't interested in music
	at all?

		LAURA
	Yeah, sure.  More so then than I am
	now.  That's life though, isn't it?

The car slows, and Laura parks.

		ROB
	But Laura... that's me.  That's all
	there is to me.  There isn't
	anything else.  If you've lost
	interest in that, you've lost
	interest in everything.

		LAURA
	You really believe that?

Laura turns the engine off and unbuckles her seat belt.

		ROB
	Yes.  Look at me.  Look at our --
	the apartment.  What else do I
	have, other than records and CDs?

		LAURA
	And do you like it that way?

		ROB
	Not really.

She half smiles.

		LAURA
	Let's go in.

She gets out of the car.  Rob turns to camera, speaking
quietly and urgently.

		ROB
	Okay, Number two: The stuff I told
	her about being unhappy in the
	relationship, about half looking
	around for someone else: She
	tricked me into saying it.  We were
	having this state of the union type
	conversation and she said, quite
	matter-of-factly, that we were
	pretty unhappy at the moment, and
	did I agree, and I said yes, and
	she asked whether I ever thought
	about meeting someone else.
	So I asked her if she ever thought
	about it, and she said of course,
	so I admitted that I daydream about
	it from time to time.  Now I see
	that what we were really talking
	about was her and Ian, and she
	suckered me into absolving her.  It
	was a sneaky lawyer's trick, and I
	fell for it, because she's much
	smarter than me.

He scrambles out of the car.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

The lock turns and Rob enters, holding the door for Laura
who slips by, her coat in her hands.  She glances down at
the table by the door and sees Ian's envelope.

		ROB
	You can take it with you if you want.

She slips it into her purse.  He stands facing her for a
moment, then crosses to her, takes her coat and tosses it on
a chair.  She opens the closet and takes out a big laundry
sack.

		LAURA
	Have you tackled the Great
	Reorganization yet?

		ROB
	Don't you think there are more
	important things to talk about than
	my record collection?

She begins putting books and other things into the bag...

		LAURA
	You bet.  I've been saying that for
	years.

Having no comeback, Rob goes for the moral high ground.

		ROB
	So.  Where have you been staying
	for the last week?

		LAURA
	I think you know that.

		ROB
	Had to work it out for myself,
	though, didn't I?

Laura looks suddenly tired and sad, and looks away.

		LAURA
	I'm sorry.  I haven't been very
	fair to you.  That's why I came
	here to the store this evening.  I
	feel terrible, Rob.  This is really
	hard, you know.

		ROB
	Good.
		(beat)
	So.  Is it my job?

		LAURA
	What?  Gimme a fucking break.  Is
	that what you think?  That your not
	big enough a deal for me?  Jesus,
	gimme a little credit, Rob.

		ROB
	I don't know.  It's one of the
	things I thought of.

		LAURA
	What were the others?

		ROB
	Just the obvious stuff.

		LAURA
	What's the obvious stuff?

		ROB
	I don't know.

She stands and walks toward the bathroom.

		LAURA
	I guess it's not that obvious, then.

		ROB
	No.

As soon as she shuts the door behind her, he turns to camera.

		ROB
	And number three: The Pregnancy.  I
	didn't know she was pregnant.  Of
	course I didn't.  She hadn't told
	me because I had told her I was...
	sort of... seeing somebody else.
	We thought we were being very
	grown-up, but we were being
	preposterously naive, childish
	even, to think that one of us could
	fuck around and then own up to it
	while we were living together.
	So -- I didn't find out about it
	'til way later.  We were going
	through a good period and I made a
	crack about having kids and she
	burst into tears.  I made her tell
	me what it was all about, and she
	did.  I felt guilty and so I got
	angry.  She told me that at the
	time I didn't look like a very good
	long-term bet.  That it was a hard
	decision and she didn't see any
	point in consulting me about it...
	When the whole sorry tale comes out
	in a great big --

We hear the bathroom door open.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	What?

		ROB
		(covering)
	What, what?

Laura comes out with a toiletry bag and places it by the door.

		LAURA
	Did you say something?

		ROB (CONT'D)
	No.  So.  Is it working out with Ian?

		LAURA
	Rob.  Don't be childish.

		ROB
	Why is that childish?  Your living
	with the guy!  I'm just asking how
	it's going.

		LAURA
	I am not living with him.  I've
	just been staying with him for a
	few days until I work out what I'm
	doing.  Look, this has nothing to
	do with anyone else.  You know
	that, don't you?  I left because we
	weren't exactly getting along, and
	we weren't talking about it.  And I
	suddenly realized that I like my
	job, and I like what my life is
	could be turning into, and that I'm
	getting to a point where I want to
	get my shit together and I can't
	really see that ever happening with
	you, and yeah, yeah, I sort of get
	interested in someone else, and
	that went further than it should
	have, so it seemed like a good time
	to go.  But I have no idea what
	will happen with Ian in the long
	run.  Probably nothing.

		ROB
	Well then why don't you quit it
	while you seem to not be ahead?

Laura rolls her eyes and head off into the bedroom with the
laundry bag.  Rob turns back to camera.

		ROB
	-- When the whole sorry tale comes
	out in a great big lump like that,
	even the most shortsighted jerk,
	even the most self-deluding and
	self pitying of jilted, wounded
	lovers can see that there is some
	cause and effect going on here,
	that abortions and Ian and money
	and affairs all belong to, all
	deserve each other.

Laura reappears, her bag half-filled with clothes, and goes
to the book shelves next to the records.  She starts topping
off the bag with books.

		LAURA
	Look.  Maybe you'll grow up and
	we'll get it together, you and me.
	Maybe I'll never see either of you
	again.  I don't know.  All I know
	is that it's not a good time to be
	living here.

		ROB
	So, what, you haven't definitely
	decide to dump me?  There's still a
	chance we'll get back together?

		LAURA
	I don't know.

		ROB
	Well, if you don't know, there's a
	chance, right?  It's like, if
	someone was in the hospital and he
	was seriously ill and the doctor
	said, I don't know if he's got a
	chance of survival or not, then
	that doesn't mean the patient's
	definitely going to die, now does
	it?  It means he might live.  Even
	if it's only a remote possibility.

		LAURA
	I suppose so.

		ROB
	So we have a chance of getting back
	together again.

		LAURA
	Oh, Rob, shut up.

		ROB
	Hey, I just want to know where I
	stand.  What chance --

		LAURA
	-- I don't fucking know what chance
	you fucking have!

She abandons her attempt at packing.

		ROB
	Well if you could tell me roughly
	it would help.

		LAURA
	Okay, okay, we have a nine percent
	chance of getting back together.
	Does that clarify the situation?

		ROB
	Yeah.  Great.
.			LAURA
		(shaking her head)
	I'm too tired for this now.  I know
	I'm asking a lot, but will you take
	off for a while so I can get my
	stuff packed up?  I need to be able
	to think while I do it and I can't
	think while you're here.

		ROB
	No problem.  If I can ask one
	question.

		LAURA
	Fine.  One.

		ROB
	It sounds stupid.

		LAURA
	Nevermind.

		ROB
	You won't like it.

		LAURA
	Just ask it!

		ROB
	Is it better?

		LAURA
	Is what better?  Better than what?

		ROB
	Well.  Sex, I guess.  Is sex with
	him better?

		LAURA
	Jesus Christ, Rob.  Is that really
	what's bothering you?

		ROB
	Of course it is.

		LAURA
	You really think it would make a
	difference either way?

		ROB
	I don't know.

		LAURA
	Well the answer is that I don't
	know either.  We haven't done it yet.

		ROB
	Never?

		LAURA
	I haven't felt like it.

		ROB
	But not even before, when he was
	living upstairs?

		LAURA
	No.  I was living with you, remember?
	We've slept together but we haven't
	made love.  Not yet.  But I'll tell
	you one thing.  The sleeping
	together is better.

		ROB
		(trying not to smile)
	The sleeping together is better but
	not the sex because you haven't
	done it was him yet.

		LAURA
	Will you please just go?

INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - NIGHT

Rob shuts the door behind him and does a crazy
Charleston/Cabbage-Patch/Boxstep/Touchdown dance of pure
elation, then bounces down the stairs.

						CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob bounces along, a smile wider than we have seen yet.
Maybe even jumping to touch an awning.  He lands and tells
us:

		ROB
	I feel good!  I feel great!  I feel
	like a new man.  I feel so much
	better, in fact --

INT. WEEDS BAR - NIGHT

Rob moves through the room, still grinning a bit like a
proud new father, toward the table where Barry, Dick, Marie
and T-Bone sit, listening to a story T-Bone is telling.
.Marie turns to him.

		ROB
	Hi, Marie.

		MARIE
	Everything go alright?

Rob glances at Barry, who averts his gaze.

		ROB
	She just wanted to pick up some
	stuff.  No big thing.  A relief,
	actually.

		MARIE
	God, I hate that time.  That pick
	up stuff time.  I just went through
	that before I came here.  You know
	that song "Patsy Cline Times Two" I
	play?  That's about me and my ex
	dividing up our record collections.

		ROB
	It's a great song.

		MARIE
	Thank you.

Rob glances at T-Bone, his mind calculating the new info.

		ROB
	Is that why you came to Chicago in
	the first place?  Because of, you
	know, dividing up your record
	collection and stuff?

		MARIE
	Yup.

Marie slides closer, turning her back on the others.  The
loop is closed.

		ROB
	You share a place with T-Bone?

		MARIE
	No way!  I'd cramp his style.  And
	I wouldn't want to listen to all
	that stuff happening on the other
	side of the bedroom wall.  I'm way
	to unattached for that.

		ROB
	I understand completely.

SERIES OF CUTS - ELAPSED TIME

Rob and Marie lean in to each other, everyone else out of
focus.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Awhile back, Dick and Barry and I
	agreed that what really matters is
	what you like, not what you are
	like...

ROB AND MARIE - LATER

		MARIE
	Yeah, but if you heard this band
	called the Crumblers, you'd --

		ROB
	What do you mean, the Crumblers?
	You know the Crumblers?  Nobody's
	heard the Crumblers.  Except me.

		MARIE
	Yeah, I know the Crumblers!  I
	bought a used Blasters album in New
	York about ten years ago and
	somebody left a Crumblers single in
	it.  My everything changed for a
	couple of weeks.

Rob glows --

		ROB (V.O.)
	Books, records, films -- these
	things matter.  Call me shallow but
	it's the damn truth, and by this
	measure I was having one of the
	best dates of my life.

ROB AND MARIE

		ROB
	Yeah, but you know what's his best
	film and nobody's even seen it?

		MARIE
	The Conformist.

		ROB
	Exactly!  Fucking ex-actly!

		MARIE
		(laughs)
	You haven't even seen it!

		ROB
	Nor have you!

They just laugh and laugh --

		ROB (V.O.)
	References, titles, lyrics, flew
	and met each other in mid-air
	embraces.  The evening goes with
	breathtaking precision.

INT. MARIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob and Marie are kissing standing up.

		MARIE
	Are you okay?

		ROB
		(nodding)
	Yes.  You?

		MARIE
	For now.  But I wouldn't be if I
	thought this was the end of the
	evening.

		ROB
	I'm sure it isn't.

		MARIE
	Good.  In that case, I'll fix us
	something else to drink.  You
	sticking to the whiskey or you want
	coffee?

