What?

- Johnny-boy.
J-boy.
Psst!
Sweets.
What are you doing, Erik?
- The door was open.
- Is there a girl in here?
- I don't see one.
The bathroom.
- Is anyone in the bathroom?
- She left.
What a good girl.
I love it when they leave.
What's the matter with you?
- I found a condom.
- You know, you do this shit
to yourself, Erik.
- What do you mean?
How do I do this shit?
- What the hell are you doing
driving all the way out there?
- It's like she wanted me
to see it, Johnny.
- Well, maybe she did.
So what the hell
are you doing?
- I couldn't get in touch
with her.
- So you drive 400 miles
at 2:00 in the morning?
- Yeah.
I wasn't gonna be able to sleep.
- You should have been here
with us, okay?
You know how many
beautiful women were here?
It was like a bad Fellini movie.
And what are you doing?
You're doing 100 miles an hour
on the 101 like a stalker
with some emo record on repeat
for, like, five hours.
Meanwhile, the girl broke up
with you six weeks ago.
- But we've been talking.
- Stop.
No.
You've been talking.
She's been hanging up the phone.
Okay?
- I'm going home.
- No, you're not going home.
You're gonna listen to me,
all right?
I love you, clearly more
than Jessica does.
- Jesus Christ.
- What do you want?
You want the stuff?
Here's the stuff.
No pulling punches.
I love you.
Stop with this girl.
This is what happens.
Inevitably, this is
what happens, bottom line.
Example: You drive
a million miles
at 2:00 in the morning,
and what do you get?
You get true love?
Fuck, no.
You get a used condom
laying in the middle
of the fucking living room.
Come on.
- Why do you
have to be so brutal?
- Then don't ask me, okay?
You know that
the Federal Reserve on Wednesday
cut a key interest rate
by a quarter of a percentage
point to 2%?
- Yeah, tune in Berlin, okay?
I need some help here, man.
- Why do you even ask me?
Seriously.
- You write books about love.
- Hmm.
- You're such a contradiction.
- Don't psychoanalyze me.
Okay?
This is about you.
You are the topic.
And I write about love
as I see it,
a fantasy, a fable.
It's called fiction
for a reason.
It doesn't really exist.
Thank you, love.
- You're welcome, Mr. Ryan.
- You are unbelievable.
- Yeah, you're unbelievable.
Pick up that glass.
- What?
- Pick up that glass.
What?
- Toast.
Tonight we celebrate:
My book and the next chapter
of your life.
- Oh.
- The happy and single period.
- To Johnny-boy.
Yay, Johnny-boy.
If you don't mind,
I'd like to say a few words.
My name is Dane Harrington,
for those of you
who may not know me.
- Speech, Dane!
- Absolutely.
I'd just like
to invite my friend up.
If you'd be so kind,
Mr. Ryan.
Please?
Come here.
Ladies and gentlemen,
The kid.
- Get on with it already.
- Okay.
So there we were.
It was, like, 15 years ago.
It's two high school dropouts,
nowhere to go,
nothing to do,
countless arrests,
many institutions,
in and out of juvenile hall,
and soon to graduate.
And then one day,
everything changed.
Just stopped.
No more.
"I'm gonna be a writer,"
he says.
"No more fights.
No more drugs and alcohol.
I'm gonna write."
"What are you gonna
write about?" I say.
"Women."
And off he went.
Research.
Here we are,
ten years later,
book number three.
He works fast.
It's not so bad.
My man, my best friend,
Johnny-boy Ryan.
Proud of you.
This is my best friend!
Give it up!
Come on!
Oh!
- Johnny, Johnny.
Have you met the lovely,
amazing, beautiful, sexy
Kelly Lynch?
- I have not,
but it is a great pleasure.
- Your book is magnificent.
Really.
I think it's your best yet.
It's a best-seller for sure.
- Well, let's just hope
the reviewers feel the same way.
- They will.
- What do they know, anyway?
- That being said, I don't care
what they say either.
Yes, you do.
- Don't be such an agent.
You make me sick.
- Kelly.
- He's made me sick.
I have to go now.
- This is what
I have to deal with.
- Will I see you later?
- Honey, not in front
of the kid.
- I had a lovely evening.
Thank you very much.
- Pleasure to meet you.
- You too.
- Mm.
- You hitting that?
- I might be.
- You son of a bitch.
I've been wanting to crush that
since the eighth grade.
- Well, jeez, why didn't you
say something?
Three's company.
- Oh, that's cute.
I just threw up in my mouth
a little bit.
- Listen,
I better catch up,
make sure the husband's
not in town this weekend.
- Hey, careful.
- Reviews come out Tuesday.
Lunch and celebrate?
- I'll call you tomorrow.
- Love you.
Hold that for me.
- Okay.
- I love the book.
- Enjoy.
Easy on the sauce, both of you,
all right?
- Hey!
- Johnny!
Whoa.
How does it feel
to be the man?
- Balt.
- Face looks a little round.
You put on some weight?
How are you?
- Good.
How are you?
Look, can I be honest with you?
- Please.
- Everybody here
is kissing your ass.
It's shit.
You're shit.
The book is shit.
I'm shit.
It's all fucking shit.
- All right.
It's good to see you.
- Yeah, you too.
- Always good.
- Hey, good game, man.
- Oh.
All right.
Motherfucker.
- Please.
- We have a red wine
and a cosmopolitan.
- She'll have a cosmo.
- Excuse me.
Sorry.
But do you mind if I borrow
the lady for a second?
- Borrow me?
What?
Am I a lighter?
- Stop it.
- Do you need a drink?
- You know I don't drink.
- Then what can I help you with?
- For two weeks now,
I've not stopped
relentlessly flirting with you,
so I would like some credit.
- You want credit?
- Yeah, and some appreciation.
- Really?
- Yeah, the effort,
the will not to quit,
the undying appreciation
of your beauty.
So if nothing else, one drink.
One drink alone.
I-I mean,
I think I deserve it.
- I have to get back to work.
- Uh-uh-uh.
Look at me.
What time?
- 2:15.
One drink.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
Get back to work.
Come on.
- Oh, hey.
- There's the kid.
- Mingled out?
- Yes, ma'am.
- Mm.
- Look at her.
- What?
You got that?
- Yep, two weeks.
- Look at the seat on her.
Nice.
What?
I find it to be disgusting,
but him,
he likes that sort of thing.
- I was talking to her earlier,
Johnny,
and she seems
like a very nice girl.
- God, I hope that's not true.
- No, she is.
- Yeah, well,
don't start, okay?
- What did I say?
- You didn't say anything.
- No, no, what?
Go ahead.
Say it, Chris.
- Don't start, please,
the both of you.
- He's asking me a question,
