No Water for Nietzsche

By Jonothon Mitchell

 

FADE IN:

 

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

 

Itís a bright sunny day in the city, where we find -

 

SPENCER NIETZSCHE Ė very well dressed, a true loser, but never at first sight Ė is sitting with a briefcase at the bus stop. Every now and again he checks his watch, heís waiting for something.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE (V.O)

Every Saturday, she starts with the whites until she finally reaches the colors. She only uses the best of laundry detergent and her bleach of choice is Clorox.

 

We pan around to follow Nietzscheís line of vision. He is staring directly into the large window of a laundry mat. In the middle of the laundry mat is a young girl, no more than twenty-two.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE (V.O.)

Her name is Eliza and Iíve been watching her now for about four weeks. I donít really think of myself as a stalker, Iím just looking for romance. Iíd just like a taste of her tall glass of water.

†††††

Nietzsche ruffles through a small briefcase that is on the bench next to him. He produces a book and begins to read.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE (V.O.)

Of course Iím not the most social of people. I was never popular in high school and to tell you the complete and honest truth Iíve never even had the joy of being kissed by a woman. So that glass of water is long overdue to quench my thirst.

 

Every so often his eyes travel from the book to the window where he watches Eliza.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE (V.O.)

But when youíre a writer who can really say what kind of water you could get. It seems to be my weakness to always go after that glass that seems too expensive for my tastes.

 

REBECCA - stunningly beautiful, large brown eyes, and a killer smile - approaches Nietzsche. She points to the empty space beside him.

 

REBECCA

Is this seat taken?

 

Nietzsche snaps back to reality. He shakes his head and returns his gaze back to his book. Beside him Rebecca begins to talk to herself. Her low mumbles can barely heard over the loud workings of the city streets.

 

Nietzsche turns and looks to her. He casts a sideways glance and returns to his book.

 

Rebecca continues to talk. Now, her words are beginning to hold some meaning until finally Nietzsche catches what sheís said.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA

What sadness lengthens Romeoís hours?

 

Never removing his eyes from the book Ė

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

Not having that, which having, makes them short.

 

Rebecca turns quickly to him. She smiles.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA

In love?

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

Out Ė

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA

Of love?

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

Out of her favor, where I am in love.

 

Rebecca laughs.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA

Shakespeare. Iím impressed.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

Iíve been attending the community college. My English class has been studying his works.

 

REBECCA

Sounds interesting. I myself just got back from a matinee viewing of Zeffirelliís Romeo and Juliet. I swear it must get better every time I see it.

 

Beat. Nietzsche extends his hand. He is expressing his interest in her.

 

††††††††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

††††† ††††† Spencer. Spencer Nietzsche.

 

††††† Rebecca politely shakes his hand.

 

††††††††††† ††††† REBECCA††††

††††† ††††† Nice to meet you Spencer, Iím Rebecca.

 

††††††††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

††††† ††††† Have you always enjoyed Shakespeare?

 

††††††††††† ††††† REBECCA

††††† ††††† Heís a genius. How couldnít you enjoy his work?

 

Rumbling towards them the bus comes to a full stop in front of Nietzsche and Rebecca.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA (contíd)

††††† Thatís my ride.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

††††† Nice meeting you.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA

††††† Goodnight! Goodnight! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

††††† That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

 

Rebecca laughs.

 

††††† ††††† REBECCA (contíd)

††††† Maybe Iíll see you around.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE

††††† Maybe.

 

Rebecca disappears through the doors of the bus. Nietzsche watches as his only chance ends with the shut of the doors and the low rumble of an engine as the bus drives away into the city.

 

Nietzsche diverts his attention from the bus back to the laundry mat. Eliza is neatly folding her clothes.

 

As folding a towel her eyes travel from the pile of clothes in front of her to the quietly sitting Nietzsche at the bus stop. Their eyes meet. She smiles.

 

Nietzsche smiles and nods. He returns to his book and continues reading.

 

††††† ††††† NIETZSCHE (V.O.)

I may never receive that tall glass of water Iíve always hoped for. But what I wouldnít give for just a sip.

 

†††††