		ROB
	Whiskey.

Marie goes into the kitchen, and they keep talking around
the corner.

MARIE

Tops off two whiskeys and starts into the other room where
she sees Rob, standing and holding his jacket.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	I'd better go.  I gotta get up
	early.  Go over to my parents'.

		MARIE
	When I said before that I hoped it
	wasn't the end of the evening, I
	was, you know... talking about
	breakfast and stuff.

She plants the whiskeys firmly on the coffee table.

		MARIE (CONT'D)
	I'd like it if you could stay the
	night.

		ROB
		(as if it is dawning
		on him)
	Oh, right.  Alright.

		MARIE
	Jesus, so much for delicacy.  I
	pegged you for a master of
	understatement, beating around the
	bush and all that buzz.

		ROB
	I use it but I don't understand it
	when other people use it.

		MARIE
	So you'll stay?

		ROB
	Yeah.

		MARIE
	Good.

Marie picks up the drinks again and exits to the bedroom.
Rob just stands there... and the LIGHTING CHANGES.

		ROB
		(to camera)
	Over nine million men in this
	country have slept with ten or more
	women.  And do they all look like
	Richard Gere?  Are they all as rich
	as Bill Gates?  Charming as Oscar
	Wilde?  Hell no.  Nothing to do
	with any of that.  Maybe fifty or
	so have one or more of these
	attributes, but that still
	leaves...well, about nine million,
	give or take fifty.  And they're
	just men.  Regular guys.
	We're just guys, because I, even I,
	am a member of this exclusive, nine
	million member club.  In fact,
	Marie is my seventeenth lover. "How
	does he do it?" you ask. "He wears
	bad sweaters, he's grumpy, he's
	broke, he hangs out with the
	Musical Moron Twins, and he gets to
	go to bed with a recording artist
	who looks like Susan Dey-slash-Meg
	Ryan.  What's going on?  Listen up,
	because I think I can explain, with
	all modesty aside: I ask questions.
	That's it.  That's my secret.  It
	works precisely because that isn't
	how you're supposed to do it, if
	you listen to the collective male
	wisdom.  There are still enough
	old-style, big-mouthed, egomaniacs
	running around to make someone like
	me appear to be refreshingly
	different.  If you can't hack this
	simple strategy, there are some
	women out there, of course, who
	want to get pushed around, ignored
	and mowed over, but do you really
	want to be with them anyway?

... he goes through a door into the bedroom.  Marie is
taking off her earrings.

		ROB
	Would you like me to turn the
	lights out?  Or would you like them
	on?

		MARIE
	God, you ask a lot of questions.

INT. MARIE'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Rob stares at the ceiling as Marie sleeps on next to him.

		ROB (V.O.)
	But in the morning we were just two
	people, slightly hung-over, who
	were not in love, sharing the same
	space.  And I feel...

Rob looks to the camera.

		ROB
	Sex is about the only grown-up
	thing that I know how to do; It's
	weird, then, that it's the only
	thing that can make me feel like a
	ten-year-old.

						CUT BACK TO:

EXT. MARIE'S APARTMENT - MORNING

The two of them come out of the building and into the street.

		ROB
	Which way are you going?

		MARIE
		(points left)
	That way.  You?

		ROB
		(points right)
	That way.

		MARIE
	And so it is.  I'll talk to you
	later.

		ROB
	I'll call you.

		MARIE
		(smiles)
	Right.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Empty.  Dick prices records out on the floor.  Rob leans
against the register.  Barry sits on a stool next to him.
They're top-fiving it.  Rob's heart isn't in it.

		ROB
	Okay.  Top five side one track ones.
	Number one... "Janie Jones," the
	Clash, from The Clash.

		BARRY
	Ehh.

		ROB
	"Thunder Road," Bruce Springsteen,
	from Born to Run. "Smells Like Teen
	Spirit," Nirvana, Nevermind.

		BARRY
	Oh no, Rob, that's not obvious
	enough.  Not at all.  Dick, did you
	hear that?

		ROB
	Shut up. "Let's Get It On," Marvin
	Gaye, from Let's Get It On.
	"Airbag," Radiohead, from OK
	Computer.

		BARRY
		(sarcastic)
	Ooh!  A kind of recent record!
	Rob's sly declaration of new
	classic-status slipped into a list
	of old classics!  Nice! "Let's Get
	It On?" Couldn't you make it more
	obvious than that?

		DICK
	Rob.  Phone.
		(whispers)
	It's Laura.

Rob springs to his feet, takes the phone and walks to the
end of the cord.  Deep breath.

		ROB
	Hi.

LAURA - INTERCUT

		LAURA
	Hi.  I've been looking for an
	envelope of my receipts from last
	month and I'm thinking I didn't
	take them with me.  Have you seen
	them around?

		ROB
	I'll look for 'em.  How you doing?

		LAURA
	I'm sorry to call, but I need that
	stuff...

		ROB
	Fine, I'm sure it's in the file at
	home.  I'll call you when I find
	it, and then we'll talk.

		LAURA
	We'll talk some other time.
.			ROB
	Great... That's great.

Rob comes back to the counter and hangs up the phone.

		BARRY
	Rob!  What about the Beatles?  What
	about the fucking Rolling Stones?
	What about fucking... fucking...
	Beethoven?  Track one side one of
	the Fifth Symphony?  You shouldn't
	be allowed to run a record shop.
	You shouldn't be allowed to --

SFX: BARRY'S VOICE FADES OUT.  Rob's mouth slacks and he
stares off.

		ROB (V.O.)
	There's something different about
	the sound of her voice... And what
	did she mean last night, she hasn't
	slept with him yet.  Yet.  What
	does "yet" mean, anyway? "I haven't
	seen... Evil Dead II yet." What
	does that mean?  It means you're
	going to go, doesn't it?

SFX: BACK TO THE ROOM.

		BARRY
	-- You're like a little squirrel of
	music, storing away dead little
	nuts of old garbage music, musical
	lint, old shit, shit, shit --

		ROB
	-- Barry, if I were to say to you I
	haven't seen Evil Dead II yet, what
	would that mean?

Barry just looks at Rob.  He pulls out a Game Boy and begins
playing.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Just... come on, what would it mean
	to you?  That sentence? "I haven't
	seen Evil Dead II yet?"

		BARRY
	To me, it would mean that you're a
	liar.  You saw it twice.  Once with
	Laura -- oops -- once with me and
	Dick.  We had that conversation
	about the possibilities of the guy
	making ammo off-screen in the
	Fourteenth Century.

		ROB
	Yeah, yeah, I know.  But say I
	hadn't seen it and I said to you,
	"I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet,"
	what would you think?

Barry shuts off the Game Boy.

		BARRY
	I'd think you were a cinematic
	idiot.  And I'd feel sorry for you.

		ROB
	No, but would you think, from that
	one sentence.  That I was going to
	see it?

		BARRY
	I'm sorry, Rob, but I'm struggling
	here.  I don't understand any part
	of this conversation.  You're
	asking me what I would think if you
	told me that you hadn't seen a film
	that you've seen.  What am I
	supposed to say?

		ROB
	Just listen to me.  If I said to
	you --

		BARRY
	"-- I haven't seen Evil Dead II
	yet," yeah, yeah, I hear you --

		ROB
	Would you... would you get the
	impression that I wanted to see it?

		BARRY
	Well... you couldn't have been
	desperate to see it, otherwise
	you'd have already gone...

Rob brightens.  Barry finally considers.

		BARRY
	...But the word "yet..." Yeah, you
	know what, I'd get the impression
	that you wanted to see it.
	Otherwise you'd say you didn't
	really want to.

		ROB
	But in your opinion, would I
	definitely go?

		BARRY
	How the fuck am I supposed to know
	that?  You might get sick of people
	telling you you've really gotta go
	see the movie.

Rob darkens.

		ROB
	Why would they care?

		BARRY
	Because it's a brilliant film.
	It's funny, violent, and the
	soundtrack kicks fucking ass.

They look at each other for a strange moment.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	I never thought I would say this,
	but can I go work now?

		ROB
	Let's pack it up.  We haven't had a
	customer in four hours.

Barry stands.

		BARRY
	Fine by me.  I still want pay to 7
	o'clock.

		ROB
	Ha.

		DICK
	I can't go to the club tonight, guys.

		BARRY
	Why?

Dick smiles sheepishly.

		BARRY
	Who are you going to see?

		DICK
	Nobody.

Barry's eyes widen.

		BARRY
	Rob, looky looky.  Dick!  Are you
	getting some?!

Silence.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	Un-fucking-believable.  Dick's out
	on a hot date, Rob's boning Marie
	LaSalle, and the best-looking and
	most intelligent of all of us isn't
	getting anything at all.

		ROB
	How do you know about that?

		BARRY
	Oh come on, Rob.  What am I, an
	idiot?  I'm more bothered by Dick's
	thing.  How did this happen, Dick?
	What rational explanation can there
	possibly be?  What's her name?

Barry is going a little hard.  Dick shrinks back.

		DICK
	Anna.

		BARRY
	Anna who?  Anna Green Gables?  Anna
	Conda?

		DICK
	Anna Moss.

		BARRY
	Anna Moss.  Mossy.  The Mossy Thing.
	The Swamp Thing.  Is she all green
	and furry?

		ROB
	Shut the fuck up, Barry.

		BARRY
	Yeah, you would say that, wouldn't
	you?  You two have to stick together
	now.  Boners United.  United in
	getting some.

Barry picks up his bag and heads for the door.

		ROB
	Don't be sad, Barry.  You'll find
	true love someday.

		BARRY
	Suck my ass.

		ROB
	Terrific.

Rob looks to Dick, who looks guilty.

		ROB
	Don't worry about it, Dick.  Barry's
	an asshole.

		DICK
	Yeah... Well... I'll see you
	tomorrow, Rob.

Dick exits.  Rob watches the door close behind him, and
looks out over the empty store.  He TALKS TO CAMERA as he
goes to the light switches and begins shutting them off, one
by one...

		ROB
	Why does it bother Barry that much
	that Dick is seeing someone?  He's
	worried about how his life is
	turning out, and he's lonely, and
	lonely people are the bitterest of
	them all.

...until all the lights are out.  Rob's silhouette slips out
the door.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

A downpour is on.  Rob has himself wedged into a phone
booth, the little kind.

		ROB
		(into phone)
	Hi.  It's me... I'm right outside...
	I know... I know... I figured I
	could just walk you to the train
	and you could go... home.  Or
	whatever it is... No!  Of course
	not -- okay.  I'll be right here.

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING

Rob stands under the overhang, watching Laura walk the long
hallway from the elevators to the door.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Laura looks different.  Less
	stress-out, more in control.
	Something has happened, maybe
	something real, or maybe something
	in her head.  Whatever it is, you
	can see that she thinks she's
	started out on some new stage in
	her life.  She hasn't.  I'm not
	going to let her.

She emerges from doors, says something to him and they start
walking, sharing her umbrella.

INT. OLDE TOWNE ALE HOUSE - NIGHT

Rob and Laura have just sat down in a booth.

		LAURA
	So, how are you?

		ROB
	Have you slept with him yet?

		LAURA
	I told you I slept with him.

		ROB
	No, not -- I mean have you, you
	know --

		LAURA
	Is that why you wanted to see me?

		ROB
	I guess.