Dane.
- I'm asking her
a question, Dane.
Go ahead.
- You're 30 years old.
- Yeah.
- Yeah, that's
an unnecessary statement.
We all know this to be true.
- I'm 30 years old.
- And she,
from what I gathered,
seemed to be a very nice girl.
- Well, from what
very little you gathered.
I mean, you two weren't
in cheer together, were you?
- True, but I find myself to be
a great judge of character.
- I find you to be that as well.
- So my question-
my point is this.
Why not get her phone number?
Call her.
Take her out to dinner.
Entertain the possibility
of spending more than an evening
in your cave.
- Honey...
- It's fine.
- Sorry, your room.
- Are you done?
- Are you going to answer
my question?
- In detail.
- Okay, great.
- But first,
if she's such a nice girl,
then what the hell is she doing
coming to my room
at 2:30 in the morning?
- Check.
- Because you're charming,
and she probably
wants to hang out with you.
- And play chess at 3:00 a. M?
- Maybe.
- Maybe not.
- That's not the point, anyway.
- No, the point is,
this is not about her;
this is about me.
You say nice girl.
I say, for what?
Pain? Tears?
Marriage? Divorce?
It's not my thing.
You two, on the other hand,
found something
very special.
- No, that's not what you said.
- Just shut up
and go back to sleep, okay?
Unprecedented and special.
I'm just saying,
I don't think it's on sale.
And even if it was,
I'm not buying.
- But that's all gonna change.
- You are so wrong.
- And when it does,
it's gonna be too late.
- Hey, hey, that's cruel.
That's unfair.
- Whatever.
- And for the record,
she's a nice girl.
And after
she's had her drink-
which I'm sure you assured her
was all you wanted her to have-
she's gonna leave.
- You wanna bet?
- Yes.
- What?
- Make it a 50.
- What do you know?
- She's a nice Christian girl.
- Ha!
Really?
Okay, make it $100.
- Bet.
- You, come with me.
Get up.
Come on.
Put that down.
You don't need that ever again.
Come on.
Really?
- Careful.
- Ow.
- Unacceptable.
- Christian...
- Gonna find you
some happiness.
- Bye, Erik.
- You're placing bets on
my friend getting laid or not?
What's the matter with you?
- He's not getting laid.
- You're a filthy,
naughty girl.
- You are a filthy,
naughty boy.
- Is that right?
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
- I don't want to.
Johnny, I don't want this.
- Listen.
You are in no condition
to know what it is
you want right now.
- Yuh-huh.
I want a drink.
- All right,
look at the brunette,
standing there all alone
just waiting for you.
- Oh, no, that's a Republican.
- Fucking conservative.
Okay, look at the two blondes.
Look at 'em.
- Those are lesbians.
- They are not lesbians.
Okay, we move on.
Look around.
There's got to be something
you like.
Come on.
- I want to get a drink.
- Would you stop with the drink?
Stop it.
Look.
What do we got?
What do we have?
- Uh, I'm gonna
go get a drink now, okay?
- Okay, yeah, go ahead.
I'll be down there in a minute.
- Really?
- Yeah, go ahead.
- All right.
- Down there in a minute.
- Loved the book.
- Okay, we can do the hiking
that I already talked about.
Then we'll just
catch a flick before.
- Yeah, that'll be good.
- I'll bring the dogs,
and, okay,
hopefully it's nice.
Hi.
- Hello.
- I think I'm gonna use
the little girls' room.
- Yeah.
I'll come with you, I think.
- Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.
- Excuse me?
- Well, I just wanted to ask you
a couple questions.
- Okay.
And you are?
- I'm Johnny.
Johnny Ryan.
- And?
- Oh, um, no,
I just thought that, um...
- What?
You thought what?
- Well, this is sort of
my party.
- Oh, okay.
- I mean, it's not really
my party, per se.
The party is for me, so...
- Uh-huh.
- I'm sorry.
You are, um...
- Staying at the hotel.
- Right.
Right.
Makes sense.
- I'm gonna use the bathroom.
I'll be back.
- Okay.
Yeah, go ahead.
What was your question?
Sorry.
Questions.
- Okay, let's start over.
- Okay.
- Okay?
Because somehow
something went wrong.
I was just standing over there.
- Uh-huh.
- And I saw you.
And you are without a doubt
the most beautiful woman
I have ever seen
in my entire life.
So I'm coming over
to say hello.
Uh, I'm Johnny.
Hello...
- Mercy.
- Mercy.
That's a joke, right?
Okay, how many times this week
have you told someone
that they were
the most beautiful woman
you've ever seen in your life?
You know what?
I can't remember.
- Oh.
Doesn't surprise me.
- But I will tell you something.
It doesn't matter,
because I have not meant it
until just now.
- Oh.
- Can I get you two something?
- Uh, she's good.
Um, um...
- I'm not thirsty.
- Sister?
- Yeah, actually.
That's a really good guess.
- I can see the similarity.
Uh, what can I do for you,
Johnny?
- Let's, uh, let's relax.
Do you want a cigarette?
- Cancer?
Huh.
No, thanks.
I'm actually out here
because I don't like
cigarette smoke.
It's like a European coffee shop
in there.
- You know what?
You are so right.
I love it when a woman is right.
I hate crowds.
Just awful.
No intimacy.
- Oh, but isn't this your party?
- It is.
- So what are we celebrating?
- Uh, well,
I just finished a book.
- Hmm.
Congratulations.
- Thank you.
You read much?
- I do, actually.
Um, I'm also a writer.
- Oh, wow.
Look at that.
- Yeah.
- That's great.
- So you were saying?
- I was saying...
Intimacy.
No intimacy.
Um, crowds.
Too much-
too much stuff.
Don't you agree?
- Well, I guess
I don't disagree.
- Fantastic.
So how about it?
- How about what?
- How about you and I alone
for a drink, my room.
No, uh, no crowds.
No smoke.
Intimacy.
- Well, thank you, but no.
- Just like that?
- I was being polite.
- You were being hasty.
What do you want,
the truth?
- Yeah, please.
- Hmm.
Okay.
Well, you are teetering-
teetering on charming.
But the polite version of,
"You must be high
"if you think that after
talking to you for two minutes
I'm just gonna go to your room
with you and get intimate,"
is, "Thank you, but no."
But good luck with all that,
you know?
- Mercy, you said, huh?
- Yup.
- Well, it was, um...
Iovely to meet you.
- Likewise.
- Enjoy your stay at the hotel.
- Thank you.
- You win.
Good night.
- Look at the young man,
bright as can be,
a vision in that suit, you are.
- Sweets.
So?
You're scaring me.
