Opening the Door

I was sitting in Kerbey Lane Cafe on Guadalupe on a recent Thursday, having lunch with my brother when a man came up to me and asked if I was an actor. I said no, but then he asked if I was interested in being in his film. He said I have "the perfect face".

Naturally I was flattered by his request, and just a bit skeptical, since I had no idea what kind of film he had in mind.  Curiously I didn't even ask.  What I did ask, to his surprise, was whether or not he would have picked Stephen, had we been sitting in opposite seats, since I have the idea that we look so much alike, but he averred that I was his choice.  

The director, a young man whom I'll call JP, told me he was an MFA film student at UT and this was going to a short film for a class he was taking.  He seemed nice enough and I was just egotistical enough to think that I could pull something like this off, so I said yes, I'd give it a try.  He was pleased and offered me a notebook in which I wrote my email address.  He said thanks, we shook hands and that was that.  I had no idea what to expect.  To be honest, I was excited and flattered, but really didn't think it would come to anything.

Super Bowl Sunday 2013

It is Super Bowl Sunday, about four o'clock in the afternoon.  Kickoff is at 5:30.

SCENE: Interior.  FRONT ROOM of Patrick's apartment.  Only 10 by 12 feet at the most, the back wall (opposite the front door) is almost completely covered in bookcases stuffed full of vinyl record albums.  An antique dresser is along the narrow wall of the room, (to the right of the door), covered in dusty nicknacks.  Light comes in from a window in the wall next to the door, and from a window in the KITCHEN, which is essentially the far end of the front room.  A sink and fridge are out of sight around the corner to the right.  In the center of the back wall is a door that leads to the back room, PW's BEDROOM.  The door opens.  PD enters.