		LAURA
	Oh, Rob.  What do you want me to say?

		ROB
	I want you to say that you haven't,
	and I want it to be the truth.

She looks past him.

		LAURA
	I can't do that.

She starts to say something else but Rob is up and out.
.EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob pushes through the rush hour raincoats, seeming to be
the only one going his way.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is soaking, slumped in his chair, his headphones on and
the stereo lit up behind him.  He talks a little loud, due
to the headphones.

		ROB
	Tonight we're gonna figure out the
	five best angry songs about women.
	Let's go...

He holds up a stack of records and CDs.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	You kind of have to start with
	Elvis Costello, but where? "Motel
	Matches?" "I Want You?" "I Hope
	You're Happy Now?" "Green Shirt?"
	His records should be sealed in
	cases that say "in case of vicious
	betrayal, smash glass." "Where Did
	You Sleep Last Night," sure, but by
	Robert Johnson or by Nirvana?
	Maybe a Liz Phair track.  There are
	a couple to get angry at instead of
	being angry with.  Some devil's
	advocate stuff.  The Silver Jews
	could be good when you're ready to
	start putting it all behind you...
	But I think we're getting ahead of
	ourselves there.  Ah.  Dylan.  Bob
	fucking Dylan.  Now Bob Dylan
	would --

The phone rings.  He pulls off his headphones and picks it
up but says nothing.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	You must have known it would happen.
	You couldn't have been entirely
	unprepared.  Like you said, I've
	been living with the guy.  We were
	bound to get around to it sometime.

She laughs a bit nervously.

		LAURA (O.S.)(CONT'D)
		(machine)
	And anyway, I keep trying to tell
	you, that's not really the point,
	is it?  The point is we got
	ourselves into an awful mess, Rob...
	Are you there?  What are you
	thinking?

		ROB
		(barely a whisper)
	Nothing.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	We can meet for another drink if
	you want.  So I can explain it
	better.  I owe you that much.

		ROB
	Look, I gotta go.  I work too, you
	know.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	Will you call me?

		ROB
	I don't have your number.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	Call me at work.  We can arrange to
	meet properly.  I don't want this
	to be the last conversation we have.
	I know what you're like.

		ROB
	You do, huh.

He hangs up and stares at the wall for awhile.  He gets a
beer from the fridge and sits back down.  He picks up the
phone and dials.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Yes, a residence, a Mr. Ian Raymond,
	North Side... thank you.

He writes down a number and hangs up, then looks to camera.

		ROB
	You know the worst thing about
	being rejected?  The complete lack
	of control due to loss of control.

He picks up the phone and dials, while continuing to talk to
us --

		ROB
	If I could only control the when
	and how of being dumped by somebody
	then it wouldn't seem as bad.  But
	then, of course --

He hangs up quickly --

		ROB
	-- it wouldn't be rejection, would
	it?  It would be mutual consent.
	It would be musical differences.  I
	would be pursuing a solo career.

						CUT TO:

EXT. IAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob is tucked into a phone booth across the street.  He can
see the silhouettes of Laura and Ian in the window.  He
picks up the phone, drops a quarter, and hits the numbers
hard as he dials... a muffled male "hello?" is heard and Rob
hangs up.  He does it again.  And again.  And again.  Until --

INT. IAN'S APARTMENT - INTERCUT

Still an unpacked box or two, but it's set up: a framed
"Woodstock - The Movie" poster, stacks of new fiction, a
bread maker -- you get the idea.  Ian is shorter than Laura,
scruffier than Rob, and looks not unlike Leo Sayer/Steve
Guttenberg.  He stares at Laura with amused exasperation.
She picks up the phone --

		LAURA
	Hello.

		ROB
	It's me.

		LAURA
	I figured it was.
		(re: traffic noise)
	Where are you?

		ROB
	I think the big question here is
	where are you, if you don't mind my
	saying so, and I think I know where
	you are.  You're running.  On the run.
	You're running from a point that
	everyone hits in any relationship,
	and you're just going to hit it
	again with Ian but it's going to be
	with a World Music bunny-rabbit-
	looking earth-shoe-wearing "Doctor-
	Who"-watching twit who doesn't
	really understand you, not the way
	that I do and will more in the
	future, and you'll have just wasted
	more time and arrive in the exact
	same place that you're in now, only
	later.  And with... him.

		LAURA
	I'm not -- hold on...

She walks into another room, shutting the door behind her.
On a bookshelf is a picture of a younger Ian in a tunic,
emoting on some college stage.  She turns it face down.

		LAURA
	I'm not in love with Ian, okay?

She wanders over to the window, looking out absently.  She
sees Rob down there at the phone booth.

		ROB
	Are you still in love with me?

		LAURA
	Jesus.  I do not know.  I'll talk
	to you later.

		ROB
	Think about what I said.  I mean,
	if you want to experiment, or
	whatever --

		LAURA
		(indignant)
	I'm not experimenting.  Why don't
	you go experiment.

		ROB
	I don't want to.  Don't need to.  I
	love you.

		LAURA
	You don't ever think about other
	people?

		ROB
	No... not really... I mean, I think
	about it... but no, I don't really
	think about it.

		IAN (O.S.)
		(through the door)
	Laura?  Are you okay?

		LAURA
		(covering the
		mouthpiece, to Ian)
	I am fine...
		(to Rob)
	I gotta go.  Goodbye.

She clicks the phone off.  The door cracks and Ian sticks
his head in.

		IAN
	Are you sure you're okay?

She moves past him back into the apartment.

		LAURA
	Yeah, I'm fine.  I'm off the phone.

		IAN
	You look upset.

		LAURA
	I'm upset, but I'm fine.

		IAN
	Maybe I should talk to him.

		LAURA
	Mmmm, no.  Not a good idea.

		IAN
	Conflict resolution is my job, Laura.

		LAURA
	Nothing to resolve, Ian.  Let's get
	a drink.

She grabs her coat and opens the door.  The phone begins to
ring.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
		(waving toward the door)
	C'mon, c'mon.

EXT. IAN'S APARTMENT

Rob stands on the sidewalk in the rain, Ian's building
behind him and down a few doors.

		ROB
	I wish I could be one of those guys
	who doesn't call, the kind of guy
	that gets broken up with and
	appears not to give a shit.  He
	doesn't make an ass out of himself,
	or frighten anybody, and this week
	I've done both of those things.
	One day Laura's sorry and guilty,
	and the next she's scared and
	angry, and I'm entirely responsible
	for the transformation, and it
	doesn't do my case any good at all.
	I'd stop if I could but I --

His head turns at the sharp SOUND of a door opening -- Ian
and Laura are coming out of the building.  He jumps behind a
tree, peering around it as they fade down the street.

INT. GREEN MILL - NIGHT

Rob sits alone, nursing a scotch.  Rob looks up into the
mirror behind the bar and sees an older woman, MRS. ASHWORTH,
sitting alone a few stools down.

		ROB
	Do I know you?

		ALISON'S MOM
	I don't know.

Rob remembers, and his gaze has a new found seriousness.

		ROB
	You're Mrs. Ashworth.  I'm Rob.  An
	old boyfriend of you're daughter's.

Alison's Mom's brow furrows and her face darkens.

		ROB
	Alison's.

		ALISON'S MOM
	Really.

		ROB
	Long time ago.  I was just thinking
	about her.  I was her first
	boyfriend.
.			ALISON'S MOM
	What did you say your name was?

		ROB
	Rob.  Rob Gordon.  Circa junior
	high...

		ALISON'S MOM
	I hate to quibble with you Rob, but
	she married her first boyfriend.
	Kevin Bannister.

		ROB
	You gotta be kidding me.

		ALISON'S MOM
	That's right.  Kevin.  She's Kevin
	Bannister.  She lives in Australia.

She doesn't seem to happy that Alison lives in Australia.
Rob is thrilled.

		ROB
	Really?  Married Kevin?  Her junior
	high sweetheart... What chance
	would I have had against that?
	None, no chance.  That's just fate.

		ALISON'S MOM
	I beg your pardon?

		ROB
	Technically, I'm number one.  I
	went out with her a week before
	Kevin did.  Her first boyfriend.  Me.

She stands.

		ALISON'S MOM
	Well Rob, I'll tell her you said
	hello.  If she remembers you.

Alison's Mom strolls out.

		ROB
		(calling after her)
	I think she will.  But it's okay if
	she doesn't.  I'm fine now.

Rob turns to the bartender, smiling giddily.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Rob walks through Uptown toward the train.

		ROB
	And suddenly I am fine.  For the
	moment there is not one extra pound
	on my chest.  This is fate.  Alison
	married Kevin.  You get it?  That's
	fate.  That's got nothing to do
	with me, that is beyond my control,
	beyond my fault...

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob into camera, digging through a box, fishing through
pictures and letters, concert tickets and other mementos.
He begins to assemble a small pile of pictures of women.

		ROB
	I want to see the others on the Big
	Top Five.  Penny, who wouldn't let
	me touch her and then went and had
	sex with that bastard Chris Thompson.
	Sarah, my partner in rejection who
	rejected me, and Charlie, who I
	have to thank for everything: my
	great job, my sexual self-
	confidence, the works.  There's
	this Springsteen song, "Bobby
	Jean," off Born in the USA.  About
	a girl who's left town years before
	and he's pissed off because he
	didn't know about it, and he wanted
	to say goodbye, tell her that he
	missed her, and wish her good luck.
	Well, I'd like my life to be like a
	Springsteen song.  Just once.  I
	know I'm not born to run, and it's
	clear that Halsted Street is
	nothing like Thunder Road, but
	feelings can't be that different,
	can they?  I'd like to call up all
	those people and ask them how they
	are and whether they've forgiven
	me, and tell them that I have
	forgiven them.  And say good luck,
	goodbye.  No hard feelings.  And
	then they'd feel good and I'd feel
	good.  We'd all feel good.  I'd
	feel clean, and calm, and ready to
	start again.  That'd be good.
	Great even.

						CUT BACK TO:

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob holds an old crumpled address book in one hand and the
phone in the other.

		ROB
	Penny Hardwick?  This is Rob
	Gordon... From High school... Yeah.

EXT. MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT

Rob and Penny walk out of the theater mid-conversation.
They look happy as they walk down the street.

		ROB (V.O.)
	Penny is as beautiful as she was in
	high school when I broke it off
	with her because she wouldn't sleep
	with me.  In fact she's even more
	beautiful, and really grown into
	herself.

INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

A mid-scale trattoria.  Rob and Penny sit at table laughing
and talking.  If we didn't know better we might think there
is chemistry.

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	She tells me about her life, and I
	get it.  And I tell about mine, and
	she's interested.

CLOSE-UP -- ROB TALKING

		ROB (V.O.)(CONT'D)
	And then, with no real explanation,
	I just launch into it: I tell her
	about Laura and Ian, and Charlie
	and Marco, and about Alison Ashworth
	and Kevin Bannister...

		ROB
	...and you wanted to sleep with
	Chris Thompson instead of me, and...
	and I thought you could help me
	understand why it keeps happening,
	why I'm doomed to be left, doomed
	to be rejected and...

He slows to a stop.  We see Penny as she goes from happy to
livid.