Tell me something, please.
- L.A. Weekly:
Rave.
L.A. Times:
Rave.
- Come on.
- Variety:
Rave.
- Variety?
- I couldn't believe it.
I mean,
I could because I agree,
but usually
they're like caged animals
ready to eat their young.
They use words like
powerful, delightful,
some others
I can't even pronounce.
Read it.
- Reading it.
It's amazing.
What else?
What else?
- Raves. Rave.
Raves, raves, all raves.
Except one.
- Huh?
- Mm.
Doesn't even matter.
One review.
- Not good?
- Uh, it's a-
it's a bashing, actually.
And it is The New York Arts,
the most prominent
literary magazine in the world.
But who cares?
Fuck those pretentious assholes.
Fuck 'em.
- Did you say "bashing"?
- Yeah, it's-it's not good.
- Let me see it.
- It doesn't even matter.
It's one bad review.
Everything else is perfect.
It's a best seller for sure.
- Did you look at this?
- I read it.
- "Johnny Ryan
writes without life.
"His stories
emanate from a void
"with no remnants
of any actual life experience.
"Childish at best.
"I felt"-
"I felt as if I was reading
the diary of a young girl
in high school minus the depth."
What the fuck?
- Would you stop?
Who cares?
Was it written by a woman?
- Huh?
- It was.
Written by an angry woman.
Please, stop.
Stop.
- Mercy, Mercy...
Son of a-
Mercy.
Mercy.
- What?
- I have to go.
- I thought we were-
- Thank you.
- Excuse me.
Dr. Anderbakke is gonna
be arriving in 20 minutes.
He's VIP, and I need that
to be taken care of.
- Hey, Margaret.
- Hi.
- Can I ask you
a really big favor?
- Who is it?
- Room service.
- Well, hello.
- Do me a favor, if you could,
and explain that.
- How do you mean?
- How do I mean?
Well, you didn't tell me
you were a critic.
- I told you I was a writer.
- But you're not a writer.
You're a critic, a critic
doing a piece on my book,
which you also failed
to mention.
- So?
- So you lied.
- I didn't lie.
I just avoided
telling you something.
- Well, that's the same thing.
- Well, I disagree.
- You wrote this
because I hit on you,
and you thought
I was repulsive.
- Uh, wrong again.
- Well, then explain.
- I didn't think
you were repulsive.
- Then why the bashing?
- Because I didn't like
the book.
- No, I don't buy it.
I propositioned you.
You felt disrespected,
and then you wrote this,
this filth.
- Well, for your information,
when I met you,
I'd already handed in my review.
And I didn't lie.
I just avoided
telling you what I did
and what I had done
for obvious reasons.
- Fine.
- Didn't like the book.
- Fine.
- Nothing personal.
- Great.
- I'm sure you'll be fine.
Mercy, huh?
- Mm-hmm.
- You know what?
You call yourself a writer,
right?
Then you stand to be judged
like the rest of us.
Am I right?
- I suppose so.
- Then I would like
to criticize you.
- Well, I think you've done that
already.
- No, no, no, in depth.
- Oh.
- Yeah, I would like
to discuss with you my book.
- Hmm.
Okay.
- Okay?
- Yeah.
Okay.
- Available any time
this evening?
- I could be.
- Is this a date?
- A date?
No.
No.
- Fine.
- Wait a-
Shit.
- I mean, all weekend long,
I'm sitting in my room,
curled up in a little ball,
praying to God
that she would just call
and say, "I'm sorry"
and that everything's
gonna be all right.
Then all of a sudden,
my prayers are answered.
She calls and does just that.
Now what?
I'm supposed to just pretend
like I don't give a fuck?
Tell her I can't speak to her?
Something's just wrong
about that.
You know, it's, like,
sacrilegious or something.
It's like
I'd be fucking with God.
I mean,
I ask him for something,
and then when he gives it to me,
I turn it down.
It's like smacking God
in the face.
You can't smack God in the face.
I don't even know why,
and I know I shouldn't,
but I trust her.
For some reason or another, man,
I believed her.
I don't know what it's like
to shoot dope or anything,
but that's what it felt like.
The sweat dried up.
The pain went away.
It's like I could feel her.
You know,
her voice through the phone
was like this intravenous
injection of some medicine
that made my bones work again.
I mean, they weren't working.
You know,
I woke up the other day,
fell on my face.
You know, 20-something years
of a task that seemed so simple,
out the window.
One foot in front of the other
became, like,
this fucked-up Rubik's Cube,
and there I am,
facedown on my hardwood floor
trying to figure it out.
I just don't want to look back
on my life with regret.
I don't want to be stubborn
and then
at the end of the day
feel like
I should have done the thing
that I felt like doing
in the first place,
but my pride or ego
got in the way.
Then what?
It's too late,
she's gone,
and guess what, man?
It's your own stupid fault.
But at least I have my pride?
Fuck that.
Pride's overrated,
and pain's a son of a bitch.
I think
I really love this girl,
and I think
she might be the one.
I mean, people make mistakes.
- Excuse me for a second.
What the hell's
the matter with you?
- What do you mean?
- Where are you at?
- I'm just thinking.
- Well, please, share.
- Hello?
- No disrespect, Erik.
I clearly know
what it is you're thinking.
- Do you guys think
I have depth?
- Sure, you got depth.
What does that mean?
- I went on a date last night.
- Really?
- It didn't start as a date,
but then it turned into a date.
Really, really beautiful woman.
She's a critic, and she, uh-
she hated my book.
- Mm, fuck her.
- Well, yeah, but she made
some interesting points,
something about life experience
and how it lacked truth.
"Love without love," she said.
It's funny, you know,
usually when women speak,
I can only hear the teacher
from Peanuts.
But with her, I just-
I don't know.
I heard her and listened to her
for hours and hours.
We talked about other stuff,
not just the book.
- Okay, I'm going home.
- Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Listen to me for a second,
okay?
Listen, Erik, you can talk
till you're blue in the face,
and there's nothing
he or I can say
that's gonna influence you
even a little bit.
So stop it.
You know what you're gonna do
at the end of the day,
so just shut up and do it.
You really think
you love this girl?
Then what the fuck?
Give it another shot.
Did I just say that?
It's not gonna work.
She's a woman.
You're a man.
Fuck her.
Don't ever call her ever again.
