Two burned pieces of toast land on the floor. A server enters the kitchen. Imani Coppola, another server at the restaurant hits the button the stereo and turns on the music. She leans against the counter, bored. She sees a figurine of man riding a motorcycle.
She fantasizes riding a motorcycle down the street with some biker friends. A hot guy would stick his thumb out, hitching a ride. They would all stop. She would march up to him and toss him a helmet. Then, they would share a passionate kiss. Her biker friends would dance in the desert as they wait for her. He would take off with her.
Back at the restaurant, a wrinkled older lady exhales cigarette smoke in her face.
Next, she turns the picture of a space ship. She imagines herself in a black catsuit outfit with long braids, sitting on rotating platform as she flies through space. The aliens, grey, shirtless men would help her up and dance with her on the planet she discovered. She’ll be goddess, worshipping her until she got annoyed by it.
A fire erupts in the kitchen. She gasps as the cook tries to put it out with his hat. She pulls out the microphone and begins to sing on the counter. The cook strums a guitar. An older man turns around, wondering if his food is ever going to arrive.
She imagines herself on stage, with a logo and her name blinking in golden lights. She dances and fluffs her hair.
In the restaurant, she plays the violin and continues to dance on the counter. The other server returns from the kitchen and turns the music off. She pouts and saunters away.
As Imani Coppola thinks of things she’d rather be doing work than work, there is only one that matches the song: dancing on the stage with her band behind her, being the diva she was meant to be.
Coppola, with her take charge attitude, is unconvincing as a submissive server, dreaming of something better. Seeing her strut on the desert in a leopard print top and pants and grabbing a man’s hair as she kisses him seems closer to her personality. However, the dancing bikers undermine the toughness with each swing of their arms to the music. When they grab each other’s butts declines into parody.
The aliens in the newly discovered planet bow down to her and believe she is now their queen. But then she becomes the docile server, cutting the fantasy short as it’s beginning to gel.
She owns the stage in her fantasy. However, limiting her to the a counter undervalues her. Her charm overpowers the diner as she’s overpowering while a disinterested crowd rolls their eyes and ignores her.
Director: N/A Year: 1997