		PENNY
	Rob.  I was crazy about you.  I
	wanted to sleep with you, one day,
	but not when I was sixteen.  When
	you broke up with me -- when you
	broke up with me -- because I was,
	to use your charming expression,
	tight, I cried and cried and I
	hated you.  And then that little
	shitbag asked me out, and I was too
	tired to fight him off, and it
	wasn't rape because I said okay,
	but it wasn't far off.  And I
	didn't have sex with anyone else
	until after college because I hated
	it so much.  And now you want to
	have a chat about rejection?  Well,
	fuck you, Rob.

Penny stands and leaves.  Rob just sits.

		ROB
		(cheerful)
	So that's another one I don't have
	to worry about.  I should have done
	this years ago.

Rob indicates to an off-screen waiter.

		ROB
	Check...

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	Sarah's easy to find.  She still
	sends me Christmas cards with her
	address and phone number on them.
	They never say anything else,
	except for "Merry Christmas, Love
	Sarah." I send her equally blank
	ones back.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY - NIGHT - ROB'S POV

of a door opening, revealing Sarah, a few years older but
still pretty in her mousey way.  She looks at Rob with a bit
too much in her eyes.

INT. CARMEN'S PIZZA - NIGHT

Rob and Sarah face each other over a half-eaten pizza.

		SARAH
	I can't believe I left you for
	him... Crazy.

Sarah looks down at her plate, shaking her head, blushing.
Rob looks uncomfortable.  This is more than he was looking
for.

		ROB
	Well... probably seemed like a good
	idea at the time.

She looks up again...

		SARAH
	Probably.  I can't remember why,
	though.

...and back down again.

		ROB (V.O.)
	I haven't got the heart for the
	rejection conversation.  There are
	no hard feelings here, and I am
	glad that she ditched me, and not
	the other way around.

INT./EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY - NIGHT

Sarah, in the doorway, smiles painfully.  It's clear she
doesn't want to shut the door, but she does.  Rob turns and
walks down the hall toward the door to the street as he
talks TO CAMERA.

		ROB
	I could've ended up having sex back
	there.  And what better way to
	exorcize rejection demons than to
	screw the person who rejected you,
	right?  But you wouldn't be sleeping
	with a person.  You'd be sleeping
	with a whole sad single-person
	culture.  It'd be like sleeping
	with Talia Shire in "Rocky" if you
	weren't Rocky.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP: PHONE BOOK

as Rob's finger moves down the column, then stops.

Rob looks up with a little shock, almost recoiling from the
phone book.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	Charlie's in the fucking phone book.
	She has come to assume such an
	importance, I feel she should be
	living on Mars.  She's an
	extraterrestrial, a ghost, a myth,
	not a person with an answering
	machine, in the phone book... I
	call and hang up on her voice mail
	a couple of times, then I leave my
	name and number and throw in a
	"long time-no-see..." I don't hear
	anything back from her for a few
	days.  Now that's more like it, if
	you're talking about rejection:
	someone who won't even return your
	phone messages a decade after she
	rejected you.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob hears the door open as he stocks shelves, and turns.
It's Ian.  Rob reacts, gunfighter eyes.

		ROB
	Can I help you?

		IAN
	Hello, Rob.  Remember me?  I'm Ray.
	Ian.

Rob says nothing.

		IAN
	I thought maybe we should talk.
	Sort a few things out?

Rob is disoriented on the way to angry.  Dick and Barry's
ears perk up.

		ROB
	What needs sorting out?

		IAN
	Come on, Rob.  My relationship with
	Laura has obviously disturbed you a
	great deal.

		ROB
	Funnily enough I haven't been too
	thrilled about it.

		IAN
	We are not talking jokey
	understatement here, Rob.  We're
	talking actionable harassment.  Ten
	phone calls a night, hanging around
	outside my house...

		ROB
	Yeah, well, I've stopped all that
	now.

		IAN
	We've noticed and we're glad.  But,
	you know... how are we going to
	make peace here?  We want to make
	things easier for you.  What can we
	do?  Obviously I know how special
	Laura is, and I know things can't
	be good for you at the moment.  I'd
	hate it if I lost her.  But I'd
	like to think that if she decided
	she didn't want to see me anymore,
	I'd respect that decision.  Do you
	see what I'm saying?

		ROB
	Yeah.

		IAN
	Good.  So shall we leave it at that
	then?

		ROB
	I dunno.

		IAN
	Think about it, Rob.

CUT TO FANTASY #1:

Rob looking sure of himself, righteous.

		IAN (CONT'D)
	Good.  So shall we leave it at that
	then?

		ROB
	I've already left it, you pathetic
	rebound fuck!  Now get your
	patchouli stink out of my store.

Ian leaves, rattled.

CUT TO FANTASY #2

Same thing.

		IAN
	Good.  So shall we leave it at that
	then?

		ROB
	We won't leave it, Ian.  Not ever.

Rob springs toward Ian, but Barry blocks his way.  Dick
helps hold Rob back.

		DICK
	Don't do it, Rob!

		BARRY
	He's not worth it!

Rob reaches a pointed finger over Barry's shoulder.

		ROB
	Leave town.  Leave the country, you
	little bitch, because you're gonna
	look back on walks by the house and
	ten phone calls a night as a golden
	age.  Get ready, mutherfucker.

Ian trips backward and scurries out the door.

CUT TO FANTASY #3

Rob, Dick, and Barry just beating the living shit out of
Ian, Rodney King style.  Ian lies on the floor trying to
cover himself.  Dick, already out of breath, breaks from the
pack and jerks the air conditioner from the wall and hefts
it over his head, preparing for the death blow.

CUT BACK TO REALITY

		IAN
	So shall we leave it at that then?

		ROB
	I dunno.

		IAN
	Think about it, Rob.

Ian walks out.  Rob looks spent.  He shuffles toward the
back of the store.

INT. RECORD STORE - BACK ROOM - DAY

Rob is laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.  Dick
sticks his head in the door.

		DICK
	Phone, Rob.  Somebody named Charlie.

Rob pulls the phone into the bathroom and shuts the door.

BATHROOM

Rob curls up with the phone.

		ROB
	Hello?

INT. CHARLIE'S HOUSE - INTERCUT

Charlie looks even better than when we saw her in college.

		CHARLIE
	Rob, hi, so sorry I missed your
	call.  In LA on business.  You know
	how it gets.

		ROB
	Yeah, sure...

		CHARLIE
	Good.  Great.  Yeah... Wow.  Rob
	Gordon.  Seems like a 100 million
	years ago now.

		ROB
	Yeah.  A billion.  Right... How are
	you?

		CHARLIE
	Fantastic but I'm a little busy
	right now.  Listen.  Do you want to
	come to dinner Saturday?  I'm
	having some friends over and I need
	a spare man.  Are you a spare man?

		ROB
	Uh...yes, at the moment.

		CHARLIE
	Great.  Gotta go.  See you then.

INT. CHARLIE'S DINING ROOM - SERIES OF SHOTS OVER THE COURSE
OF DINNER

A sexy version of a hip wine commercial: a small mid-
thirties crowd of successful, beautiful people.  Rob sits at
the table silently as the other guests talk and eat.  Rob's
central activities are working his way through maybe a few
too many wines making sure his cigarette smoke doesn't get
in anyone's face.  His eyes occasionally dart around the
table, but he says nothing to anyone.

						CUT TO:

INT. CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

Rob is a little too settled into the couch, somewhat bleary.
Everyone gone but the two of them, Charlie plops down into a
chair across from Rob.

		ROB
	Hey Charlie.

		CHARLIE
	Hey Rob.

		ROB
	Why did you break up with me for
	Marco?

		CHARLIE
		(on her feet)
	Fuck!  I knew it!  You're going
	through one of those what-does-it-
	all-mean things.

		ROB
	Huh?

		CHARLIE
	There's been a rash of them,
	recently.  I find it a little
	unnerving.  In fact Marco called a
	few months back, and he wanted to
	see me, and rehash the past as they
	say, and I wasn't really up for it.
	Do all men go through this?

		ROB (CONT'D)
	C'mon, just answer the question.
	You can say what you like.  What
	the hell?

Charlie looks off at a corner of the ceiling, musters a look
of "contemplation."

		CHARLIE
	It's all kind of lost in the... in
	the dense mists of time now... It
	wasn't that I really liked Marco
	more.  In fact I thought you were
	more, shall we say, attractive than
	him.  It was just that he knew he
	was good-looking and you didn't,
	and that made a difference somehow.
	You used to act as if I was weird
	for wanting to spend time with you,
	and that got kind of beat, if you
	know what I mean.  Your self-image
	started to rub off on me and I
	ended up thinking that I was
	strange.  And I knew that you were
	kind and thoughtful... you made me
	laugh, and I dug the way you got
	consumed by things you loved... and
	Marco seemed a bit more, I don't
	know, glamorous?  More sure of
	himself?
		(pause)
	Less hard work, because I felt like
	I was dragging you around, sort of.
		(pause)
	A little sunnier.  Sparkier.
		(pause)
	I don't know.  You know what people
	are like at that age.  They make
	very superficial judgements.  Do
	you think that's superficial?  He
	was a clown, if it's any consolation.

		ROB
	Did you tell that to Marco when he
	did his what-does-it-all-mean thing
	with you?

		CHARLIE
	Oh God, no.  I didn't want to hurt
	his feelings.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	I wanted the works and I got it.
	None of Alison Ashworth's fate,
	none of Sarah's rewriting of
	history, and no reminder that I'd
	got all the rejection stuff a
	little backward, like I did about
	Penny.  Just a perfectly clear
	explanation of why some people have
	it and some don't.  All I've
	learned from Charlie is that maybe
	my one talent, my genius for being
	normal, is a little overrated.

						CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob enters the already open store, in a bad mood, to find
Barry putting up a poster.  It reads:

"BARRYTOWN/appearing Saturday night/Bucktown Pub"

		BARRY
	Hey.

		ROB
	What the fuck is that?

		BARRY
	My band.

		ROB
	What band?

		BARRY
	The band that found me and asked me
	to join.

		ROB
	You are not in a band, Barry.  You
	are not a musician.  And no posters.

		BARRY
	Thanks for your support, Rob.
	Really appreciate it.

		ROB
	Barrytown.  Barrytown?  Is there no
	end to your arrogance?

		BARRY
	I didn't make up the name.  It's
	the Steely Dan song.  And it was in
	The Commitments.

		ROB
	You can't be called Barry and sing
	in a group called Barrytown.

		BARRY
	They were fucking called that
	before I was in it, okay?  It
	wasn't my idea.

		ROB
	That's why you got the gig, isn't it?

Barry says nothing.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Isn't it?

		BARRY
	That was one of the reasons they
	asked me to join originally, yes.
	But --

		ROB
	Great!  That's fucking great!  They
	only asked you to sing because of
	your name!  You can stick it above
	the browser racks over there.

		BARRY
	How many tickets can I put you down
	for?

		ROB
	None.  Christ!

		BARRY
	You're not even coming?

		ROB
	Of course I'm not coming.  Do I
	look like I'd want to listen to
	some terrible experimental racket
	played in some hideous cave?  Where
	is it?
		(looks at the poster)
	The fucking Bucktown Pub?  Ha!
.			BARRY
	So much for friends, then.  You're
	a bitter bastard, Rob, you know that?

		ROB
	Bitter?  Because I'm not in
	Barrytown?  You should be shot like
	a lame horse, you jerk.
		(re: the poster)
	Just keep that out of my window.

