No way. Scorpio.
EDDIE: / No.
TROY: Or Max.
(Max enters.)
MAX: What am I doing?
TROY: You’re cleaning the bathrooms from now on.
MAX: / The fuck I am.
ISABELLE: Sagittarius.
EDDIE: Isabelle—
ISABELLE: I’m right aren’t I?!
EDDIE: No.
TROY: Why do I have to do it every time I close?!
EDDIE: Okay, okay, we’ll figure out a schedule at staff lunch on Thursday.
ISABELLE: I don’t even use our bathrooms, I use the ones in the Men’s Warehouse.
TROY: Are they nice?
ISABELLE: They are so fucking nice.
MAX: Hey Eddie, table eight left half a carafe.
EDDIE: / Yeah okay.
TROY (To Isabelle): So what’s my sign?
(Max exits.)
ISABELLE: Douchebag.
TROY: Nah I think that’d be the guy who dropped you off this morning.
ISABELLE: His name is Alex and he’s younger and better looking than you, so.
TROY: You’re saying that guy is better looking than me?
ISABELLE (To Eddie): Eddie you’ve seen Alex, tell him.
(Eddie struggles to add up the receipts while talking.)
EDDIE: Oh I don’t know, I just—
ISABELLE: Oh Eddie, I meant to tell you, some of the track lighting over table twelve is broken or something.
TROY: So change the bulbs.
ISABELLE: I’m sorry, was I talking to you?
(Max reenters with a half-full carafe of wine and four glasses. He sets them down and begins to pour everyone a glass.)
TROY: Eddie, can we get rid of the Famiglia Week stuff?
EDDIE: Just—give it a few days.
TROY: I love my family, but I don’t need them at work.
ISABELLE: I wanted to kill myself today. Sometimes I’m glad that my parents are dead.
MAX: Jesus.
ISABELLE: I’m just kidding, calm down.
TROY: When I was still working at the paper mill we had a bring-your-daughter-to-work day. Becky almost lost her damn hand.
MAX: Why didn’t you guys move after the mill closed? Everyone I knew who worked there is in Boise or Oregon now.
TROY: Tammy didn’t want to make Becky switch schools. And so, I’m a fucking waiter.
(Max is about to pour Eddie a glass. Eddie waves him away.)
EDDIE: Oh, no, thanks.
MAX: C’mon buddy, long day.
EDDIE: Maybe—maybe in a bit, I’m just / trying to—
ISABELLE (To Troy): Hey what’s with your daughter?
TROY: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
(Max mimes throwing up on the table. Isabelle laughs.)
Very funny, assholes.
EDDIE: GUYS. PLEASE.
(Silence. They stare at Eddie, shocked at the outburst.)
Sorry. I’m—sorry.
(Pause.)
ISABELLE: You okay?
EDDIE: I’m fine, I—. (Pause) I lost count, I just—. I got frustrated, I’m sorry.
MAX: I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you raise your voice.
EDDIE: Am I a terrible boss now?
TROY: You kidding? My last job at the Best Buy, my supervisor used to pour coffee in my backpack. You can shout once in a while, it’s fine.
ISABELLE: Oh my God I worked there three years ago.
TROY: I hated it.
ISABELLE: Yeah I know. Five percent employee discount?
(Max tries again to pour Eddie some wine.)
EDDIE: No, really, I’m fine.
MAX: C’mon, it’s a special occasion.
TROY: What, you got some new hair gel?
MAX: No, Eddie hired me six months ago today.
EDDIE: Oh. Wow, it’s really been that long?
MAX: Yep.
TROY: I’ve been here eight years, you never hear me making a big deal out of it.
MAX: Anyway, Eddie, thanks. This was the only place in town that was willing to hire me.
EDDIE: Oh I don’t believe that.
MAX: Seriously. I interviewed everywhere, the moment I said anything about drug court, they just fucking—. Anyway thanks for giving me a chance.
EDDIE: Well, we’re lucky to have you. Really.
MAX: Thanks. (Pause) So, okay—maybe this is totally stupid of me, but—I thought maybe we could all— . . .
(Max reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag of weed and a pipe.)
ISABELLE: Hello.
EDDIE: Wait, what / is—?
MAX: It’s just pot.
TROY: Six months working here and you want some big party?
EDDIE: Why do you / have that?
MAX: I know it’s stupid, but it helps me stay off the other stuff.
EDDIE: That doesn’t seem like a good idea to me?
MAX:
