EXT: A Place to Create — a children’s art school, clearly of the super-crunchy variety.
A WOMAN, early 40’s, disheveled, trots to the front door and enters.
CUT TO:
INT: A Place to Create. Several pre-school-aged children sit on a rug watching their TEACHER–dyed red hair, African-print apron, lilting voice–act out a story using handmade dolls. They are mesmerized. A handful of PARENTS sit against the wall. Some take pictures, others text. A few watch the class. One, a MAN, also in his 40’s, looks up when the WOMAN walks in. He nods at her and smiles. She sits down next to him and hands him a set of car keys.
WOMAN (whispering)
It’s parked right next to mine.
MAN (whispering too)
Thanks.
WOMAN
How’s it going? Sweet, right?
MAN
Yup. (takes out some car keys and hands them to her) Here.
She takes the keys and puts them in her purse. They listen to the teacher for a moment.
MAN (still whispering)
So…
WOMAN (smiling at the kids)
What?
MAN
I know you warned me, but —
WOMAN (turns to him)
What?
Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulls out a parking ticket and places it on her lap. She looks at it and exhales.
WOMAN
You didn’t.
MAN
I did.
WOMAN
How?
MAN
I forgot to plug. Sorry.
WOMAN
But I warned you!
MAN
I know.
WOMAN
They’re like vultures on this block. I told you!
MAN (steadily)
I know.
WOMAN
And still?
There is a pause. The MAN looks at her levelly.
MAN
At least it’s not a moving violation.
The woman leans back and widens her eyes at him.
WOMAN
Wow. You’re going to go there?
MAN
I’m just saying.
She purses her lips and nods. There’s another pause. In the background, the TEACHER stands up and gestures to the kids to join her.
WOMAN
You’ve gotta get to work.
MAN
Yeah. I’ll see ya.
The MAN kisses her and leaves. The WOMAN drops the parking ticket in her purse, sighs, and shakes her head. Around her, adorable children are rising to their feet and singing with the TEACHER:
CHILDREN AND TEACHER
Come follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow me!
Her three-year-old DAUGHTER skips over and takes the WOMAN’S hand.
DAUGHTER
Come on Mommy!
The WOMAN rises and, with the others in the room, circles the table. She waves her arms and sings.
WOMAN
Hands in the air, hands in the air, hands in the air and follow me!
As we ZOOM in on the WOMAN’S forced smile we:
FADE TO BLACK.
Aw, man. That blows.