INT. ROB'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob opens the door to find Laura filling a duffel bag in the
living room.

		LAURA
	I called and called but you were
	out.  I thought I'd be gone before
	you got back.

		ROB
	Is that the last of it?

		LAURA
	Yep.  I might have missed some
	stuff.  I'm so used to some things
	being here that I don't even notice
	them.

		ROB
	Those look heavy.  Where's Ian?

		LAURA
	He's at home.  Listen, I can't
	believe he went to the store.  I'm
	mortified, actually.  I'm really
	sorry.  He had no right to do that,
	and I told him so.

		ROB
	It was kind of funny.

They smile.

		LAURA
	I'm sure.

		ROB
	You still together?  Going all right?

		LAURA
	I don't really want to talk about
	it, to be honest.

		ROB
	That bad, eh?

		LAURA
	You know what I mean.

Rob flops onto the couch and surveys the room.

		ROB
	It's a dump, isn't it?

Laura sits down, on the other side of the couch.

		LAURA
	Fix it up.  It'll make you feel
	better.

		ROB
	I'll bet you can't remember what
	you were doing here, can you?  I
	mean, how much are you making now?
	Sixty?  Seventy?  And you were
	living in this shitty place.

		LAURA
	You know I didn't mind.  And it's
	not as if Ray's place is any better.

		ROB
	I'm sorry, but can we get this
	straight?  What is his fucking
	name, Ian or Ray?  What do you call
	him?

		LAURA
	Ray.  I hate Ian.

		ROB
	I hate him too.  So I just call him
	"Mavis." Or "Sissyboy." Or "Mavis
	the Sissyboy."

Laura starts laughing, laying on the couch on her back, very
close to Rob.  Rob leans in, sort of looking down into her
eyes.

		ROB
	This is where you're supposed to
	say that you haven't laughed this
	much in ages, and then you see the
	error of your ways.

		LAURA
	You make me laugh much more than
	Ray does, if that's what you're
	getting at.  But I already knew you
	could make me laugh.  It's
	everything else I don't know about.

		ROB
	You know I'm a good person.

		LAURA
	Mmm hmm.

		ROB
	You know that I can cook my ass off
	when I feel like it.

		LAURA
	Oh ho, so very infrequently.

He moves a little closer.

		ROB
	You know my favorite beverage is
	your bath water.

She laughs.  He moves in, not really trying to kiss her but
leaving the door open for her... She almost goes for it, but
instead gets to her feet.

		LAURA
	Time to go.

She goes to her bags.  Rob points to a pile of CDs.

		ROB
	Don't forget your CDs.

		LAURA
	Those aren't mine.

		ROB
	Sure they are.

		LAURA
	They're not really, though, are
	they?  I know you bought them for
	me, and that was really sweet of
	you, but that was when you were
	trying to turn me into you.  I
	can't take them, I know they'd just
	sit around staring at me, and I'd
	feel embarrassed by them and...
	they don't fit in with the rest of
	what's mine, do you understand?
	That Sting record you bought for
	me... that was a present for me.  I
	like Sting and you hate him.  But
	the rest of this stuff...
		(bending down to the pile)
	Who the hell is Nick Lowe?  Or Gram
	Parsons?  Or the Boredoms?  I don't
	know these people.  I...

		ROB
	Okay, okay.  I get the picture.

		LAURA
	I'm sorry to go on about it.  But,
	I don't know, there's a lesson here
	somewhere, and I want to make sure
	you get it.

		ROB
	I got it.  You like Sting but you
	don't like Gram Parsons, because
	you've never heard of him.

		LAURA
	You're being deliberately obtuse.

		ROB
	I guess I am.

		LAURA
	Well, think about it.

She hefts the duffel bag, opens the door and exits.

		ROB
	Fuck.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to the camera.

		ROB
	What's the point in thinking about
	it?  If I ever have another
	relationship, I'll buy her, whoever
	she is, stuff that she oughta like
	but doesn't know about -- that's
	what new boyfriends are for.
	And hopefully I won't borrow money
	from her, or have an affair, and
	she won't need to have an abortion
	or run away with the neighborhood,
	and then there won't be anything to
	think about.  Laura didn't run off
	with Ian because I bought her CDs
	she wasn't that keen on, and to
	pretend otherwise is just... just...
	psychowank.  If she thinks that,
	then she's missing the Brazilian
	rainforest for the twigs.  If I
	can't buy the Plastic People of the
	Universe's first album for new
	girlfriends, then I might as well
	give up, because I'm not sure I
	know how to do anything else.

						CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - MORNING

Rob walks toward the record store, and looks into a
Starbuck's window he passes.  He stops for a second, seeing
Ian at the counter, chatting merrily with the espresso
jockey.  Rob keeps walking.

INT. RECORD STORE - BACK ROOM - DAY

Rob tosses his coat down and picks up the phone and dials...

		LAURA (O.S.)
		(muffled, almost a whisper)
	Hello.

		ROB
	Hey, how ya doin'?

No answer.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Guess who I just saw, right by my
	store?  Ian.  In Starbuck's.  Neat,
	huh?

		LAURA (O.S.)
	I can't talk right now.

		ROB
	God, that's a cold and a half.
	Maybe you should bet back in bed.

No response.
.			ROB (CONT'D)
	Are you alright?

		LAURA (O.S.)
	Pigsty.

		ROB
	Don't worry about it.  Just get
	into bed.  Worry about that when
	you're better.

		LAURA (O.S.)
	Pig died.

		ROB
	Who the fuck's Pig?

		LAURA (O.S.)
		(louder)
	My dad died.  My dad, my dad.

She hangs up.

FRONT ROOM

Rob comes out of the back, in a daze.  Dick and Barry notice.

		BARRY
	What's up?

		ROB
	Laura.  Her dad died.

		BARRY
	Ooh.  Drag.

Barry goes back to his comic book and burrito.

		DICK
	I'm sorry, Rob, that's, it's --

		ROB
	You're a horrible person, Barry.  I
	mean it.

Barry looks up at him, shrugs, then gets an idea.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	Hey.  Top five songs about death.
	A Laura's Dad Tribute list.

Nobody can help thinking about it.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	Okay, okay -- "Leader of the Pack."
	The guy fucking cracks up on a
	cycle and dies right? "Dead Man's
	Curve," Jan and Dean...

		DICK
	Did you know that after that song
	was recorded, Jan himself crashed
	his --

		BARRY
	-- It was Dean, you fucking idiot.

		ROB
	It was Jan, and it was a long time
	after--

		BARRY
	Whatever.  Okay. "Tell Laura I Love
	Her." That'd bring the house down.
	Laura's mom could sing it.

		ROB
	Fuck off, Barry.

		BARRY
	I'd want "One Step Beyond" by
	Madness.  And "You Can't Always Get
	What You Want."

		ROB
	Because it's in The Big Chill.

		BARRY
	Haven't seen it.

		ROB
	Liar.  We saw it in the Lawrence
	Kasdan double-bill with Body Heat.

		BARRY
	Oh.  Right.  But I'd forgotten
	about that.  I wasn't biting the
	idea.

		ROB
	Not really.

The phone RINGS.  Rob picks it up.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Record Exchange.

INTERCUT - IAN'S APARTMENT

Laura is curled up on the couch.  Dick and Barry keep listing.

		LAURA
	I'm sorry.

		ROB
	No, no.  When are you going home?

		LAURA
	In a minute.  When I get it together.

		BARRY
		(to Dick)
	What about Sabbath?  Or Nirvana?
	They're into death.

Rob tries to signal to them to shut up but they don't see
him.  He moves as far away as the cord will let me.

		ROB
	Can I do anything?

		DICK
	"Abraham, Martin, and John." That's
	a nice one.

		BARRY
	"Somebody's Gonna Die" by Blitz.
	"Bella Lugosi's Dead," Bauhaus.
	It's got that creepy Halloween
	feeling.

		LAURA
	No.  No.  Mom wants you to come to
	the funeral.  It's on Friday.

		ROB
	Me?

		LAURA
	My dad liked you.  And Mom never
	told him we'd split, because he
	wasn't up to it and... oh, I don't
	know.  I don't really understand it.
	I think she thinks he'll be able to
	see what's going on.  It's like...
		(small laugh)
	He's been through so much, what
	with dying and everything, that she
	doesn't want to upset him any more
	than she has to.

		ROB
	Do you want me to be there?

		LAURA
	I don't care.  As long as you don't
	expect me to hold your hand.

Rob is silent.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	Look, are you coming or not?

		ROB
	Yes, of course.

		LAURA
	Liz'll give you a lift.  She knows
	where to go and everything... I
	don't have time to talk, Rob.  I've
	got too much to do.

		ROB
	Sure.  I'll see you on Friday.

She hangs up.

		BARRY
		(to the tune of
		"Candle In the Wind")
	"Goodbye Laura's dad/blah blah la
	di da di da/
		(belting it out)
	Seems to me/you lived your life/like
	a dentist in the wind.../

Rob stomps toward Barry, who jumps over the counter to keep
singing --

INT. LIZ'S CAR - DAY

THUNDERCLAPS and RAIN.  Rob is in a somber suit, looking
through the windshield wipers as Liz drives.

		ROB
	So the minister says nice things,
	and then, what, we all troop
	outside and they bury him?

		LIZ
	It's a crematorium.

		ROB
	You're kidding.  A crematorium?
	Jesus.

		LIZ
	What difference does it make?

		ROB
	Is Ray going?

		LIZ
	No.  They don't know him.  And Ken
	liked you.  Rob, Ken didn't die for
	your benefit, you know.  It's like
	everybody's a supporting actor in
	the film of your life story.

		ROB
	Isn't that how it is for everybody?

INT. CHAPEL TWO

Liz and Rob sit in the back of the dark, smallish
nondenominational room.  At the front is a coffin, resting
on a stand.  Laura, her younger sister JO, and her mother
sit in the front row, listening to the MINISTER.

		MINISTER
	...Now and forever, Amen.

He nods "offstage," and a muffled mechanical noise is heard.
The coffin begins to lower through a trap door beneath it.
A low, baleful human HOWL is heard, starting quietly but
gaining in volume.

		ROB (V.O.)
	I hear something in Laura's voice,
	but I know what it is, and at that
	moment I want to go to her and
	offer to become a different person,
	to remove all trace of what is me,
	as long as she will let me look
	after her and try to make her feel
	better...

INT. CHAPEL PARLOR

Rob stays back, watching mourners approach Laura and her
mother, hugging them.  After awhile, Laura sees Rob through
the throng, hanging back.  She breaks through and to him,
holding him close for a long time...

		ROB (V.O.)
	...And when she let's go of me, I
	feel I don't need to become a
	different person.  It's happened
	already.

INT. LAURA'S PARENTS' HOUSE - AFTERNOON

A cozy old Victorian house, full of things -- furniture,
paintings, ornaments, plants -- which don't go together but
which have obviously been chosen with care and taste.  Rob
and Liz stand, drinking wine.  Jo approaches them.

		LIZ
		(to Jo)
	How are you?

		JO
	I'm all right, I suppose.  And
	Mom's not too bad.  But Laura... I
	dunno.

		LIZ
	She's had a pretty rough few weeks
	already, without this.  It's hard
	when you're putting all of your
	efforts into one part of your life
	and it doesn't work out.

