tracks

INT. SUBWAY CAR -- NIGHT

A WELL-DRESSED PANHANDLER addresses the packed tram car. In his late-30s or mid-40s, he is surprisingly well-groomed for a beggar. He hasn't shaved in a couple of days, however, and his voice is a little scratchy.

WELL-DRESSED PANHANDLER
(loudly, to everyone)

Before I get started I just want to say that I'm not tryin' to bother nobody, but please hear me out. This is embarassing, degrading, demoralizing, but when you hear what it is that I have to say . . . you'll understand why I'm doin' it.

Four months ago, I moved here with my newborn son, Nathan, and my wife from Vermont. I just graduated from a six-week security guard training course, which I graduated from at the top of my class, and I'm here tonight asking for your help.

I have to be in Jamaica tomorrow morning at 12:00 with $400 to start my new job, and I have $383 so far. What I'm asking you folks here is that you help me with this last $17.

He turns to address the back half of the car as he goes on.

WELL-DRESSED PANHANDLER
(cont.)

$17, surely you can help with anything. I'm missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime because of $17. Anything you can do will help me and my son out, please.

The man stops talking and stands still, arms out from his hips expectantly, like a king who's just asked his servants for the baubles around their necks.

CLOSE ON THE MAN'S ANKLES shows track marks peering out from the lip of his white socks.