That better?
- When you gonna see this girl
again?
- Don't laugh at me, or I'm
gonna take that rose back.
- You wouldn't.
Thank you.
- Get you a drink.
What do you want?
- Uh, you're kidding, right?
- I'm not trying
to get you drunk
and sleep with you.
We're gonna watch
The Outsiders,
'cause it's a sin
you've never seen it,
and then I'm gonna take you
back to the hotel.
I swear to God.
What?
You've lived here
for five years.
- Oh, um, simplicity.
- Oh.
Simplicity.
I see.
Is that what it is?
Well, I think you need to
complicate things immediately.
It's so cold in here.
- Cold? You want heat?
I got heat.
- Oh, no, not temperature cold.
I mean empty cold.
I mean, it's such a cute place,
but you could really do
with some color.
You know, some life,
some things.
I'm sorry.
Am I offending you?
- No.
Drink?
- Yeah, water's great.
Thanks.
Is that even a real stove?
I mean, each to their own
and everything,
but how do you live?
- Well, um, I eat out a lot.
And I stay at hotels
a lot of the time,
and I have really bad taste
in furniture.
- Oh.
I see.
That's cute.
- Have a seat.
- Well, I think you have
a wonderful place.
- Thank you.
Thank you very much.
My purse.
- You okay?
Your purse?
- You all right?
- Yeah.
Sorry.
- Don't be sorry.
You all right?
Yeah.
I'm severely asthmatic.
Bad air, too much exercise.
Anxiety.
And sometimes
they just come out of nowhere,
which is great.
That's the cutest thing
I've ever seen in my life.
No, I'm sorry,
but that's amazing.
- Yeah, well, stick around,
'cause it gets better.
- Okay.
- I can't believe
I've never seen this movie.
- I told you.
- It's really good.
I always thought
it was such a guy movie.
- Well, it sort of is.
- It sort of isn't.
All those tough guys?
Just a bunch of scared
little kids who want a hug.
- Is that what you think?
- Yeah.
What do you think?
- I think you may have
missed the point.
- Oh, really?
- Yeah.
- Hmm.
You're a walking contradiction.
You know that?
- I'm a-me?
- Yeah.
- How-why's that?
- Well, you're a gentleman.
You know, you open the door,
you throw the jacket in the mud,
but you take back the rose.
You're charming,
but you're careful.
You write about love,
but, um, you don't know
how to spell it.
Talk.
What are you?
It's good.
- That's it?
- Well, it's only a few pages.
- No, it's a chapter.
- Well, I said it was good.
- I don't do this, you know?
- You don't do what?
- I don't check in.
- Meaning?
- I usually
don't seek out approval.
- Is that what you're doing?
- Well, I respect your opinion.
- You do?
- Yes, I do.
Tell me what you think,
and don't say, "It's good."
Well...
I think that shirt
you're wearing
makes your eyes pop out
of your head like a spaceship.
- Thank you.
- I think it's good.
I'm just not sure
what you're writing about now.
- Thank you.
Jesus, that's all
I wanted to hear.
- That's all you wanted?
- Yeah.
- Why didn't you just say so?
- 'Cause I was waiting
for you to ask.
- Oh.
Complicated.
- Difficult.
- Oh, yeah?
Pray tell.
- I like you.
- I like you too.
- So this character...
- You.
- This character.
- Okay, fine.
- All right,
very strange upbringing,
raised by wolves,
not literally,
but raised by his single father
who appears to hate women.
He's a class-act, this guy,
right, despite the above.
True gentleman, just been burned
one too many times.
He teaches the young man
everything he knows
despite his seemingly
true feelings:
Romance, chivalry,
the whole thing.
But contrarian of that,
the way of the wolf.
- And wolves hate women.
- That's a fact.
- Of course.
- Now, he's been told
all his life
about the evil ways of women-
the bad doings,
what have you-
but simultaneously,
he's taught to be a ladies' man.
What does he see?
He sees his mother.
What is she?
- She's terrible.
- Right.
- You know, I think that Freud
already wrote this one.
In fact,
he wrote a few of them.
- Yeah, but this is
a love story.
- Oh, I see.
- Yeah.
- So then what happens?
- I don't know yet.
It's only the first chapter.
- One-one Mallards on one.
Ready?
All: Break!
- Down.
Hut!
- Get him!
- There he goes!
- Go, go!
- Ah, get him!
- Oh!
- All right!
- All right, all right.
- Aw, we'll sit one out.
- Sitting one out.
Run five, yeah?
- Come on, you pussies.
- Shut up, bitch.
- Let's go. Let's go!
- Pussy.
- Ah.
I can't breathe.
- Bogie?
- Oh...
- Hut, hut!
- There he is!
Get him!
Come on!
- Go! Go! Go!
- I got it!
- Go, go, go!
Get him!
- You hit like a bitch.
- Bitch.
- My ribs!
- You seeing that girl?
- What girl?
- Do me a favor.
I haven't seen you
for two weeks.
You fucking her?
Oh, excuse me.
I mean, that would be
so unlike you.
- You know what?
I don't even want
to talk about it.
- Oh!
- Hey, douche bag!
It's a football!
Don't be scared of it.
Just catch it!
- All right, hop up.
- No way, man!
What are you talking about?
- What?
- What?
- What, what?
Speak, you little prick.
What's the problem?
- There's no problem.
She's going back to New York
in a couple days anyway.
- Ah, she lives in New York?
- Yeah.
- Aw, that's too bad.
- It is what it is.
- You know what's good?
- No, what?
- That I don't have to sit here
and give you some
sentimental bullshit story
about life, some lecture,
waste my time telling you
some bullshit
that you already know.
- Set.
Offsides.
- It's good.
You're a smart guy.
You're smarter than me,
so fortunately,
I don't have to say anything.
Or better yet,
you see that girl?
She's a nice-looking girl.
Maybe you could walk over there,
get her number,
and you could fuck her tonight.
And then you could spend
the rest of the evening
trying to figure out
how to get her to leave.
Sounds like fun, doesn't it?
- Pass!
- No, it's a run!
It's a run!
He's going outside!
- Yeah!
- Come on.
Play defense, Janice,
or what?
Uh-Oh!
Turnover, bitch!
Hey!
- What?
Huh?
- I said, "Are you?"
- Yes, I am.
- You think that's important?
- Don't get snappy with me.
- Are you impressed?
- I'll make you eat cannoli.
- Oh, ew.
- Please.
Please.
It's good.
- Oh...
- Here.
I'm sorry.
- Oh, great.
- That was mean.
I'm sorry.
I won't do that again.
- Yeah, that's really funny.
- I won't.
This time I won't.
I promise.
I swear to God.
Do it again.
Have a bite of the cannoli.
I promise.
I'll close my eyes.
Eat it.