She glances at Rob, embarrassed.

		ROB
		(sincere)
	Don't mind me.  No problem.  Just
	pretend you're talking about
	somebody else.

Jo smiles, Liz gives him a look.

		LIZ
	We are talking about somebody else.
	Laura.  Laura and Ray, actually.

Rob begins to turn red.  Anger, sorrow, everything else
building.

		ROB
	Enough, Liz.

		LIZ
	Enough of what?

		ROB
		(getting louder)
	I know I can't speak now because
	Laura's father died, and I just
	have to take it because otherwise
	I'm a bad guy, with the emphasis on
	guy, self-centered.  Well, I'm
	fucking not, not all the time,
	anyway, I'm really sorry Jo.
		(lowering his voice)
	But you know, Liz... I can either
	stick up for myself or believe
	everything you say about me and end
	up hating myself.  And maybe you
	think I should, but it's not much
	of a life, you know?

		LIZ
	Maybe I've been a little unfair.
	But is this really the time?

		ROB
	Only because it's never the time.
	I can't go on apologizing my whole
	life, you know?

		LIZ
	If by "we" you are referring to
	men, then I have to say that just
	the once would do.

Rob looks around the room, beginning to hyperventilate and
near tears.  He sees Laura in a corner of the room surrounded
by four or five mourners.  He crosses to them and breaks
through to her.

		ROB
	I'm sorry.

He breaks away from her and slips out the front door.

EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - AFTERNOON

So darkened by weather that it is almost night, raining
torrents and big sheets.  Rob emerges from the front door of
Laura's parents' house and begins walking down the street,
hands thrust into his pockets.  The rain almost immediately
soaks him.

EXT. ANOTHER STREET

In the distance, Rob runs toward us.  As he gets to us we
move with him down the street.  He is drenched.  We hear the
rain, and his ragged breath.  Headlights appear behind him
and backlight him, getting brighter as the sound of an
engine gets louder.  Rob takes a look over his shoulder,
looks desperately left and right, and vaults himself over a
small brick wall and into a flower bed, landing on his back
in the black wet earth.

The big drops of rain splash mud on his face, and he burrows
deeper into the dirt and flowers with his back, panting and
staring up at the sky.  Off-camera the car engine catches
up, and a door opens and shuts.  He sighs and shuts his
eyes...

He opens his eyes again, to see Laura's face, wet as well,
staring down at him.  It is difficult to distinguish rain
from tears.

		LAURA
	Are you going to lie in that flower
	bed all night?

		ROB
	Uh... No.

But Rob keeps lying there.  Laura pulls herself to a sitting
position on the wall just above him.

		LAURA
	You're soaking.

		ROB
	Mmnn.

		LAURA
	You're also an idiot.

Rob pulls his muddy self to his feet and sits on the wall
next to her.

		ROB
	I can see why you say that.  Look,
	I'm sorry.  I really am.  The last
	thing I wanted was... that's why I
	left, because... I lost it, and I
	didn't want to blow my top in
	there, and... look, the reason I
	fucked everything up was because I
	was scared.  I just wanted you to
	know, that's all.

		LAURA
	Thank you.  I appreciate it.  I
	can't reciprocate.

		ROB
	What do you mean?
.			LAURA
	I didn't mess things up because I
	was scared.  I slept with Ray
	because I was sick of you.  And I
	needed something to snap me out of
	it.

		ROB
	Sure, I understand.  Look, I don't
	want to take up any more of your
	time.  You get back, and I'll wait
	here for a bus.

		LAURA
	I don't want to go back.

		ROB
	What do you want to do?

		LAURA
	C'mon.

They swing their legs over the wall and walk to Laura's VW.

INT. LAURA'S CAR - NIGHT

They drive sort of aimlessly through Laura's old neighborhood.
Laura sees something on her left, and makes a sudden turn up
a narrow road through some overgrown trees.  They come to a
stop in a formerly paved clearing, looking out on a field
with an old abandoned school on the other side.  Laura shuts
down the engine.

		ROB
	When are you going back?

		LAURA
	I don't know.  Sometime.  Later.
	Listen, Rob, would you have sex
	with me?

		ROB
	What?

		LAURA
	I want to feel something else than
	this.  It's either that or I go
	home and put my hand in the fire.
	Unless you want to stub cigarettes
	out on my arm.

		ROB
	I've only got a couple left.  I'm
	saving them for later.

		LAURA
	It'll have to be sex, then.

She pulls herself over him, staddling him in the passenger
seat and kissing his neck.  She pauses and regards him from
above.

		LAURA
	Hello.  It doesn't seem so long ago
	that I looked at you from here.

		ROB
	Hi.

		LAURA
	I knew there was a reason I wore a
	skirt today.

Laura reaches down and unzips his pants, as they keep kissing.

		ROB
	You know, with Ray...

		LAURA
	Oh, Rob, we're not going to go
	through that again.

		ROB
	No, no.  It's not... are you still
	on the pill?

		LAURA
	Yes, of course.  There's nothing to
	worry about.

		ROB
	I didn't mean that.  I mean... was
	that all you used?

Laura looks at him, motionless, then begins to cry.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Look, we can do other things.

		LAURA
	I lived with you.  You were my
	partner just a few weeks ago and
	now you're worried I might kill
	you, and you're entitled to worry.
	Isn't that a terrible thing?  Isn't
	that sad?

She rolls off of him into her seat.  They sit there in
silence, watching the rain run down the windshield.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	Later, I wonder if I was really
	worried about where Ian has been.
	I have no idea where he's been, and
	that gives me every right to insist
	on protection.  But in truth, it
	was the power that interested me
	more than the fear.  I wanted to
	hurt her, on this day of all days,
	just because it's the first time
	since she's left that I've been
	able to.

INT. BAR - LATER

Rob and Laura lean back in a booth, facing each other.  We
get that feeling that not another word has been spoken since
we last saw them.

		ROB
	Laura...

		LAURA
	I'm too tired not to go out with you.

Rob leans forward.

		ROB
	So if you had a bit more energy
	we'd stay split.  But things being
	how they are, what with you wiped
	out, you'd like us to get back
	together.

		LAURA
		(nodding)
	Everything's too hard.  Maybe
	another time I would have the guts
	to be on my own, but not now I don't.

		ROB
	What about Ian?

		LAURA
	Ray's a disaster.  I don't know
	what that was all about, except
	that sometimes you need someone to
	lob into the middle of a bad
	relationship like a hand grenade, I
	guess, and blow it all apart.

		ROB
	Mission accomplished.

		LAURA
	I know it's not very romantic, but
	there will be romance again at some
	stage, I'm sure.  I just... I need
	you, Rob.  That's it.  And we know
	each other and we care for each
	other, and you've made it clear
	that you want me back, so...

She looks up at him.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	Let's go home.  Okay?

		ROB
	Okay.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	But wouldn't you know it?  Suddenly
	I feel panicky, and sick, and I
	want to run around and sleep with
	female recording artists...

						CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - MORNING

Post-lovemaking.  Rob and Laura lie on their backs.

		ROB
	C'mon.  I want to know.

		LAURA
	Want to know what, exactly?

		ROB
	What it was like.

		LAURA
	It was like sex.  What else could
	it be like?

		ROB
	Was it like good sex or was it like
	bad sex?

		LAURA
	What's the difference?

		ROB
	You know the difference.

		LAURA
	Look, we're okay now.  We just had
	a nice time.  Let's leave it at that.

		ROB
	Okay, that's cool, okay.  But the
	nice time we just had... was it
	nicer, as nice, or less nice than
	the nice times you were having a
	couple of weeks ago?

Laura is silent.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Oh, c'mon, Laura.  Just say
	something.  Lie, if you want.  It'd
	stop me asking you questions and
	it'd make me feel better.

		LAURA
	Well I was gonna lie and now I
	can't, because you'd know I was
	lying.

		ROB
	Well why the fuck would you want to
	lie, anyway?

		LAURA
	To make you feel better.

		ROB
	Oh, great...

Rob begins to get out of bed.  She grabs his hand and pulls
him back down.

		LAURA
	Look, Rob.  If great sex was an
	important as you think it is, and
	if I was having great sex with him,
	then we wouldn't be lying here now.
	And that is my last word on the
	subject, okay?

		ROB
	Okay.

She pulls him close and they lie there, the matter seemingly
settled.

		LAURA
	I wish your penis was as big as
	his, though.

He turns slowly to her.  A giggle from her turns into a
laugh, then a howl, a roar --

EXT. LAKEFRONT - TWILIGHT

Rob and Laura walk the cement breakfront.

		LAURA
	... Like Mexico.  Or Jamaica.  Or
	New York, even.

		ROB
	Hey, great idea.  What I'll do is,
	tomorrow I'll get a hold of a box
	full of mint Elvis Presley 78s on
	the Sub label, and I'll pay for it
	that way.

		LAURA
	I'll pay for you.  Even though you
	owe me money.  We have to do
	something with the money I earn.  I
	need to.  I deserve it.  You can
	just think of it as winning the
	lottery.

		ROB
	Fantastic.  The Girlfriend Lottery.

		LAURA
	Money does not matter.  I do not
	care how much you earn.  I'd just
	like you to be a little happier in
	your work, but beyond that you can
	do what you like.
.			ROB
	But it wasn't supposed to be like
	this.  When I met you we were the
	same people and now we're not, and...

		LAURA
	How?  How were we the same people?

		ROB
	Well, you were the kind of person
	who came to the Artful Dodger and I
	was the kind of person who deejayed
	at the Artful Dodger.  You wore
	jeans and T-shirts, and so did I.
	And I still do, and you don't.

		LAURA
	Because I'm not allowed to.  I
	still do, after work.  So, what?
	Should we just break up?  Is that
	what you're saying?  Because if you
	are, I'm going to run out of
	patience.

		ROB
	No, but...

		LAURA
	But what?

		ROB
	But why doesn't it matter that
	we're not the same people we used
	to be?

		LAURA
	You haven't changed so much as a
	pair of socks in the years I've
	known you.  If we've grown apart,
	then I'm the one who's done the
	growing, and all I've done is
	change jobs.

		ROB
	And hairstyles and clothes and
	attitude and friends and...

		LAURA
	I can't go to work with my hair
	dyed pink.  And I can afford to go
	shopping more now, and I've met a
	couple people I like over the last
	year or so.

		ROB
	You're tougher.

		LAURA
	More confident, maybe.

		ROB
	Harder.

		LAURA
	Less neurotic.  Are you intending
	to stay the same for the rest of
	your life?

		ROB
	I'm alright.

		LAURA
	Yeah, you're alright.  But you're
	certainly not happy.  So what
	happens if you get happy?  And yes
	I know that's the title of an Elvis
	Costello album, I use the reference
	deliberately to catch your attention.
	Should we split up because I'm used
	to you being miserable?  What
	happens if you, I don't know, start
	you're own record label, and it's a
	success?  Time for a new girlfriend?

		ROB
	You're being stupid.

		LAURA
	How?  What would be the difference
	between you having a record label
	and me going from legal aid to
	private practice?

Rob is silent.

		LAURA
	All I'm saying is, you have to
	allow for things to happen to
	people, most of all to yourself.
	Otherwise, what's the use?

		ROB
	No use.

