(Unformatted and straight from the top)
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INT. - Monk's Diner - DAY
Jerry and George are lunching at their usual table at their usual cafe. Signaling that he is finished, Jerry tosses a paper napkin onto his plate.
Jerry : That was good.
George : It was adequate.
Jerry : But not quite up to your high standards?
George : Jerry, I am leading the fight against the grade inflation because, if crap was average and good was great, then soon you'll have an average schlub like me introducing himself as a male model.
Jerry : That would indeed be a gross exaggeration.
The waitress comes over and drops off their check.
Waitress : How was your meal, guys?
Jerry : Absolutely fabulous.
George : Four stars.
Jerry : Michelin quality.
George : My compliments to the chef.
The waitress leaves.
Jerry : So, much like the Federal Reserve, your anti-inflationary stance was of a temporary nature?
George : We should have told her it was like microwaving a frozen dinner. Now she'll be expecting a tip commensurate with our presumed dining experience.
Jerry : Here's a worry free solution - give her three bucks and call it a day.
George : Three bucks? Three bucks? For what, the sandwich and the fries?
Jerry: And for the personal service to have them promptly delivered to our table.
George : It's a ten foot walk.
Jerry : What about all those Pepsi refills? Quenching your thirst on a warm afternoon can require a herculean effort.
George : Come on, she slides the glass into the Pepsi machine, presses the lever and the beverage comes pouring out. She's not mixing the original syrup formula in a laboratory. A trained monkey could do what she does.
A very attractive young woman (Katherine) sitting at a table behind George turns to them. She has been eavesdropping on their conversation all along.
Katherine : You're so right. Filling up a soda glass is like punching the elevator keys. Whoever is standing next to the control panel always asks, "What floor? What floor?". You don't shower them with cash. You say, "Thank you", and move on.
George half-turns to her.
George : Exactly right. The whole universe is automated these days - press this, double-click on that. A waitress basically gets paid for not spitting into your plate.
Jerry : Holding in her saliva does entitle her to a tidy sum.
Woman laughs and gets up off her table.
Katherine : Oh, you crazy New Yorkers surely have some interesting theories on tipping.
George : Nah, that's just me. When it comes to theories, I am Albert Einstein.
Katherine : Hi, Albert. I am Katherine.
Jerry hand waves a friendly hello.
Jerry : Stephen Hawking here.
Katherine returns the wave and the smile.
George : You're not from around here, are you?
Katherine : I am in town on a modeling assignment. There's a photo studio across the street.
Jerry : Ah, modeling - an industry made of airbrushed glamor and latent metrosexuality.
Katherine : Those preening pretty boys make me want to puke. When it comes to men, I am yearning for somebody plain and undistinguished, somebody who has no ambitions of ever being anyone's arm candy.
Jerry : You're looking for an average schlub.
Katherine : The less average, the better.
George : Someone only a step up from a trained monkey?
Katherine : Maybe even a step down.
She looks at George wistfully. He looks back at her blithely.
George : Ya, well. Good luck with that search, toots.
Jerry kicks George under the table and points toward Katherine, who's about to walk out of the door. George snaps out of it and yells after her.
George: If feeling inadequate one day and having the delusions of grandeur the next qualifies as average, I just might be your type.
Katherine : Awesome. 555-1822. I have the rest of the week to myself.
He hurriedly writes down the number on one of the dollar bills laying on the table. The waitress returns to pick up the check and she's none too happy.
Waitress : I overheard that crap you were saying about the trained monkey. Maybe, the next time I will spit into your plate.
Jerry opens up his wallet and peels off a few bills.
Jerry : Look, we're all civilized people here. Here's a dollar for not spitting, a dollar for not sneezing and five bucks for keeping all the other bodily fluids within the confines of your physical self while you're handling our food.
George drops loose change on the table.
George : And fifty cents from me for wearing a hair net and clipping your toe nails.
Waitress: What if I changed into a hazmat suit?
Jerry: Then we couldn't afford you.