- I'm leaving tomorrow.
- I know.
Fun trip.
Well, this is me.
- I know.
Can I come in for a little bit?
- What for?
Sorry.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it like that.
Yes.
Of course.
You can come in
for a little bit.
- Don't go back to New York.
Stay with me.
- What?
- Stay here.
Look at me.
I have never met a woman
that I've wanted to spend
ten minutes with,
let alone ten days, okay?
I don't know
what's gonna happen,
but I just know
I don't want you to go.
I don't even know
what's happening right now,
because I have nothing
to compare it to,
but just stay.
- I can't just do that.
- Why not?
- I don't know.
- If you leave,
I'll kill you.
- Me too.
- My man.
My man!
- Uno ms?
- I don't speak Spanish, amigo.
- What can I do for you?
- I don't know.
I really don't know.
What can you do for me?
- Buddy, come on.
You want a drink or not?
- You got a lady, bro?
- What?
- You heard what I asked you.
- Yeah, yeah,
I got a lady, bro.
Now, do you want a drink
or not?
- She cute?
She take good care of you
or what?
Don't turn your back on me
when I'm talking to you.
Come here.
- Hey, man, am I missing
something here?
You got a problem with me?
- Well, you just seem
really happy, you know?
All smiles and shit
all night long.
Shitty job like this,
and you're smiling all night.
I'm thinking to myself,
this guy has got to have
a nice female at home
waiting for him.
So no problem.
I'm just-I'm just asking
if that's the case.
You know what I mean?
- All right, I see.
What happened?
Your girl left you?
She fucking someone else, huh?
- What do you think you
would do, as a man, you know?
What do you think you'd do
if I leaned over this bar
and put this cigarette out
right in your fucking neck, huh?
- You know what?
Get the fuck out of here.
- Fuck you!
- Yeah, fuck me, yeah.
- Fucking piece of shit.
You know what?
I'm sorry.
One more thing.
I just gotta -
- Yeah, what's that, tough guy?
What the fuck?
- Right here.
They told me
you didn't want out.
- What's that?
- When I called to make bail,
they said you denied it.
I told them
you were mentally unstable
and I was your lawyer,
and if they didn't let you go,
I was gonna make a big deal
out of the thing or something.
What?
Nothing?
Got nothing to say?
- I don't know.
What do you want me to say?
- Nothing.
You want me to take you home?
No.
- You wanna come to my place?
- No.
- Chris isn't there.
- What is that supposed to mean,
Dane?
- I don't know what it means,
Johnny.
- You just said it
completely out of context, Dane,
so I'm asking you what it meant.
- Well, it wasn't completely
out of context.
I thought you might
want to be alone.
- Why?
Why would I want to be alone?
I got into a fight.
What's the big deal?
Get off my back.
- What?
You wanna get in another one?
I'll pull over right now,
you little fuck.
Don't start with me.
Look, I don't know
what you want.
I come down here.
I bail you out.
You're trying to pick a fight
with me?
I can't read your fucking mind.
You don't talk to me anymore
about shit.
What do you want me to do?
- Pull over.
Just pull the fuck over.
- Fine.
This what you wanna do with me?
- You're the one who just
said it in the car, not me.
- What the fuck
is the matter with you?
- I fucking miss her so much,
and I don't know
what I'm doing.
I'm sorry.
Come in.
- Here.
- Thank you.
- I just grabbed
a bunch of shit.
I didn't know what you needed.
- Just gonna be
a couple days, so...
But thank you.
- No, you should stay a while.
Let Chris pamper you.
Good food.
Good company.
Well, Dane's here, so...
food,
good food.
- See what happens.
- I got your typewriter
in the car.
You want me to go grab it?
- No, I don't need it.
Thank you, though.
- I'll get it just in case.
- I just said
I don't need it.
- Well, I brought it,
so I might as well...
- How about you throw it out
on the fucking freeway?
- Done.
You should be using
a computer anyway,
you pretentious fuck.
- Thank you for bringing me
my stuff.
- No problem.
- Ready?
- You know what?
I'm gonna sit this one out.
- Aw, come on!
- You see this?
She doesn't have a drink.
She doesn't have a drink.
Go and ask them
if they want any drinks.
You got to stock the cooler
at night.
You can't charge people $8
for a warm beer at 7:00.
- Sorry, Dane.
- Come on.
Christa, how you doing?
- I don't even know
why I'm here.
If you didn't want me to come,
you should have just said that.
- Aw.
Of course,
he wanted you to come.
You know, when you're not here,
he always goes,
"Oh, God,
I wish Jessica was here."
You don't need to hear that shit
tonight, right?
Who needs a drink?
- Yeah, let me get a scotch.
- Erik?
- I'll be right back.
- You gonna bring him a scotch?
- Don't start, Erik.
What the fuck are you
offering him drinks for?
- What do you want me to do-
he's a grown-ass man-
tell him he can't have a drink?
He's fine.
- Hey.
Don't I know you?
- I don't know, do you?
- Yeah, um, I'm Heather.
Roosevelt Hotel, a year ago.
I was working there.
- I'm sorry.
- No, no, no, wait.
- What?
- One drink.
- One drink?
One drink.
Yeah.
That's right.
- You owe me one.
So come find me.
Okay?
- Okay.
- Okay.
- By the wayside
was where I found her
She was subtle
with her face and eyes
And she was clever
in the waistline
Body like a baseline
And when she comes around
I'm Lou Reed
and wanna be inside of her
When underground, wanna lie
with her in the wildest ways
I was dazed and fluttered
like I climbed the stage
But I'm melting in the warmth
of her eyes and face
Her frozen place
She flashback
to childish days
She said, "I can't breathe,"
throwing up her long sleeves
Now I'm married to a concept
I can't conceive
And I wanna just leave,
but I can't just leave
Understand, 'cause, please,
I done lost enough sleep
Put my hands on my knees,
screaming, Oh, God, please
Some people think children
understand to degrees
But they see
nearly everything
You think they don't see
You think it's all...
- I just moved in
a couple of months ago,
so don't say anything.
- Simplicity's good.

