Sideways Page #25

As the cashier reaches for the magazine --

MILES:

NO, um, the new one.

INT. MOTEL ROOM BATHROOM - NIGHT

Miles is once again FLOSSING.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

POP! Miles opens a bottle of Pinot and pours himself a glass.

He carries it to bed, takes a nice big slug, lies down on

the bed and opens his magazine.

NOW SNEEZING ATOP THE BED -- ANGLE ON TOP OF HIM --

The Barely Legal face down on his chest, Miles awakens with

a start and looks at the clock-radio. He thinks a moment,

takes a deep breath, and bounds off the bed.

CLOSE ON A WATER-SAVER SHOWER HEAD --

as little needles of water come at us.

THROUGH THE BATHROOM DOOR --

Miles takes a nice hot SHOWER. But wait -- he has forgotten

to put the shower curtain inside the tub. A closer look

reveals a growing PUDDLE OF WATER on the floor.

EXT. THE HITCHING POST - NIGHT

Miles walks across the parking lot. He pauses before entering,

then forces himself to take the leap.

INT. THE HITCHING POST - NIGHT

Miles affects nonchalance as he searches briefly for Maya.

He continues on into the BAR.

GARY:

How's it hanging, Miles?

MILES:

You know me. I love it up here. How

about you?

GARY:

Busy night for a Tuesday. We had a

busload of retired folks in on a

wine tour. Usually they're not too

rowdy, but tonight there was something

going on. Full moon or something.

What can I get you?

MILES:

Highliner.

GARY:

Glass or bottle?

MILES:

(considers, then --)

Bottle.

GARY:

You got it.

MILES:

Say, is Maya working?

GARY:

Maya? Haven't seen her. I think she's

off tonight. Say, where's your buddy?

Miles just smiles.

WIDE --

Gary serves Miles, alone at the bar. Miles takes his first

drink.

MILES:

Oh, that's tasty.

EXT. HITCHING POST - NIGHT

It's closing time. The front door flies open, and Miles

staggers out sideways. Gary follows him out, concerned.

GARY:

You okay, Miles?

MILES:

I'm good.

Miles heads in the wrong direction at first, then realizes

his mistake and steers himself back toward the Windmill.

FADE OUT.

UNDER BLACK, A CARD --

WEDNESDAY:

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

The door bursts open, and Jack comes bounding in.

JACK:

Come on, dude. Let's go golfing! I

got us in at Alisal.

Miles comes to, very hungover.

MILES:

That's a public course.

(then --)

No Stephanie?

JACK:

She's working. I need a break anyway.

She's getting a little clingy.

(magnanimous)

This is our day!

EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY

WHACK! Jack TEES OFF with a manly athletic swing and shades

his eyes to watch the ball's trajectory.

JACK:

Crap.

Miles, disheveled and sullen, approaches the teebox, sticks

a tee in the ground and sets his ball.

JACK:

Did you ever got ahold of Maya

yesterday?

MILES:

Nope.

JACK:

She likes you, man. Stephanie'll

tell you.

MILES:

(preparing to swing)

Can you give me some room here?

JACK:

(stepping back)

Oh yeah. Sure.

Miles lifts his club.

JACK:

You know, in life you gotta strike

when the iron's hot.

MILES:

Thanks, Jack.

Miles refocuses and SWINGS just as Jack offers more helpful

advice.

JACK:

Don't whiff it.

WHACK! Despite the distraction, Miles manages to make a good,

long drive.

JACK:

Nice shot.

MILES:

You're an a**hole.

NOW ON THE FAIRWAY --

Jack is pouring two Dixie cups of wine as Miles prepares to

take his next swing.

JACK:

What about your agent? Hear anything

yet?

MILES:

Nope.

JACK:

What do you think's going on?

MILES:

Could be anything.

JACK:

Been checking your messages?

MILES:

Obsessively.

JACK:

Huh.

MILES:

They probably think my book is such

a piece of sh*t that it's not even

worthy of a response. I guess I'll

just have to learn how to kiss off

three years of my life.

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