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Baby, please don't... I love you. |
I don't want to be a fool!... I want to look them in the eye and say, I know! |
Baby, don't do this |
it'll help me if you'll tell me. |
please, baby |
no, it'll help me, really |
How? |
I'll know you've lied to me... all along. I'll know you're incapable of... love... that'll help me... not now, but eventually. |
... well I'm glad you told me. |
Jesus. |
What? What? What? What? What? |
... honest. At least you're honest with me. |
Does it make you happy? |
I wish you'd go now. |
That's all you've got to say? |
yes. |
tell me something did you talk about me? |
George... |
Did you? |
Please!... that's not like you. |
Yeah, I know. Did you? |
George, now cut this out. |
Did you? |
Stop it. |
Did you? |
Yes, yes, I did. |
What did you say? |
George, if you keep this up I'm going to scream. |
What did you say? |
George... |
What did you say? |
I said you were a loser! |
Nothing, my sister's back from Vegas. |
That's too bad. |
I have to see you. |
Hey, stop by the shop. |
Hi, George. |
Hey, baby, what's happening? |
Nothing, I reconciled with Ron, you know, the guy I divorced last summer. |
Great, great. I hope you make it. |
Call me! |
I don't have your number, stop by the shop. |
Okay! |
Jackie Shawn. |
yeah, this is |
yes, George. |
I guess you haven't heard from her yet. |
Not yet. |
Okay... thanks... |
Yeah! |
Wash her. |
What with? |
A brillo pad, I don't care, anything. |
You takin' a lot of shit lately, George. |
Oh yeah. |
But then again you ask for it you just like my Otis can't keep his hands outta ladies' hair either. |
White ladies? |
Oh my yes. |
That boy always does great. He's a corporal or a squad leader or something, just wrote me from some place called Kwang Due? |
I don't know if you don't know |
What's wrong, Mary, are you drunk? Look, I've had a rough night, one of the roughest I've ever had, now I'm not in the mood for any sulking bullshit, what's wrong? Are you sick? Are you drunk? Can you work? |
Otis is dead. |
Otis? |
you shouldn't talk to me like that no matter what, George... you know better... |
oh sweetheart... |
you shouldn't do me like that... |
please, please forgive me... |
you know better... |
why did you come in today? |
left my bag, didn't have no money... |
how did you get here? |
took a bus. |
c'mon, I'll get you home... |
Do you know what that Lillian Bercovici just did? |
No, man. |
Right after I sprayed her? |
What? |
She touched it! Then she played in it and got it all into something else. Now I don't know what it is! |
I can't even stand to talk to her on the phone. |
She's heavy. See, Norman expects me to get in here, take care of all the customers and then do his show out in Norwalk. I gotta have my own shop, just out of self defense. |
Hey, what's happening? Mary! Telephone. What's the matter? |
Wanda... |
Oh yeah? |
You were supposed to handle that bitch, she's always asking for you, and she was furious you weren't here. |
Yeah?... |
She's murdered her hair... you do something with her, I'm never going to touch her again. |
I'm busy, man. |
If I have to touch her again, I'll throw up! |
Don't talk like a child. You're a pro, now get out there and cut! |
So how's Norman? |
Great. Who's been doing your hair? |
Jesus... |
Yeah... your car down here? |
Listen, I'm supposed to take Jill to El Cholo tonight. She's really going to be pissed if I don't. |
Maybe she'll come with us. If I tell her how important it is to me, I don't think she'll mind. Do you? |
I don't know. Probably not. |
Jill's really great, isn't she? |
Great... so how's everything with you? |
How long you had this? |
Oh, about six weeks now... Lester well, he's very sweet. |
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