So should we have a drink?
- It's a little late for that.
- You're so beautiful
So strange, so lovely

And so true
But if you...
- Stay there.
- I never said I love you

You're a dream come true
for someone
But not for me

You kept me warm

And I can't contain

It hurts to know the truth

- Is it me?
Do you want me to do something?
Fuck.
It's not working.
No.
- Keep going.
- I'm sorry.
- I got to go.
- Well, that's a first.
- What did you just say?
Hmm?
- Nothing.
- No, that's a true story.
- Hey, guys.
- Excuse me for a second.
What are you doing?
- Nothing.
What are you doing?
- Where you been at?
- I was taking a walk.
- I saw your car was here.
I thought
you were taking a nap, so...
But then I realized
you weren't here.
- I'm a half an hour late.
- Yeah, I know,
but I thought you were here,
which would have given me time
to explain.
- Explain what?
- Well, there's nothing
really to explain.
- Who's that?
- She's a friend of Chris'.
They, uh-
they work together.
Super nice lady.
- Oh, I'll see you later.
- Johnny.
Stop.
Look, it's not a date.
All right?
It's not even not a date.
It's nothing.
Chris invited her over
to have dinner.
That's it.
She's really hot, though.
She is.
But that doesn't matter,
because it's not a date.
All right?
So just sit, have dinner.
Don't worry.
I'll do all the talking.
You don't have to say a word.
- Such an asshole.
- Wait, listen, listen, listen,
listen, listen.
So his father,
along with being
one of the smartest,
was also one of the scariest
human beings
on the planet Earth.
- Mm-hmm.
- No disrespect.
I love the guy.
It's just-
well, it's a heavy combination.
I mean, he had hands
like grapefruits.
He looked at you funny,
and you start to cry.
- You'd start to cry.
- Whatever, tough guy.
Anyway, so we're at this
pool hall down on Fairfax.
- Yeah.
- Just down the street
from here.
Well, to make a long story
short, we start a riot.
We picked a fight with, what,
two or three guys?
Turns out to be
half the pool hall.
Before you know it,
one thing leads to another,
and we're fighting, like,
seven frat boy jag-offs.
- Mouth.
- What?
- Come on.
We have a lady guest here.
- What did I say?
Jag-offs?
What's the matter with jag-off?
- There's nothing wrong
with jag-off.
- Thank you.
- Sure.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
- Jag-off.
Anyway, bottles are flying.
Chairs are getting smashed.
Boom.
This guy's like De Niro
in Mean Streets,
jumping up on tables,
whacking people
with fucking pool cues.
What?
It didn't happen?
It didn't happen?
It's not true?
- It's true.
- Yeah.
Okay.
Anyway we-
so we get out of there.
I don't know how,
but somehow we escape.
And we're running.
And we're running back home.
We get to his house.
Bang.
And there he is,
standing in the doorway,
his old man.
He's like a shadow.
He's like a massive,
black shadow of pain.
The second I saw him,
my first thought was to run back
to the pool hall,
because I thought we'd have
a better shot back there,
but I didn't.
Very calm, very relaxed,
he leans in.
He says,
"You been fighting again?"
He's like,
"No, Dad, I swear to God."
Right?
Turns to me and goes,
"Is that right?"
I'm like, "Ha.
Yeah, Mr. Ryan.
Why would you think that,
you know?"
"No reason.
"Just tell me one thing.
Where'd you get that knife?"
I'm like, "What knife?"
Completely confused, right?
He says, "That knife,
the one stuck in the back
of your fucking leg."
Swear to God!
Off to the hospital we went.
He probably got beat.
- I did, I did,
but not for fighting; for lying.
- Not for fighting.
- That makes complete sense,
I think.
- It does.
Yeah.
It sounds like our fathers
should go bowling together.
My father used to put boxing
gloves on my two brothers
if they had any problems
and just let them go at it.
- That also makes sense to me.
- All right, all right.
- Sounds fair.
- Sounds good.
For them, but not for me.
My father's very old-fashioned,
you know.
A lady's a lady.
A man's a man.
- Also makes sense.
- It does,
but not if you want to kill
one of your little brothers.
And I did on a regular basis.
So one time, I insisted.
I told my father,
if he didn't let me box,
that I would go and kill Timmy
in the middle of the night.
- I would have let you box
after that.
- Well, it got me in the ring.
So we go into the backyard.
And he was sure
I was gonna change my mind
as soon as we actually
got in the ring,
but I'd been wanting this.
There's no way I'm backing down,
right?
So we're in there, right?
We got gloves on.
We got headgear, mouthpiece.
- I'm done up.
Right?
And my father's just stalling.
He keeps looking at me,
you know, like,
"Robin, please.
Enough is enough.
Just call it off."
Finally, I just exploded.
I go running at my brother
across the ring, right?
And my father,
he swings in there.
He picks me up right before
I could even land one punch.
- No!
- That's not right!
- No, that's completely unfair.
- It's not fair at all.
- Not at all.
It's so not cool.
So actually, that night-
that night, after everybody
went to sleep,
I, uh...
I did.
I-I stabbed
my little brother Timmy.
I thought about it, anyway.
- Fantastic finish.
- That was a good one.
- That was good,
because I seriously
got swept into it.
Well done.
Didn't I tell you?
- Don't.
- I'm not.
- I know.
- Just saying.
- I know.
- Well?
- They're good.
- Right?
- Yeah, don't.
- Come on.
- Don't.
- Come on.
- I mean, I guess it depends
upon where you go, right?
I think there's
great people here.
- I do too.
- It's like anywhere, right?
There's good people.
There's bad people.
- True.
- You got to find
the right ones.
- It's true, true.
- You lived here
your whole life?
- Mm-hmm.
Pretty much, yeah.
- Yeah?
Family's here?
- Um...
- I'm sorry.
- No, no, I'm just-
I'm messing with you.
- Really?
Come on.
What?
- No, I honestly
haven't spoken to my mother
since I was a little kid,
haven't seen her
or spoken to her,
and my father and I
don't speak too much either,
but he's around.
That's kind of it
for family for me.
- Okay.
- Yeah.
- You ever been to Chicago?
- I have.
- Yeah?
- I have, yeah.
I was there once.
I was on a layover
on my way to New York,
and I went outside,
and I smoked a cigarette,
and it was freezing cold.
- Yeah.
Well, there's a lot more to it
than being cold.
- Like what?
- That's part of it, though,
for sure.
- Like what?
- Like the food, the people,
the city.
I don't know.
You know, it's home, you know?
- If it's home,
why did you leave?
- It's a long story.
- You're good at those.
- Really?
- You are good at them.
- Okay.
L-no, I'm-
I was complimenting you.
- Okay.
- I was saying that,
and that's an art,
which you've learned well,
and you're good at it.
So please,
tell me another long story.
- Come on.
- Okay.
I was married,
married my high school
sweetheart.
And we grew up about
three blocks
away from each other.
And we got married at a church
about three blocks
away from that.
And then we lived
in a house together
about three blocks
away from the church
where we got married.
So basically, my whole life
was spent in a ten-block radius
with the same person,
and he passed away
a few years ago.
So it was just too much,
you know?
Just couldn't stay.
- Could you, um-
could you just excuse me
for a second?
- Sure.
- What's up?
- What happened?
- Hey, Pop.
Want to have a drink?
- Yeah, it was amazing.
- Huh.
- What?
- I'm just listening.
- Huh.
It was amazing.
Amazing.
You know, I would tell them
that you were this anomaly
and that you would pick
the right book
because of the warmth
and the scent.
And all these
bullshit intellectuals
gathered to discuss Proust.
And here they are
just watching you so closely,
like you had
this supernatural gift.
- I don't know why
I can't remember any of this.
- How could you forget that?
- I don't know.
- I mean, it was our best act.
Pretty much our only act,
but we owned the room.
- I don't remember.
- Well, I don't-
well, maybe because
you were seven or eight.
I still don't see
how you can't remember.
Anyway, here's what happened.
I'd line up
seven or eight books,
tell you to leave the room.
Then you'd leave the room,
and I'd grab one them,
say, "Put your hand on any book,
one book for five seconds."
They'd do that, and I'd call you
back in the room.
You'd come in all serious,
and you'd play it to the hilt.
And then you'd come out
and inspect the books
really carefully,
and then you'd grab
this person's hand,
and you'd smell it,
and you'd feel the hand,
and you'd feel the book.
And you handled the books
with such care.
It was great.
And then I just waited until
you touched the right book.
- And then you would take
a drag off your cigarette
with your left hand.
- No, no, no, no.
- Yeah.
- No.
- No, what do you mean?
- That was not the signal.
It was much more subtle
than that.
- No, you-
- Any blind man could see
that I switched hands.
- You switched!
- That's a big, physical move.
- That's what it was.
- I never switched.
Stop.
The signal was that
when you touched the right book,
I would take a puff
from the right side of my mouth,
or I would just leave it hanging
from the right side.
Little subtle, okay?
- I was just saying
that I remembered, is all.
It came back to me.
- Well, you should.
I mean, those people went nuts.
I mean, they thought you were
this unprecedented wizard.
- That is amazing.
- No, it was great.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
- Yeah, most kids my age
were watching cartoons,
and I was sitting around
watching you guys
break down Dante's Inferno.
- Right.
Absurd waste of time.
I think the real fun
was getting drunk
and beating the shit
out of my colleagues.
- I remember that too.
Yeah, well, well.
Well.
That was then.
This is now.
So...
- Wait.
Go ahead.
- Go ahead what?
- Ask me.
- Ask you what?
- We've been sitting here
long enough.
I'm sure you're dying
of curiosity,
so go ahead and ask.
- John boy, hold on.
I have absolutely no idea
what you're talking about.
- Ask me what happened.
Ask me where she is.
- Ask...
Allow me to be a little more
than honest here, my son.
Probably the last thing
on my mind
was to ask you that.
See, I was-
you know, I was just figuring on
a couple drinks, a few laughs.
That's all.
I'd rather it if, uh,
we just keep it easy here.
- Okay.
It's fine.
- Fine.
- That's great.
- I see.
- That's great.
Just keep it easy.
- Okay.
Okay.
Well...
Okay.
All right, then.
To the inevitable.
The truth.
You, um-
you did seem happy, John.
I didn't want to say anything,
you know,
because I knew, sooner or later,
you'd find out.
It's just not gonna work.
Now, see, funny-
funny thing is that
I almost believed you.
And I almost remembered
feeling the way you felt
about your mother.
You know the feeling,
that everything,
one way or another,
was going to be just swell
just as long
as we had each other.
But yet here we are.
Love is a myth.
Unfortunately,
it does not exist.
- Take
Take what
you think you need

