Читать книгу It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken: The Smart Girl’s Breakup Buddy - Greg Behrendt - Страница 10

(Or, How the Hell Did a Kick-Ass Lady Like Myself End Up in This Agonizing Nightmare?)

INT. HIS APARTMENT—NIGHT

An attractive couple, late twenties, sit on the couch in front of a burning fire. The setting is romantic. He gets up and paces nervously, taking a swig from his bottle of beer.

HIM

There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.

She expectantly puts down her wineglass and checks that her lips are appropriately glossed for the big moment.

YOU

We can talk about anything. That’s why we’re so perfect together.

He paces in front of her, searching for the right words.

HIM

It’s just that…we’ve been together for a while now. And I always have a great time with you…

YOU

I know, it’s like we were made for each other!

HIM

You’re a really special person, and someday you’ll make the perfect wife…

YOU

(excitedly) Yes???

He squats down in front of her and grabs both her hands. She can hardly believe it’s about to happen…

HIM

…Just not for me. I think we should see other people…

She clearly didn’t hear him, as she interrupts him…

YOU

I’d love to! (realizing) Wait—what did you just ask me?

HIM

(relieved) Really? That’s great! I thought you were going to get really upset. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that for weeks.

She gets up and walks to the kitchen and starts pulling open all the drawers.

HIM

What are you looking for?

YOU

Something to hit you with.