INT. NIGHT. DINER.
ANNE
(A Vivacious brunette with black patent heels and red lipstick walks in, laughing.)
Syl, we’re both drinking something stronger than coffee, right?
SYLVIA
(Tall, but wearing flats, and long-ish hair in bangs.) If it has lemon in it, I’m fine with whatever you order.
ANNE
I thought so.
SYLVIA
(Motions to booth. ANNE nods her head.) Do we have anyone joining us?
ANNE
Do we need anyone else to join us?
SYLVIA
Is this to be a completion discussion? Pater/mater? I mean…
ANNE
– Pick my poison?
SYLVIA
(As drinks are served.) I think we already have. (Motioning to menu.) A slice of pie sound good?
ANNE
(Lighting a cigarette. Waves her head “no.”) Go ahead, though.
SYLVIA
Like I need it. Ted pinched my hip this morning.
ANNE
Pinch his back.
SYLVIA
The Hughes’ men don’t respond well to playful tweaks.
ANNE
And our bodies do?
Is this an out-take from “The Women?”
Such archly poised femmes in a bubble of a world, with their own bitter price to pay. (Smoking at the table has been outlawed here in Calif. so long that was the shocker,)