Bury the clashing breed
Over the rainbow

Strike
Strike them
where they stand

Don't let them drag
you in...
To the river

You're so mixed up in it
And you just
can't find the nerve
Better force it down
And bend my will
Gonna get what I deserve

The whisper of demons
Comes from the other room

Talk
Talk to yourself

If only to be adored
- It's so good.
- And adored
- How long
has he lived up here?
- Ah, about ten years, I think.
- Oh.
Hey.
You okay?
- Yeah.
Look, I don't know much,
because you don't tell me.
And to tell you the truth,
I don't care,
because I only care about you
and what's best for you.
But we must have come up here
for a reason.
- I just want him to meet you.
- Okay.
Simple.
Let's do it.
- I don't get much company,
so I'm sorry for the mess.
The maid comes January 15th.
- Don't worry about it.
- I worry.
Prettiest woman
I've ever seen sitting there.
She probably thinks
I'm an animal.
I don't think you're an animal.
- Well, I'm not.
Would you cover her eyes
for just a moment, please?
Cover her eyes.
- Cover her eyes?
Okay.
- Just a second.
- Fine.
I'm actually a prince.
- I've just been out
of character for a few years.
Are you sure I can't get you
something to drink?
- Oh, no, I'm fine.
Thank you.
- John boy?
- Uh, I haven't had a drink
in seven years, Pop.
I quit smoking too.
- Wait.
You don't drink,
and you don't smoke.
How in God's name do you work?
Speaking of which,
how are those awful
romantic novels that you write?
I'm just kidding him.
We sort of tease each other.
- No, no, no, no.
It's fine.
How's grading
other people's work?
That going good?
- Ah.
A dastardly gash to the abdomen.
He is correct.
A waste of one of the greatest
talents of all time,
yours truly.
Tell her, John.
- That's true.
He is something else.
- No.
I am something.
This is true.
But this woman right here,
she is something else.
I say keep her, my boy,
or I will steal her
from where she sits.
I challenge you to a duel
for the heart
of the young princess.
- I'm no match for you, Pop.
- This is true.
My lady.
- I'm afraid my heart's
already taken, Mr. Ryan.
- A real gem.
Can I use your restroom?
- Yes, yes, indeed, but please,
don't touch anything.
It could be detrimental
to your very being.
So that would be
the second door on the left,
past the second pile
of something or other
on the right.
- Okay.
I'll find it.
- Very well.
Hmm.
- Mm.
- So...
- How you been?
- Shitty.
You?
- I've been good.
- It's been a long time.
- Yeah.
A few years.
- At least.
- Yeah.
- Well, this one,
she's got you good, huh?
Be careful.
- I didn't come here for that.
- Oh, sure you did.
- Nope.
Nope.
I just wanted you to meet her.
- Why?
You think you love her?
- Yeah, I know I do.
- So what?
What does that mean?
- I don't know.
I don't know.
Why don't you tell me?
- No, no, you tell me.
Me telling you would be
pointless, now, wouldn't it?
- Okay.
Well, never met anyone like her.
- Again, so what?
She is amazing.
- Well, so am I.
I love being with her.
- Check, please.
- She is the last thing
that I ever wanted,
and since meeting her,
I wouldn't be able to tell you
who I was without her.
- Well, there you go.
I felt that way
about your mother.
Ah.
- You're beautiful.
- I love it
when you tell me that.
- Then I'll tell you every day.
- What if you miss a day?
- I won't.
- What if you're far away
and the phones don't work?
- Then I'll scream.

