EXT. THE HOLLAND BAR – CHELSEA – DAY
Once located near the Holland tunnel, The Holland Bar was moved literally, along with its clientele to a transitional area off the West Side highway. This is where chic and down on your luck collide.
As Pro reaches for the door of the bar, the unofficial doorman opens one of the swinging doors and slaps Pro on the back.
BARFLY #1
Pro-fessional, what brings you here in the light of day?
PRO
Ah, couldn’t sleep. Decided to catch up on the news of the day…or make some.
BARFLY #1
That a’boy (quickly his expression changes) Gotta cig?
He hands what seems to be an empty pack, walks in.
PRO
Yeah, one’s left.
INT. THE HOLLAND BAR – INSIDE – NYC — DAY
The Holland bar is located in a long narrow building. Slightly on the dive side, it is dark and musty smelling in a stale beer kind of way. When you walk through the distinctive swinging doors of the Holland bar, think western saloon. Once inside, a long wooden bar contours the physicality of the building. A chipped mirror covers the back bar reflecting and refracting the colored liquor bottles staggered on mirror shelving giving the establishment a hint of ambiance and flare. There’s an abundance of ripped, vinyl padded stools around the bar area and four small tables and chairs against the other side of the wall. Old low lit candelabra fixtures with faux flame light bulbs supply the light while an up-to-date jukebox plays at the bartenders discretion.
The bartenders appearance mimics the clientele, mid-thirties, a few tatoos, muscular with a impending paunch.
Continue BARTENDER Look who’s here!
A few men turn, one man gets up and moves over a few spaces, Pro’s ‘un-ripped stool’is available.
BARTENDER (CONT’D) What’ll it be, my friend?
PRO
A Brooklyn lager to start. (scanning the room, ready to hold court) So, who’s here? (eyes adjusting to the dark) I don’t see any of my “reg-gies’.
Just then some guy (Joey) pulls up a stool next to Pro. Joey looks like a young shorter version of Howard Stern or Joey Ramone. Lanky, long hair, camouflage jacket. But if you cut the hair he would quickly turn nerdy. Pro has never met Joey although they have friends in common.
JOEY
Hey, I’m Joey, Craqz’friend.
Pro acknowledges, They exchange knuckles.
JOEY
(CONT’D) Craqz said you knew some shit about immigration.
PRO
I know more about luck than I do immigration.
JOEY
Yeah, well I’m getting married Saturday…
PRO
(raises eyes) Grats. Pro is slightly annoyed by the words immigration and marriage.
JOEY
It’s a green card thing. I hardly know this chick but its an opportunity to make some money.
Pro takes a big gulp of beer to get up to speed.
Continue
JOEY
(CONT’D) My question is…She’s a hottie and she’s desperate to get married because of the green card situation. I told her the price and that I want to fuck her once or … say for an hour. Anyway, she balked and said she was in the midst of treating a venereal disease. I think she’s bluffing and told her I’d take the necessary precautions. My question is this, do you think that’s the right approach, me calling her bluff or am I putting myself at risk regarding the vd situation?
PRO
This is an immigration question? (to the bartender) “Nother beer. (continues) Let me drop some immigration legalese…
Pro has a talent for turning b.s. into authoritative b.s.
PRO
(CONT’D) (gathers his thoughts) There are over 750 recent studies in England alone about the affects of STD’s and immigrants…
JOEY
(interrupting) Okay, but she’s like this awesome model type, probably fucking the director, D.P. or something. This is my wedding, man! I want something out of it. To get a piece of ass like that retail would cost me half of what she’s paying to do this perfunctory union.
Continue
PRO
(slams his second beer) If you really thinks she’s desperate for the ‘card’ ask for more money…forget the sex. That’s my opinion.
(moving on)
Pro (cont’d) How’d you meet Craqz?
Joey nods his head in agreement with Pro’s opinion on the matter.
JOEY
(notices Pro’s empty glass) Let me get you one.
JOEY
(CONT’D) (motions for another round) We met at a John Wayne Film—
PRO
(interrupting) His favorite drink was Sauza Commemorativo Tequila.
JOEY
–Festival, Stagecoach I believe.
Beers arrive.
PRO
Cheers to the Duke.
Clink go the mugs.
JOEY
Cheers.
PRO
You a movie buff?
JOEY
Yeah, you?
Continue
PRO
Huge Ronald Reagan fan, the most underrated actor alive. Ol’ Ronnie’s the quintessential American dream isn’t he?
Insert: We see a film clip of Ronald Reagan and Bonzo (monkey) fill the screen.
Pro’s voice continues to wax poetic on Ronald Reagan during the film clip. Suddenly we are interrupted by a new voice off screen.
Through the film clip the Holland Bar reemerges and Pro’s friend Leo walks through the Holland Bar’s swinging doors.
INT. THE HOLLAND BAR – DAY — CONTINUOUS
Leo looks like younger Mickey Rourke circa “Nine and a half weeks” or Rutger Hauer in “Blade Runner”. He’s about thirty years old, sandy blond hair, rugged complexion, handsome in a street sort of way. Dresses like he has just been in a fight wearing designer clothes.
LEO Hey. (looking at Pro) I thought you’d be here, what up?
PRO
Hanging out, talkin’film and shit.
LEO Yeah, well here’s some Vertov for you.
Insert: Picture of Dziga Vertov’s, early Russian avant-garde documentary filmmaker.
LEO (CONT’D) Remember that girl from the trance dance last week?
PRO
Valgal? I think that was the phoney name she gave me.
Continue
LEO (looking at Joey) No, umm…
PRO
He’s okay.
LEO …the one you were shamming an “ex’-capade with,…gropey, grindy, touchy-feely…
PRO
Oh, Merry, another fake name…she slid my hand up her dress then slapped me and said “some other time.”
LEO That’s the one, she’s up by the Met as we speak. She mentioned you…
PRO
Mentioned me?
JOEY
(pointing to another empty beer mug) Want another one?
PRO
Let’s get a pitcher… (to bartender) Another pitcher and a glass, thanks.
Bartender motions an acknowledgment
PRO
(CONT’D) (to Leo) What do you mean she mentioned me?
LEO I was going to the subway from the Impressionism show at the Met…
Continue
JOEY
(interrupting) How is that? Isn’t it closing soon? Pro gives Joey a “Shut the Fuck” up look
LEO …and she was sitting out in a sidewalk cafe, Crimea…? We both recognized each other, I stopped, exchanged pleasantries and she asked about you, that’s the mention.
PRO
Fuck, I didn’t give her my number. After the slap it seemed a little awkward.
Bartender pours three glasses and places the pitcher between them. Pro slams another beer… Sound of beer mug hitting the bar we…
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