Aftertaste Page #18

Season #1 Episode #1

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Melody Rae follows Kat to the table and sits. Kat fills their glasses to the rim with wine.

MELODY RAE:

I was sad, wasn’t I? I didn’t even know how

unhappy I was, until after he left me. He

knew we weren’t meant to be together,

before I did. You know, it’s true what they

say. . .when one person is unhappy, more than

likely both people are unhappy and one

person just hasn’t realized it, yet. And,

uh, that’d be me. I wanted so badly to

believe I’d made the right choice. I mean,

I married the guy. I didn’t want to think I

was a failure at commitment. Can you

believe we met online?

KAT:

N-o-o-o! Seriously? I don’t remember that.

Well, Melody Rae, that says volumes, don’t

you think? I think online dating can work

out for some people, but it still seems

like a huge risk.

MELODY RAE:

It was. The biggest risk I’d ever taken.

And not one I will ever take again.”

SUPERIMPOSE:
AUGUST 2000

SUPERIMPOSE:

Typical Daily Food Choices:

Folgers medium roast coffee w/heavy cream

donut

Coca Cola or 7Up

barbecue potato chips

Snickers bar or Hostess Twinkie

Kraft macaroni & cheese

barbecue:
(vegetarian) chicken, hamburgers, hotdogs, bacon, steak

cheap red wine

vodka & Squirt

KYLE SPEARS—(Swordfish) 25, Southern, short, mustache, fair-skinned, mama’s boy, independently wealthy, law student.

SUPERIMPOSE:

Kyle Spears—Denial Kyle

Catfish

A firm, white meat that is sturdier than most other white fish, but with a small flakiness it is ultimately quite delicate and fragile.

INT. MELODY RAE’S COTTAGE - MORNING

Melody Rae is methodically clicking the arrow cursor down the page of her laptop viewing dozens of photos of eligible men on a popular and free Internet dating site. In between bites of her donut and sips of coffee she scrutinizes with groans one unattractive older man after another. They are either bald, going bald, or wearing a hat to disguise their baldness. Her new puppy, a black and white cocker spaniel, barks after her loud reaction to a man clearly not her type.

MELODY RAE:

(pets her puppy)

Right, Oreo?! I mean, I’m not that

desperate.

(she looks back at the profile)

Am I?

(beat)

NO!

Resuming to peruse the online dating site, she begins making her checklist more specific, unchecking things she had been open to. She checked no to tattoos, kinky interest, piercings, baldness, short, etc. And then began deleting those profiles she was clearly repelled by. Men with receding hairline, frizzy androgenic alopecia hair, and those who wear a hat to hide their baldness.

MELODY RAE:

(click)

H-m-m-m...maybe...nah, too many tattoos.

(click)

Uh, nope, way too short.

(click)

(CONTINUED)

M-m-m-m...yes...wait. Piercings?! Where?

Oh, g-a-a-awd, no!

(click)

Sensitive, kind spirited, nice eyes...uh,

wait. No. Too sensitive. Ew.

(click)

Possible...sexy...uh, what? Who in the

world drinks hard liquor for breakfast? And

why would you advertise your alcoholism as

a veritable strength? Strange. Buh-bye.

REVEAL:
Clock spinning by as two hours pass.

MELODY RAE:

(coffee mug in one hand and

reading on the computer)

Can you fill the emptiness in my heart?

(beat)

No, I can’t. No one can. Why would anyone

be drawn to someone who is empty to begin

with? Argh!

Melody Rae’s expression changes as she hears a ding in her inbox from a potential mate. She sets her wine down. She decides to first review his profile before opening his message.

MELODY RAE:

Nice hair. Ten years older, but that’s not

a deal breaker. No kids. Not wanting any.

Okay. That works for me. Kyle Ray Spears. I

like the sound of that. Hm.

She opens the inbox message from Kyle.

Hi, I’m a youthful (only child) and an independently wealthy entrepreneur from Mississippi with a weakness

for redheads...and you? —Kyle Ray

She types:

Hi, I’m the youngest of six (only girl) and an independently impoverished dog groomer from Oregon with a weakness for red wine. —Melody Rae

A ding in her inbox is heard minutes after she sent her response. It’s four pages long. She prints it out, takes the copies to her kitchen, pours more coffee, sits, and reads it with caution.

REVEAL:
SENTENCES FROM KYLE’S MESSAGE POP OFF THE PAGE:

I’m from Jackson Mississippi.

My parents are the ones who are affluent, not me.

I am their only child, so as one would expect they lavish

money on me.

If I don’t want to work, I don’t have to.

I have an affinity for the outdoors.

One of my hobbies is renovating a bungalow in McCloud—as a hobby.

I’ve performed as a stand-up comic.

I’m a skilled skier and an avid fly fisherman.

I’ve been recently accepted into law school at UC Davis School of Law.

MELODY RAE:

Jeez! Busy guy. Is this guy for real? I

mean, he sounds too good to be true, or

seriously bipolar.

(looking at her devoted puppy)

I don’t know, Oreo. What do you think? I

just don’t know. Could be kind of nice to

date someone who has the financial means to

support me instead of the other way around.

(beat)

Fine, you convinced me. I’ll message him

back. But if he turns out to be a psycho

it’s all on you.

REVEAL:
Different times and days, Melody Rae is e-mailing back and forth with Kyle. Two weeks go by.

SUPERIMPOSE:
RENO NEVADA

August 12, 2000

INT. SILVER LEGACY CASINO - SERAGLIO’S BLUES CAFÉ – EVENING

Melody Rae strolls through the main floor lobby, past the indoor strip mall of specialty shops: brunch cafes, coffee houses, cocktail lounges, an oyster bar, clothing boutiques, and stores full of knick-knack paraphernalia and touristy trinkets. Directly after stepping off the bottom of the escalator and onto the casino floor, she sees Kyle. The moment is awkward because there isn’t instant chemistry. Kyle has a conservative appearance wearing a posh, dark blue Armani suit and tie and brandishing an exceedingly proper, benevolent, and calm demeanor. They hug.

KYLE:

You are even prettier in person.

Melody Rae smiles. He puts his hand to the small of her back and leads her gently into Seraglio’s Blues Café. He

pulls out her chair and orders them both a glass of

exorbitantly expensive red wine valuing over eight hundred

dollars. Her mouth drops open. The dulcet tones of a female folk singer singing Melanie Safka’s Brand New Key can be heard amidst the crowd.

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