Taxi Driver Page #5

11.

The SOUND of the feature drones in the background.

CONCESSION GIRL:

Kin I help ya?

Travis rests his elbow on the counter, looking at the Girl.

He is obviously trying to be friendly - no easy task for him.

God knows he needs a friend.

TRAVIS:

What is your name? My name is Travis.

CONCESSION GIRL:

Awh, come off it, Pal.

TRAVIS:

No, I'm serious, really...

CONCESSION GIRL:

Ya want me to call da boss? Huh?

That what you want?

CONCESSION GIRL:

No, no, it's alright. I'll have a

big Coca-Cola - without ice - and a

large buttered popcorn, and...

(pointing)

... some of them chocolate covered

malted milk balls... and ju-jukes,

a box. They last.

CONCESSION GIRL:

We don't have ju-jukes. We don't

have Coca-Cola. We only got Royal

Crown Cola.

TRAVIS:

That's fine.

CONCESSION GIRL:

That's a dollar forty-seven.

Travis lays two dollar bills on the counter.

INT. THEATRE AUDITORIUM

Slight TIMECUT to Travis sitting in theatre, drinking his

Royal Crown Cola, eating his popcorn and milk balls. His

eyes are fixed on the screen. A MALE VOICE emanates from the

screen:

MALE MOVIE VOICE (O.S.)

Come here, b*tch. I'm gonna split

you in half.

12.

Male Voice yields to Travis' monotone narration.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

Twelve hours of work and I still

cannot sleep. The days dwindle on

forever and do not end.

FADE TO:

EXT. CHARLES PALANTINE CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS

The Headquarters of the "New Yorkers for Charles Palantine

for President Committee", located at the corner of 50th

Street and Broadway, are festooned in traditional red, white

and blue banners, ribbons and signs.

One large sign proclaims "Palantine". Another sign reads

"Register for New York Primary, July 20.". The smiling

middle-aged face of Charles Palantine keeps watch over the

bustling pedestrians.

It is LATE AFTERNOON.

INSIDE HEADQUARTERS

A variety of YOUNG WORKERS joke and chatter as they labor

through stacks of papers. The room is pierced with the sound

of ringing phones.

Seen from a distance - the only way Travis can see them -

those are America's chosen youth: Healthy, energetic, well groomed,

attractive, all recruited from the bucolic fields

of Massachusetts and Connecticut.

CAMERA FAVORS BETSY, about 25, an extremely attractive woman

sitting at the reception desk between two phones and several

stacks of papers. Her attractions, however, are more than

skin deep. Beneath that Cover Girl facial there is a keen,

though highly specialized sensibility: Her eyes scan every

man who passes her desk as her mind computes his

desirability:
Political, intellectual, sexual, emotional,

material. Simple pose and status do not impress her; she

seeks out the extraordinary qualities in men. She is, in

other words, star-f***er of the highest order.

Betsy, putting down the phone, calls TOM, a lanky, amiable

and modishly long-haired campaign workder over to her desk:

BETSY:

Tom.

Tom is pleasant and good-looking, but lacks those special

qualities which interest Betsy. He gets nowhere with Betsy -

yet he keeps trying.

13.

Just another of those routine office flirtations which pass

the hours and free the fantasies.

Rate this script:4.1 / 16 votes