We’ve made it to the big interview, Sirena’s chance to get the job that Zoe dreams for her, and maybe help her mom in the process.
THE SCENE
INT. Nutrivance Company Halls. Day.
SIRENA, hilariously overdressed, adjusts her blazer that’s one size too small as she walks past sparse walls of screens with talking heads and motivational graphics.
A RECEPTIONIST leads her to the belly of the beast.
RECEPTIONIST Right this way.
They turn a corner and walk right into a wall of steam. Sirena sniffs the air like a cartoon wolf, and sees a table piled high with free catering.
SIRENA Is that lasagna?
RECEPTIONIST Please keep up.
INT. Nutrivance -- Interview Room.
Sirena sits at the head of a conference table. She fidgets with her notes. Another screen features Roland half-heartedly reminding people to recycle.
The door swings open: ROLAND enters, flanked by ZOE.
ROLAND Yes, recycling, very important.
He shakes hands with Sirena.
ROLAND The promising young talent.
SIRENA That’s me!
ROLAND (a bit skeptical) So says Zoe’s program, anyway.
Zoe nods at him.
ZOE Shall we start?
As they sit down, Zoe forces a concerned cough and subtly gestures at a plate of lasagna resting on the table next to Sirena.
SIRENA Can this be a working lunch? That lasagna smells divine.
Zoe’s face curdles.
CUT TO:
Sirena mid-bite, sauce on her cheek, gesturing wildly with her fork.
SIRENA What sets me apart? I can get people to do things.
She glances at Zoe.
SIRENA Leadership. You know. And I’m pretty good with numbers. Sensors, data, thing-a-majigs—practically second nature.
ROLAND (impressed) They teach you that in school in...er...where was it?
SIRENA Ciudad Montes. Top-notch education.
She winks. Roland chuckles, clearly patronizing now.
ROLAND Well, I’ll be damned. Someone’s been doing their homework.
He thinks, and his smile fades a bit.
ROLAND But, don’t they teach you in meters down there?
SIRENA Uh, yea. Meters, centimeters--the whole deal.
ROLAND We use feet and yards here.
SIRENA Not a problem, I respect all sticks.
Roland furrows his brow.
ROLAND Say a field crew is spacing sensors every six yards. How long is that?
SIRENA In...meters?
ROLAND Feet.
SIRENA Just some quick math.
She grabs her notes and tries to do a calculation, but her pencil gets smudged by lasagna sauce that has smeared her notes.
Zoe tenses up. Sirena can feel her.
SIRENA What is a yard, three feet? Uh...eighteen.
Roland nods.
ROLAND OK.
Sirena exhales and smiles weakly. She notices sauce on her hands and wipes it on her notes.
Zoe tries to cut the awkwardness.
ZOE Sirena, why don’t you tell Roland about your journey here?
SIRENA My what?
ZOE Your background. How your immigrant experience has prepared you to excel at Nutrivance.
Sirena is puzzled, but Roland softens into a smile.
ROLAND Yea, I hear people like you have grit.
Sirena narrows her eyes as she looks at the lasagna, her notes, her dirty hands.
SIRENA I see what this is.
Roland and Zoe exchange nervous glances.
SIRENA You think I’m here to work myself to death and you want a little hardship backstory.
Roland’s smile tightens.
SIRENA Forget that. If you want me, we better set some terms.
ROLAND Terms...
SIRENA No unpaid overtime, for starters.
Roland’s bemused.
ROLAND That’s cute.
SIRENA I don’t know if she bothered to tell you, but I don’t need this job. My family’s rich. We floated here on a Disney Cruise.
ZOE No you didn’t.
She looks Sirena dead in the eye.
ZOE Sirena.
Defiant, Sirena stuffs another forkful of lasagna in her mouth and leans back on her chair.
SIRENA Mmm! (to Roland) Another term: I get first dibs on leftovers.
Roland looks incredulous. Zoe rubs her temples.
SCENE NOTES
This scene, which plays the story role of “mid-act explosion,” has been the crux of the story since the get-go. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s what birthed the story in the first place. Even before Sirena existed as a character in my mind, a few personal experiences made me envision some version of this scene:
Being directly asked during an interview with a non-profit to share my immigrant story. This was by another person of color who was sincerely trying to help me look good in the eyes of her boss. I didn’t bristle at it at the time, and don’t really bristle at it now, but for whatever reason that has stuck with me for years.
In interviews more generally, I’ve often had moments when I pick up on American interviewers feeling a little too enthused about me being Latino. It’s as if they’ve found a diamond in the rough, someone who can blend into corporate life AND willing to bust ass to prove they belong, certainly way more than the privileged and lazy natives.
Finally, there’s the collection of times that I’ve seen Hispanic ad agencies ham up their “struggle story” to impress white clients. Except that I know and they know…most of us in our industry (including me) were in the dominant class back home and came here with the red carpet rolled out, without struggling much at all.
Anyway, I’ve always fantasized about how funny it would be to say in an interview that I came into this country through “the big door” and stopped by Disney World on the way in. The great thing about screenwriting is that sometimes you can live out your fantasies.
The meters/feet thing is a late addition, and it’s too ridiculous to be realistic, which is why I like it.
It’s a cartoonish depiction of the other side of the corporate eagerness to bring model minorities into the workplace: the immediate, almost knee-jerk concern that bubbles up around “incompatibilities” and “culture fit.”
And it’s never, obviously, “how may the company shift its culture? How might your perspective help us improve how we do business?” Classic Frantz Fanon stuff: your face is welcome but not your thinking.
Antiwork content of the week: the most valuable jobs pay the least
Andrew Sage is one of the best thinkers around anarchism on YouTube, and recently made a condensed explanation of antiwork as an ideology, including summing up the anarchist thinking that originated it.
For many of you, this will serve as a refresher. For others, it might get you started on a journey similar to what led me to write this blog, even if (like me) you’re not sure you fully sign off on this way of thinking.
Either way, one minor detail jumped out at me from the video is the devastating, keen observation that the jobs with the most obvious benefits (for society) are the ones that pay the least. If that doesn’t say everything about the warped system of employment we live in, I don’t know what does.
These dispatches are part of a “Sirena’s Scenes,” a special BQE section with installments of our slacker film script accompanied by interesting pieces of antiwork-adjacent content.
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This came across as a central scene and I loved it, L. Vago. It's ridiculous and cringe and undoubtedly real all at once. The working lunch / lasagna part added to the effect. I loved it!