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INT. - Monk's Diner - DAY
Jerry and George are lunching at their usual table at their usual cafe. Signaling that he is finished, Jerry tosses a paper napkin onto his plate.
Jerry : That was good.
George : It was adequate.
Jerry : But not quite up to your high standards?
George : Jerry, I am leading the fight against the grade inflation because, if crap was average and good was great, then soon you'll have an average schlub like me introducing himself as a male model.
Jerry : That would indeed be a gross exaggeration.
The waitress comes over and drops off their check.
Waitress : How was your meal, guys?
Jerry : Absolutely fabulous.
George : Four stars.
Jerry : Michelin quality.
George : My compliments to the chef.
The waitress leaves.
Jerry : So, much like the Federal Reserve, your anti-inflationary stance was of a temporary nature?
George : We should have told her it was like microwaving a frozen dinner. Now she'll be expecting a tip commensurate with our presumed dining experience.
Jerry : Here's a worry free solution - give her three bucks and call it a day.
George : Three bucks? Three bucks? For what, the sandwich and the fries?
Jerry: And for the personal service to have them promptly delivered to our table.
George : It's a ten foot walk.
Jerry : What about all those Pepsi refills? Quenching your thirst on a warm afternoon can require a herculean effort.
George : Come on, she slides the glass into the Pepsi machine, presses the lever and the beverage comes pouring out. She's not mixing the original syrup formula in a laboratory. A trained monkey could do what she does.
A very attractive young woman (Katherine) sitting at a table behind George turns to them. She has been eavesdropping on their conversation all along.
Katherine : You're so right. Filling up a soda glass is like punching the elevator keys. Whoever is standing next to the control panel always asks, "What floor? What floor?". You don't shower them with cash. You say, "Thank you", and move on.
George half-turns to her.
George : Exactly right. The whole universe is automated these days - press this, double-click on that. A waitress basically gets paid for not spitting into your plate.
Jerry : Holding in her saliva does entitle her to a tidy sum.
Woman laughs and gets up off her table.
Katherine : Oh, you crazy New Yorkers surely have some interesting theories on tipping.
George : Nah, that's just me. When it comes to theories, I am Albert Einstein.
Katherine : Hi, Albert. I am Katherine.
Jerry hand waves a friendly hello.
Jerry : Stephen Hawking here.
Katherine returns the wave and the smile.
George : You're not from around here, are you?
Katherine : I am in town on a modeling assignment. There's a photo studio across the street.
Jerry : Ah, modeling - an industry made of airbrushed glamor and latent metrosexuality.
Katherine : Those preening pretty boys make me want to puke. When it comes to men, I am yearning for somebody plain and undistinguished, somebody who has no ambitions of ever being anyone's arm candy.
Jerry : You're looking for an average schlub.
Katherine : The less average, the better.
George : Someone only a step up from a trained monkey?
Katherine : Maybe even a step down.
She looks at George wistfully. He looks back at her blithely.
George : Ya, well. Good luck with that search, toots.
Jerry kicks George under the table and points toward Katherine, who's about to walk out of the door. George snaps out of it and yells after her.
George: If feeling inadequate one day and having the delusions of grandeur the next qualifies as average, I just might be your type.
Katherine : Awesome. 555-1822. I have the rest of the week to myself.
He hurriedly writes down the number on one of the dollar bills laying on the table. The waitress returns to pick up the check and she's none too happy.
Waitress : I overheard that crap you were saying about the trained monkey. Maybe, the next time I will spit into your plate.
Jerry opens up his wallet and peels off a few bills.
Jerry : Look, we're all civilized people here. Here's a dollar for not spitting, a dollar for not sneezing and five bucks for keeping all the other bodily fluids within the confines of your physical self while you're handling our food.
George drops loose change on the table.
George : And fifty cents from me for wearing a hair net and clipping your toe nails.
Waitress: What if I changed into a hazmat suit?
Jerry: Then we couldn't afford you.