INT./EXT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob comes out of the stock room and walks toward the counter
where Dick and Barry stare at the tape deck like two
concerned doctors, listening to a song that is raw and moody
and lyrical -- Minor Threat meets Brian Eno, if that's
possible.  Rob joins them in contemplation.

		ROB
	What is this.

		DICK
	It's Vince and Justin.

		ROB
	Who's that?

		BARRY
	The little skate-fuckers.

		ROB
	No way.

		BARRY
	Yes way.  It's really...

Rob and Dick look at him, ready to pounce --

		BARRY (CONT'D)
		(pained to say it)
	It's really fucking good.

Dick and Barry look to Rob, who continues to just listen...
He takes a deep breath and walks to the front door and out,
seemingly with a mission.

Vince and Justin are doing noisy skate tricks against the
curb across the street.  When they see Rob they stop, get
ready to flee.  He walks across to them.  Dick comes out and
hovers in the background.

		ROB
	Your tape.  It's good.

They mumble thanks.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	It's rough.  But it shows promise.
	We record a couple of songs right,
	in a studio.  I'll take care of the
	rest.  I'll put out your record.
	Any profits after recouping expenses
	get split down the middle, between
	us and you guys.

		VINCE
	Wait a minute.  Island Records
	charged U2 a million five against
	their overhead for one plane ride.

		ROB
	We're not there yet, Justin.

		VINCE
	I'm Vince.

		ROB
	Whatever.

He begins to move toward the store.  Vince and Justin look
at each other.  Rob gets to the door but stops and turns.

		ROB (CONT'D)
	Hey.  What's the name of your band?

		JUSTIN
	The Kinky Wizards.

		ROB
	What?

		VINCE
	We saw this ad in the personals for
	two swingers lookin' for a
	Renaissance fair.

		ROB
	Nice.

		VINCE
	What's the name of your label?

Rob looks at them.  Then at Dick.  Then through the window
at Barry, inside looking out.  Then at his own reflection in
the window.  Then back at them.

		ROB
	Broken Records.  Welcome aboard.

Rob walks back inside.  He seems to be shaking a little.

		BARRY
	What the fuck is that?

		ROB
	What?

		BARRY
	I heard you, man.  Don't give me
	that "what" shit.  You just told
	them that you're gonna put out a
	record with them.

		ROB
	So?  You even said they're good.

		BARRY
	HELLO.  DO YOU SEE ANYONE ELSE
	around here with a band, Mr.
	Branson?  Mr. Phil Spector?

Rob waves him off and disappears into the stock room.  Laura
enters.

		LAURA
	Hey, Barry.

		BARRY
	Oh, hi.

		LAURA
	Where's Rob?

		BARRY
	The Malcolm McClaren of Clark
	Street is in his executive suite.
	Do you have an appointment?

		LAURA
	What are you talking about?

		BARRY
	Just that Rob seems to think it
	would be wiser to start a record
	label by putting out a record with
	business-crippling Nazi Youth
	shoplifters than with someone he
	knows in his bitter jealous heart
	is a musical visionary.  That's all.

Laura puts it together, and smiles.  She goes to the back
and crack the door, finding Rob sitting on a box, thinking.

		ROB
	Hi.

		LAURA
	Hi.  What are you doing?

		ROB
	Nothing.

		LAURA
	Wanna go to dinner?

		ROB
	Where?

		LAURA
	At Paul and Miranda's.  Paul from
	work.

		ROB
	Oh.  Well.  We don't really get
	along.  Paul and I.

		LAURA
	I know.  But you've never met.  It
	just seems like a stone unturned in
	your relationship with him.

		ROB
	Ha.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	We're at a point where I can't
	really walk away from gauntlets she
	might throw down, and so I go.  And
	wouldn't you know it, I sort of
	fall in love with Paul and
	Miranda -- with what they have, and
	the way they treat each other, and
	the way they make me feel as if I'm
	the new center of their world.  I
	think they're great, and I want to
	see them twice a week, every week,
	for the rest of my life.  Only
	right at the end of the evening do
	I realize I've been set up.

INT. PAUL AND MIRANDA'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

After dinner.  Rob ambles in from the dining room.  Laura
close behind.  He looks through the bookshelves until he
finds a meager little grouping of CDs.  He moves up to them
and scans the titles: Tina Turner.  Billy Joel.  Kate Bush.
Pink Floyd.  Simply Red.  The Beatles.  The Windham Hill
Sampler...

		PAUL
	Lame, right?

Rob turns around to see PAUL behind him.

		ROB
	Oh, I don't know.  The Beatles are
	okay.

Paul laughs.

		PAUL
	We're kinda out of date.

		ROB
	Hey, to each his own, I say.

		PAUL
	Maybe we can come by your store and
	you can hook us up.

		ROB
	Sure, sure.  Any time.

		LAURA
	Better hurry, though, Paul.  Rob
	started a record label, so he's
	gonna be in the shop less and less.

Rob looks at her.

						CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

as they come in the door.

		LAURA
	..."To each his own!" Unbelievable!
	You!  Rob Gordon said that.  You
	even sounded like you meant it.

They throw their jackets over a chair.  Rob turns on the CD
player and "Call Me A Liar" by Palace begins to play.

		ROB
		(smiling)
	You did that deliberately.  You
	knew all along I'd like them.  It
	was a trick.

		LAURA
	I tricked you into meeting some
	people you'd think were great.  I
	thought it would be fun to introduce
	you to someone with a Tina Turner
	album and then see whether you
	still felt the same way.

She moves to Rob and wraps her arms around him.  They look
deeply at each other.  She breaks away from him and walks
into the bedroom.  He turns off the stereo and follows her.

EXT. CLARK STREET - MORNING

Rob walks to work, drinking his coffee.  He stops and backs
up a few feet, and stares at a poster on a plywood board-up.

"'I SOLD MY MOM'S WHEELCHAIR'/the debut single from The
Kinky Wizards/on Broken Records/Record release party July 20
at The Artful Dodger/Featuring the triumphant return of DJ
ROB GORDON/"Dance Music For Old People"

Rob scowls, and storms off.

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rob paces, Laura sits on the couch, smiling.

		LAURA
	I called Dan Koretzky because he --

		ROB
	Has Drag City Records, I know, I
	know.  You told Dan Koretzky about
	this?

		LAURA
	Yeah, and he said it's a good way
	to break out a record.  Especially
	for what he said, and I quote,
	"would be a highly anticipated
	event, locally." He helped me put
	out a press release.

		ROB
	WHAT?

		LAURA
	Just local, of course.

		ROB
	And the "triumphant return of DJ
	Rob Gordon?" "Triumphant?" "Return?"
.			LAURA
	I had that idea when I was living
	with Ian and it was such a good
	idea that I was annoyed we weren't
	together anymore.  It might even be
	why I came back.

		ROB
	You had no right.  Supposing I was
	doing something that couldn't be
	cancelled?

		LAURA
	What do you ever do that can't be
	cancelled?

		ROB
	That's not the point.  I mean, what
	if the single isn't done in time?

		LAURA
	Barry said its done.

		ROB
	Barry?  Barry knows about this?

		LAURA
	Yeah.  His band is playing a set.

Rob wheels on her.

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob and Barry.

		ROB
	Like fuck you are.

		BARRY
	Laura said we could.  If we helped
	out with the posters and stuff.
	And we did.  And we are.

		ROB
	I'll give you 10% of the door if
	you don't play.

		BARRY
	We're getting that anyway.

		ROB
	What is she doing?  Okay, 20%.

		BARRY
	No.  We need the gig.

		ROB
	110%.  That's my final offer.  I'm
	not kidding.  That's how much it
	means to me not to hear you play.

		BARRY
	We're not as bad as you think, Rob.

		ROB
	You couldn't be.  Look, Barry.
	There's going to be people from
	Laura's work there, people who own
	dogs and babies and Tina Turner
	albums.  How are you going to cope
	with them?

		BARRY
	We're not called Barrytown anymore,
	by the by.  They got sick of the
	Barry/Barrytown thing.  We're
	called SDM.  Sonic Death Monkey.

		ROB
	Sonic Death Monkey.

		BARRY
	What do you think?  Dick likes it.

		ROB
	Barry, you're over thirty years old.
	You owe it to yourself and your
	friends and to your parents not to
	sing in a group called Sonic Death
	Monkey.

		BARRY
	I owe it to myself to go right to
	the edge, Rob, and this group does
	exactly that.  Over the edge, in
	fact.

		ROB
	You'll be going over the fucking
	edge if you come anywhere near me
	next Friday night.

		BARRY
	That's what we want.  Reaction.
	And if Laura's bourgeois lawyer
	friends can't take it, then fuck
	'em.  Let 'em riot, we can handle
	it.  We'll be ready.

Barry wanders off laughing.

						CUT TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Rob and Laura.

		LAURA
	They'll go on early.  Nobody will
	even be there yet and I told them
	they can't play for more than a
	half hour.

		ROB
	It's no joke.  I'm responsible for
	what happens, you know.
	Embarrassment aside, there's a lot
	of money and effort in this, at
	least by my standards.  I have to
	put down a deposit for the room.  I
	have to pay the pressing plant for
	the records, sleeve them, sticker
	them --

		LAURA
	We took care of that.

Rob's brow furrows.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	Barry and Dick and me.  Look in the
	bedroom.

Rob goes to the bedroom door and opens it.  It's sort of
like Christmas: hundreds of Kinky Wizards CD singles,
painstakingly packaged and stacked on the bed.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	I suddenly feel choked up.  It's
	not the money, it's the way she's
	thought of everything: one morning
	I woke up to find her going through
	my records, pulling out things that
	she remembered me playing when I
	deejayed and putting them into the
	little carrying cases that I used
	to use and put away in a closet
	somewhere years ago.
	She knew I needed a kick in the ass.
	She also knew how happy I was when
	I used to deejay.  From which every
	angle I examine it, it still looks
	as though she's done all of this
	because she loves me.

						CUT BACK TO:

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT

Rob turns from the bedroom and goes to Laura, putting his
arms around her.

		ROB
	I'm sorry I've been acting like a
	jerk.  I do appreciate what you've
	done for me, and I know you've done
	it for the best possible reasons,
	and I do love you, even though I
	act like I don't.

		LAURA
	That's okay.  You seem pissed off
	all the time, though.

		ROB
	I know.  I don't get it.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	But if I had to take a wild guess,
	I'd say that I'm pissed because I
	know I'm stuck with Laura, bound to
	her, and I don't like it.  That
	dreamy anticipation you have when
	you're fifteen or twenty or thirty
	even, that the most perfect person
	in the world might walk into your
	store or office or friend's party
	at any moment... That's all gone, I
	think, and that's enough to piss
	anybody off.  Laura is who I am
	now, and it's no good pretending
	otherwise...

						CUT TO:

INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob is standing shelves.  A very pretty young woman,
CAROLINE, comes through the door and looks around.  She sees
Rob.

		CAROLINE
	Excuse me?

Rob looks up and takes her in like a dish in a window.

		ROB
	May I help you?

		CAROLINE
	I'm looking for Deejay Rob Gordon.

		ROB
	Uh.  That's me.

		CAROLINE
	I'm Caroline Fortis from The Reader.
	I want to do a story on you.

		ROB
	Right.  Why?

		CAROLINE
	Well, I used to go to the Dodger on
	your nights, and I saw you're doing
	it again and that your putting out
	a record, and it's sort of a then-
	and-now story against the backdrop
	of the Chicago music scene with the
	emphasis on now.