What?
- Thick in the heat of love
The fire goes out

Collapse into silken flesh
Fingers they will caress
Entwined in the feral wilds
They scratch and claw

- Okay.
I'm late.
I love you.
- I love you too.
Call me when you're done.
I'll come back and grab you.
- Okay.
- Hey.
You're beautiful.
I love you.
- Morning, handsome.
- Look at the young man.
A glow about him.
- Ah.
See that shit?
- I do.
Sit.
- Ah.
- The book.
- Wow.
Straight to biz, huh?
- You know my style.
- I do, but I also have news.
- Book, then news.
- News, then book.
- Mm, no.
- Okay, go ahead.
- I didn't get it.
Is he a child,
or is he an adult?
- Well, he's, uh-
he's both.
Literally, he's an adult,
but he's a child in the sense
that he's getting another chance
at his childhood,
like a do-over.
So yes, he's an adult,
but he is still like a child.
- But he's a man.
- He's a man, yeah.
- Still don't get it.
- Don't worry.
It's all gonna come together.
- Fine.
I trust you.
- Yeah.
- News.
- News.
You're gonna look amazing
in a tuxedo.
- Oh.
Oh, no.
No.
I don't believe it.
- Hold on.
Hello?
This is he.
What did you do to me?
What did you do this to me for?
You want it?
Come on!
Come on!
Come on!
Come on, all you fucks!

- Love...
is a myth.
Bedtime story.
Unfortunately,
it does not exist.
And the minute
you catch yourself
thinking that it does,
well,
it's just a question of time
before you realize
the hard fact of life.
We just don't mix.
Fuck her, son.
Fuck her, wherever she is,
so deeply filled
with sorrow and regret.
But, uh...
fuck your mother too.
You're wrong, Pop.
You're wrong.

- You live your life
inside a dance
Waltz across
the crowded room
All their eyes are on you
There's nothing to see

You're not taking
your last dance
Mind can paralyze
But the heart will redefine
your perfect form

And love will not last
for me
- So?
What the fuck do they know,
anyway?
Morons.
They know not what they do.
They just do.
Sheep.
- That good, huh?
- Mixed.
Not terrible, not great.
It'll do all right.
- What do you think?
- I think it'll do all right.
Just don't go put a Ferrari
on your AmEx.
You'll be fine.
We'll be fine.
- No, what do you think
about the book?
- I told you what I thought,
and it doesn't matter.
I didn't get it.
But look at me.
I'm shallow.
I lack depth.
I like popcorn
and happy endings.
I like you.
You're happy,
I'm happy.
I think it'll do all right.
- Mmm.
- Animal.
Can you wait
till I go put it down, please?
Please.
- I love it
when she's mean to me.
- Okay.
Go.
Entertain.
Johnny, I need to talk to you.
- What?
- I just got to talk to you
for a second.
- About what?
- It's no big deal.
Let me just talk to you.
Everyone, can I have
your attention, please?
Attention.
Yo!
In the back!
This is my best friend,
Johnny-boy Ryan,
and he's a genius in my book.
So fuck 'em
if they don't like it.
Tonight, we celebrate!
To Johnny-boy!
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Cheers.
- The meat is so...
It's so-it's so-
- Succulent.
- Mm, that's right.
- I like succulent.
- No, look, I want kids,
right?
I want kids.
She doesn't want them.
She says she has to worry
about her career.
I mean, no disrespect,
but she's a caterer.
You can't be pregnant
and serve, what, dip?
- He's so cute.
I think I'm ready
to have a baby.
- Johnny.
Johnny, Johnny, me boy.
Johnny, this is Tess.
Tess, this is Johnny.
- Hi.
- Nice to meet you.
- Tess here is studying
to be a chef,
and coincidentally enough,
eating is one
of my favorite things.
It's what I do.
A match made in heaven,
wouldn't you say?
- I would.
Yeah.
- Johnny just finished
his fourth novel,
just hit the racks
a few days ago.
- Wow.
Congratulations.
- Thank you.
- Only took him two years.
Well, I don't do
a lot of reading,
but I'd like to check it out.
Is it long?
- Uh, it's-
yeah, a little long.
It's a long one.
- Yeah, it's-
- Oh, well.
Well, we'll have to...
Get her the Cliffs Notes, huh?
- Tess, it was really great
to meet you.
- You too.
- And, uh, you, you...
- Forget about it.
- All right.
- Do we have to do this
every time?
- What is the matter with you?
- Nothing.
What is the matter with you?
- I'm fine.
- Well, so am I.
- Okay, so then what's going on?
- Oh, I need to get drunk.
- These are male nylons.
Nylons,
'cause I have sweaty feet,
and the doctor said that
if I started wearing
these types of socks,
that I would stop getting-
- I'm sorry. I missed-
What?
Hey.
How you doing?
- Very well.
You?
- I'm good.
You know, I really wanted
to apologize
for the last time I saw you.
I was...
- Don't worry about it.
- Thank you.
- I love the book.
I spent the day reading it.
Couldn't put it down.
I started it, and I finished it,
same day.
I can only do that when
I'm really enjoying something.
- Well, it took me about a year
to write the last chapter,
so I'm really glad you liked it.
- I did.
You should take a year
to write every chapter.
- Tell my agent.
- I will.
I'd love to talk to you about it
sometime.
- Well, how about now?
- Sure.
Love to.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
- Let's go.
- Okay.
- I don't want to take
And, baby,
I don't want to break
And, baby, I don't want
to try and make you anyway
I just want to lie down
Tell my crazy brains
to lie down
And then fall away
I won't be alone
I won't be waiting
by the phone
I won't be dreaming of you
dreaming of me anyway
Tell me where you've been
And I will tell you
where I've been
It will be all okay

Leave me not alone
I won't be chased
I won't be thrown
I won't be bleeding for you
Bleeding for me every day