INT. 1 CALIFORNIA HEADING DOWNTOWN. 10 AM.
steve a nicely dressed writer in his very early twenties, sits on a half-empty bus, reading his book.
the bus comes to a stop. a very old chinese woman, possibly 932 years old, ambles onto the bus.
she walks towards steve and stands above him, purposefully leaning into his personal space. steve slowly lifts his eyes from his book to her face.
STEVE: can i help you?
OLD CHINESE WOMAN: please?
STEVE: excuse me?
OLD CHINESE WOMAN: i want to sit in your seat.
steve looks to his right. there are two empty seats next to him. they are clean. there's no reason why she shouldn't sit in them. he looks back at her.
STEVE: what's wrong with these seats?
OLD CHINESE WOMAN: can i please sit in your seat?
she's old and she asked nicely, so steve slowly slides over to the next seat, and she slowly sits down. he looks at her again and grabs her attention.
STEVE: what was wrong with these seats?
she ignores him.
forget it, steve. it's chinatown.