		ROB
	Oh.  Okay.

		CAROLINE
	I thought I would ask you a few
	questions if that's okay.

		ROB
	Huh.  You used to come to the club?
	I shouldn't have let you in.  You
	must have only been about sixteen.

Rob realizes what he must be sounding like.  He blushes and
retreats.

		ROB
	What I mean is, I didn't mean you
	look young.  You don't.  You don't
	look old either.  You look just as
	old as you are.  A bit younger
	maybe, but not a lot.  Not much.
	Just right.

		CAROLINE
	So.  Is now a good time?

Rob looks around: there is absolutely nothing going on in
the store.  He nods.  She pulls out a pad and pencil.

		CAROLINE
	Right.  So.  You must have an
	enormous record collection.

		ROB
	Yeah.  I could show it to you if
	you want to come over and see it.

He winces immediately.

		CAROLINE
	Yeah, well... Let's see... What are
	you're all-time top five records?

		ROB
	Pardon me?

		CAROLINE
	Your desert island top-five.

		ROB
	Oh boy... In the club, or at home?

		CAROLINE
	Is there a difference?

		ROB
		(a little too shrill)
	OF COURSE... Well yeah, a bit. "Sin
	City" by the Flying Burrito Brothers
	is an all-time top five, but I
	wouldn't play it at the club.  It's
	a country-rock ballad.  Everybody'd
	go home.

		CAROLINE
	Nevermind.  Any five.  So four more.

		ROB
	What do you mean, four more?

		CAROLINE
	Well if one of them is this "Sin
	City" thing --

		ROB
	Can I go home and work this out and
	let you know?  In a week or so?

		CAROLINE
	Look if you can't think of anything,
	it doesn't matter.  I'll do one.
	My five favorite from the old days
	at the Dodger.

Rob is aghast, humiliated, quietly outraged.

		ROB
	Oh, I'm sure I can manage
	something... "Sin City." "New
	Rose," by The Damned. "Hit It and
	Quit It" by Funkadelic.
	"Shipbuilding," Elvis Costello,
	Japanese import, no horns, or
	different horns, anyway... um...
	"Mystery Train" by Elvis Presley...
	And... "Spaced Cowboy" by Sly and
	the Family Stone.  A bit
	controversial, I know, but...

		CAROLINE
	Fine.  That's great.

		ROB
	Is that it?

		CAROLINE
	Well, I wouldn't mind a quick chat,
	if you got the time.

		ROB
	Sure, but is that it for the list?

		CAROLINE
	That's five.  So.  Why did you
	decide to deejay again?

		ROB
	Well it was a friend's idea,
	really, and the record release
	party seemed like a good place to
	do it.  So...
		(looking over her pad
		at the list)
	I should really put a James Brown
	in there --

		CAROLINE
	Nice friend.

		ROB
	Yeah.

		CAROLINE
	What's his name?

		ROB
	Who?  Oh.  My friend.  My friend is
	Laura.  A girl.  A friend who's a
	girl.

		CAROLINE
	"Music for Old People." What does
	that mean?

		ROB
	Look, I'm sorry about this, but I'd
	like "the Upsetter" by Lee "Scratch"
	Perry, in there.  Instead of "Sin
	City."

She scribbles and writes.

		CAROLINE
	Okay. "Dance Music For Old People?"

		ROB
	Oh, you know... a lot of people
	aren't too old for clubs but
	they're too old for acid jazz and
	garage and ambient and all that.
	They want to hear old funk and Stax
	and New Wave and Old School Hip Hop
	and some new stuff all together and
	there's nowhere for them.

		CAROLINE
	And the new label?  And the Kinky
	Wizards?

		ROB
	Oh, well, the Kinky Wizards are --
	you know what?  Why don't I just
	make you a tape?

		CAROLINE
	Would you?  Really?  Wow.  I could
	have deejay Rob Gordon play in my
	own home.

		ROB
	Haha.  Right.  It's no problem.  I
	love making tapes.

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	A good compilation tape, like
	breaking up, is hard to do and
	takes ages longer than it might
	seem.  You gotta kick off with a
	killer, to hold the attention.
	Then you have to take it up a
	notch, but not blow your wad, so
	maybe cool it off a notch, and you
	can't put the same artist twice on
	the tape, except if some subtle
	point or lesson or theme involved,
	and even then not the two of them
	in a row, and you can't woo somebody
	with Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow
	Taxi" and then bash their head off
	with something like GBH's "City
	Baby Attacked by Rats," and... oh,
	there are a lot of rules.  Anyway,
	I worked hard at this one.

INT. ROB AND LAURA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Rob sits Indian-style on the floor in front of the stereo.
He has a pad of paper with scrawled titles and cross-outs,
and is surrounded by piles of CDs and records.

		LAURA
	Who's that for?

Rob winces, turns.  He's busted.

		ROB
	This?  Oh, just that woman who
	interviewed me for The Reader.
	Carol?  Caroline?  Something like
	that.

Laura turns and walks out of the room.
.INT. RECORD STORE - DAY

Rob is tucked into the corner, on the phone.

		ROB
	Hi, Caroline... Oh, it's Rob.
	Yeah, listen, I have a new list for
	you and -- Oh.  Yes.  Of course...
	Well maybe next week they could
	print a, uh, retraction.  Or a
	correction.  Because the list I
	have now it really much more --
	right.  Okay.  Anyway, I have your
	tape.  That's right.  Shall I mail
	it to you?  Or... would you like to
	have a drink?

						CUT TO:

ROB IN HIS CHAIR

Rob to camera.

		ROB
	How are you not going to fall for
	someone who wants to interview you?
	Now Caroline is all I can think
	about.  And in the daydreams I
	imagine every detail, the entire
	story of our future relationship,
	until suddenly I realize that
	there's nothing left to actually,
	like, happen.  I've done it all,
	lived through it all in my head.  I
	know the whole plot, the ending,
	and the good parts.  Now I'd have
	to watch it all over again in real
	time, and where's the fun in that?
	And fucking--when is it all going
	to stop?  Am I going to jump from
	rock to rock for the rest of my
	life until there aren't any rocks
	left?  Am I going to bolt every
	time I get itchy feet?  Because I
	get them about once a quarter,
	along with the store's tax bill.
	I've been thinking with my guts
	since I was fourteen years old and,
	frankly speaking, I've come to the
	conclusion that my guts have shit
	for brains.
	You know what's wrong with Laura,
	what my problem is?  What's wrong
	with Laura is that I'll never see
	her for the first or second or
	third time.  That's all.  Fuck it.
	I'll probably mail the tape.
	Probably.

						CUT TO:

INT. NORTH SIDE TAVERN - DAY

Rob sits at a table in the bar, nervous.  He watches the
door, sits up straight when it opens, and follows someone
with his eyes, all the way to his table.  She sits.  It's
Laura.

		LAURA
	A drinking lunch on a school day.
	What a nice surprise.

Rob says nothing.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	Are you worried about tomorrow night?

		ROB
	Not really.

He plays with his drink.

		LAURA
	Are you going to talk to me, or
	shall I get my paper out?

		ROB
	I'm going to talk to you.

		LAURA
	Right.

He plays with his drink some more.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	What are you going to talk to me
	about?

		ROB
	I'm going to talk to you about
	whether you want to get married or
	not.  To me.

		LAURA
	Ha ha ha.  Hoo hoo hoo.

		ROB
	I mean it.

		LAURA
	I know.

		ROB
	Oh, well thanks a fucking bunch.

		LAURA
	I'm sorry.  But two days ago you
	were in love with that girl who
	interviewed you for The Reader,
	weren't you?

		ROB
	Not in love, exactly, but...

		LAURA
	Well forgive me if I don't think of
	you as the world's safest bet.

		ROB
	Would you marry me if I was?

		LAURA
	No.  Probably not.

		ROB
	Right.  Okay, then.  Shall we go?

		LAURA
	Don't sulk.  What brought all this
	on?

		ROB
	I don't know.

		LAURA
	Very persuasive.

		ROB
	Are you persuadable?

		LAURA
	No.  I don't think so.  I'm just
	curious about how one goes from
	making tapes for one person to
	marriage proposals to another in
	two days.  Fair enough?

		ROB
	Fair enough.

		LAURA
	So?

		ROB
	I'm just sick of thinking about it
	all the time.

		LAURA
	About what?

		ROB
	This stuff.  Love and marriage.  I
	want to think about something else.

		LAURA
	I've changed my mind.  That's the
	most romantic thing I've ever heard.
	I do.  I will.

		ROB
	Shut up.  I'm only trying to explain.

		LAURA
	I mean, maybe you're right.  But
	were you really expecting me to say
	yes?

		ROB
	I dunno.  Didn't think about it,
	really.  It was the asking that was
	the important thing.

		LAURA
	Well, you've asked.

She leans over and takes his hands in hers, smiles at him.

		LAURA (CONT'D)
	Thank you.

INT. ARTFUL DODGER - NIGHT

TWO TURNTABLES

with the mixer in the middle. "Just Begun" by Jimmy Castor
spins on turntable #1.  A hand reaches in, and begins to
draw the slides down, quieting the music.

Rob looks up from behind the deejay table, set up amongst
the instruments.  The place is packed with people, and
everyone seems to be having a great time.
Almost everyone -- Rob sees Barry, who pretends to nod off
when Rob catches his eye, and Justin, who looks back at him
and mocks a bulimic act.  Rob gives him the finger.  He sees
Laura, and she beams at him.  He comes to the front of the
stage, and taps a microphone.

		ROB
	Uh, thanks for uh, coming out
	tonight.  I hope you have a good
	time.  And I hope you like the
	record.  The one by the Kinky
	Wizards.  The record that we're
	having this record release party
	for.
		(hoots from the crowd)
	Thanks.  Listen to it first, though.
		(laughs)
	Okay.  We'll get to that later.
	Right now, I'd like to introduce...
		(mumbles)
	Sonic Death Monkey.

Good-natured applause.  Rob steps down and bee-lines to
Laura.  Barry and his crew mount the stage.  Rob takes a big
gulp of beer.

		ROB (CONT'D)
		(to Laura)
	I'm an idiot.  I should have played
	the record first.  This place is
	about to get burned down.

		LAURA
	It's gonna be fine.  These people
	are ready for anything.

		BARRY
		(dubious)
	Yeah, well...

Barry stands in front of the mic, surveying the crowd with a
smile.  He and the band all wear suits and ties.

		BARRY (CONT'D)
	Thanks for the enthusiastic intro,
	Rob.  We're not called Sonic Death
	Monkey anymore, though, ladies and
	gentlemen.  We might be on the
	verge of becoming the Atavistics,
	but we haven't decided yet.  But
	tonight, we are... BARRY JIVE AND
	THE UPTOWN FIVE!  ONE TWO THREE --

And they launch into Marvin Gaye's "Got To Give It Up,"
almost flawlessly faithful to the original.  Barry is
transformed -- shuffling footwork, a wide smile, and when
the intro winds up, an almost perfect falsetto.  The crowd
goes nuts, filling the floor.  Rob is stunned, begins to
smile.  Laura takes his hand and leads him out into the
crowd...

THE END.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
High Fidelity (2000) movie script - Screenplays for You

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
High Fidelity (2000) movie script - Screenplays for You