GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source

47.
Familiar with the car, he goes immediately to the trunk to
retrieve Eugene's collapsible wheelchair. Jerome tips the
valet - a credit card wiped through a device.
INT. MICHAEL'S DINNER CLUB. NIGHT.
The chic, elegant establishment inside belies its darkened
exterior. JEROME wheels EUGENE into a decadent dinner club
full of an odd assortment of people. They are immediately
greeted respectfully by MICHAEL, the owner and maitre d'.
Jerome and Eugene are obviously regulars.
MICHAEL
Good evening, gentlemen. Your
table is ready.
(referring to
Jerome's mission)
Not long now, sir. You'll be
upstairs before you know it.
We're going to miss you.
JEROME
Not as much as I'll miss your
Stroganoff. I'd like to take one
of your chefs with me.
INT. MICHAEL'S DINNER CLUB. NIGHT.
In a secluded booth JEROME and EUGENE toast from a bottle of
1999 vintage Bordeaux. Eugene drinks longer than Jerome.
Jerome dabs his mouth with a napkin. He fails to notice a
minute FLAKE OF SKIN dislodged from his chin. We follow the
flake as it comes to rest beneath the table.
LATER, Eugene and Jerome watch COUPLES dancing a samba on the
dance floor. A WAITER vacuums the table with a discreet,
handheld miniature vacuum while a WAITRESS clears the plates.
She accidentally drops a knife onto Eugene's leg.
WAITRESS
(aghast at the sight
of his lifeless legs)
I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?
EUGENE
(smiling, a trace of
bitterness)
Honey, if you'd hurt me, I'd be
cured.
Eugene, the worse for drink, gropes for the waitress's leg
but she easily avoids his clumsy pass.