She has two brothers, Frank Jr. She worked as a management trainee for Kmart in but quit after a few months and entered a beauty pageant. She won Miss Pacific Coast in and left the beauty pageant after the win. She has lived in California since
|Published (Last):||21 December 2013|
|PDF File Size:||1.20 Mb|
|ePub File Size:||20.33 Mb|
|Price:||Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]|
ERIN off No. I have kids. Learned a lot right there. I mean what is it - you stick a giant Q-tip down their throat and wait. Or a urine analysis, with that dipstick that tells you whether or not the white count is high He nods. How to describe her?
A beauty queen would come to mind - which, in fact, she was. Tall in a mini skirt, legs crossed, tight top, beautiful - but clearly from a social class and geographic orientation whose standards for displaying beauty are not based on subtlety.
I fell madly in love with geology. ERIN I learned how to read maps. I love maps. Did you know our present system for map- making dates back to the ancient Greeks in like the third century B. But I lost that job because my son came down with the Chicken Pox and temperature and my ex-husband was useless, so.. But what I want to tell you is I, uh..
I had always wanted to go to medical school. That was my first interest really Jaffe stares at her. ERIN beat, looks around This is a really nice office.
Jaffe looks down at her resume, trying to figure a polite route. No pedestrians, just parked cars. Erin is finishing a cigarette. Her face has fallen -- the enthusiasm and spirit she showed in the interview are now replaced by a desperate type of concern. She takes a final puff, puts the cigarette out and walks to her car. ERIN Fuck. Like Kansas corn fields swaying in the breeze. When she picks them up, a fingernail snags on the pavement.
She tends to the nail as she opens her car door and gets in. And stops. Morning, Mr. How you doing today? His avuncular presence masks a savvy legal mind, and his somewhat rumpled appearance indicates a disinterest in pretense. ED Fine. ED No, I was out. I taped it. Ed peers into his office. Standing in the middle of the room is Erin, in a teensy, leopard-print mini-dress. As she jiggles a spike-heeled foot, everything about her shimmies gloriously. Except her head, which is held in place by a neck brace.
ED Remind me. Car accident. Not her fault, she says. ED Erin -- hi. Sorry you had to wait. Here, sit down, sit down. He clears a stack of papers off a chair, places down a mug of coffee. ERIN Thanks a lot. Ed gives her a look of pro-forma sympathy. ED sits Jesus, you poor thing. Did anyone ask if you want some coffee? ERIN Yeah. ED Great. Well, listen ERIN I was pulling out real slow, and out of nowhere, his Jaguar comes racing around the corner like a bat outta hell A frigging Norman Rockwell painting.
Just wanna take good care of my kids. You know? ED oh so moved Yeah. I know. Is your ex-husband helping out? ERIN Which one? Erin looks over at the jury. The personification of conservative family values. Oh, shit. Erin sees a juror staring in judgment at her short hem. Erin gives it a tug, pulling it down a stitch. No doubt. Erin sees a few jurors share dubious glances. Erin sees jurors nodding almost imperceptibly in agreement. ERIN What? Hey -- he hit me. Ed trails. Open and shut?
Open and fucking shut? ED Which is exactly the kind of language that lost the case. ERIN Oh, please, it was long over by then. ED notices her ranting is starting to draw attention. You want something to eat? ERIN You want to feed my kids too!? Fuck settle down! I got seventy-four dollars to my name! ERIN Do they actually teach lawyers how to apologize - because you all suck at it.
Erin turns away from him and heads for the stairway. The Hyundai with a bashed-in side pulls up to the curb. Erin gets out, takes the mail from her mailbox, then heads over to the equally grim house next door and rings the bell. This is MRS. She hands Erin the baby. Erin avoids the question by focusing on her baby. ERIN Hi, sweetie. Were you a good girl? Where are Matt and Katie? The truth is too depressing to share. I sat with her in the steam to loosen it up.
ERIN stunned Next week? Now I can help my daughter take care of my grandkids. Now you have money, you can find a good baby-sitter, huh? Not the old lady next door. Oh, God. It crunches under her sole.
Erin Brockovich Script