High Fidelity

ROB: Really? Married Kevin? Her junior high sweetheart... What chance would I have had against that? None, no chance. That's just fate.

ALISON'S MOM: I beg your pardon?

ROB: Technically, I'm number one. I went out with her a week before Kevin did. Her first boyfriend. Me.

ROB: Rob. Rob Gordon. Circa junior high...

ALISON'S MOM: I hate to quibble with you Rob, but she married her first boyfriend. Kevin Bannister.

ROB: You gotta be kidding me.

ALISON'S MOM: That's right. Kevin. She's Mrs. Kevin Bannister. She lives in Australia.

ROB: Alison's.

ALISON'S MOM: Really.

ROB: Long time ago. I was just thinking about her. I was her first boyfriend.

ROB: Do I know you?

ALISON'S MOM: I don't know.

ROB: Like fuck you are.

BARRY: Laura said we could. If we helped out with the posters and stuff. And we did. And we are.

ROB: I'll give you 10% of the door if you don't play.

BARRY: We're getting that anyway.

ROB: What is she doing? Okay, 20%.

BARRY: No. We need the gig.

ROB: 110%. That's my final offer. I'm not kidding. That's how much it means to me not to hear you play.

BARRY: We're not as bad as you think, Rob.

ROB: You couldn't be. Look, Barry. There's going to be people from Laura's work there, people who own dogs and babies and Tina Turner albums. How are you going to cope with them?

BARRY: We're not called Barrytown anymore, by the by. They got sick of the Barry/Barrytown thing. We're called SDM. Sonic Death Monkey.

ROB: Sonic Death Monkey.

BARRY: What do you think? Dick likes it.

ROB: Barry, you're over thirty years old. You owe it to yourself and your friends and to your parents not to sing in a group called Sonic Death Monkey.

BARRY: I owe it to myself to go right to the edge, Rob, and this group does exactly that. Over the edge, in fact.

ROB: You'll be going over the fucking edge if you come anywhere near me next Friday night.

BARRY: That's what we want. Reaction. And if Laura's bourgeois lawyer friends can't take it, then fuck 'em. Let 'em riot, we can handle it. We'll be ready.

BARRY: What the fuck is that?

ROB: What?

BARRY: I heard you, man. Don't give me that "what" shit. You just told them that you're gonna put out a record with them.

ROB: So? You even said they're good.

BARRY: HELLO. DO YOU SEE ANYONE ELSE around here with a band, Mr. Branson? Mr. Phil Spector?

BARRY: The little skate-fuckers.

ROB: No way.

BARRY: Yes way. It's really...

ROB: It was Jan, and it was a long time after--

BARRY: Whatever. Okay. "Tell Laura I Love Her." That'd bring the house down. Laura's mom could sing it.

ROB: Fuck off, Barry.

BARRY: I'd want "One Step Beyond" by Madness. And "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

ROB: Because it's in The Big Chill.

BARRY: Haven't seen it.

ROB: Liar. We saw it in the Lawrence Kasdan double-bill with Body Heat.

BARRY: Oh. Right. But I'd forgotten about that. I wasn't biting the idea.

ROB: Not really.

BARRY: What's up?

ROB: Laura. Her dad died.

BARRY: Ooh. Drag.

ROB: Isn't it?

BARRY: That was one of the reasons they asked me to join originally, yes. But --

ROB: Great! That's fucking great! They only asked you to sing because of your name! You can stick it above the browser racks over there.

BARRY: How many tickets can I put you down for?

ROB: None. Christ!

BARRY: You're not even coming?

ROB: Of course I'm not coming. Do I look like I'd want to listen to some terrible experimental racket played in some hideous cave? Where is it? The fucking Bucktown Pub? Ha!

BARRY: So much for friends, then. You're a bitter bastard, Rob, you know that?

ROB: Bitter? Because I'm not in Barrytown? You should be shot like a lame horse, you jerk. Just keep that out of my window.

BARRY: Hey.

ROB: What the fuck is that?

BARRY: My band.

ROB: What band?

BARRY: The band that found me and asked me to join.

ROB: You are not in a band, Barry. You are not a musician. And no posters.

BARRY: Thanks for your support, Rob. Really appreciate it.

ROB: Barrytown. Barrytown? Is there no end to your arrogance?

BARRY: I didn't make up the name. It's the Steely Dan song. And it was in The Commitments.

ROB: You can't be called Barry and sing in a group called Barrytown.

BARRY: They were fucking called that before I was in it, okay? It wasn't my idea.

ROB: That's why you got the gig, isn't it?

ROB: Don't be sad, Barry. You'll find true love someday.

BARRY: Suck my ass.

ROB: Terrific.

ROB: Shut the fuck up, Barry.

BARRY: Yeah, you would say that, wouldn't you? You two have to stick together now. Boners United. United in getting some.

BARRY: Un-fucking-believable. Dick's out on a hot date, Rob's boning Marie LaSalle, and the best-looking and most intelligent of all of us isn't getting anything at all.

ROB: How do you know about that?

BARRY: Oh come on, Rob. What am I, an idiot? I'm more bothered by Dick's thing. How did this happen, Dick? What rational explanation can there possibly be? What's her name?

BARRY: Fine by me. I still want pay to 7 o'clock.

ROB: Ha.

BARRY: I never thought I would say this, but can I go work now?

ROB: Let's pack it up. We haven't had a customer in four hours.

ROB: Why would they care?

BARRY: Because it's a brilliant film. It's funny, violent, and the soundtrack kicks fucking ass.

BARRY: ...But the word "yet..." Yeah, you know what, I'd get the impression that you wanted to see it. Otherwise you'd say you didn't really want to.

ROB: But in your opinion, would I definitely go?

BARRY: How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You might get sick of people telling you you've really gotta go see the movie.

BARRY: I'd think you were a cinematic idiot. And I'd feel sorry for you.

ROB: No, but would you think, from that one sentence. That I was going to see it?

BARRY: I'm sorry, Rob, but I'm struggling here. I don't understand any part of this conversation. You're asking me what I would think if you told me that you hadn't seen a film that you've seen. What am I supposed to say?

ROB: Just listen to me. If I said to you --

BARRY: "-- I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet," yeah, yeah, I hear you --

ROB: Would you... would you get the impression that I wanted to see it?

BARRY: Well... you couldn't have been desperate to see it, otherwise you'd have already gone...

ROB: Just... come on, what would it mean to you? That sentence? "I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet?"

BARRY: To me, it would mean that you're a liar. You saw it twice. Once with Laura -- oops -- once with me and Dick. We had that conversation about the possibilities of the guy making ammo off-screen in the Fourteenth Century.

ROB: Yeah, yeah, I know. But say I hadn't seen it and I said to you, "I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet," what would you think?

ROB: There's something different about the sound of her voice... And what did she mean last night, she hasn't slept with him yet. Yet. What does "yet" mean, anyway? "I haven't seen... Evil Dead II yet." What does that mean? It means you're going to go, doesn't it?

BARRY: -- You're like a little squirrel of music, storing away dead little nuts of old garbage music, musical lint, old shit, shit, shit --

ROB: -- Barry, if I were to say to you I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet, what would that mean?

ROB: Okay. Top five side one track ones. Number one... "Janie Jones," the Clash, from The Clash.

BARRY: Ehh.

ROB: "Thunder Road," Bruce Springsteen, from Born to Run. "Smells Like Teen Spirit," Nirvana, Nevermind.

BARRY: Oh no, Rob, that's not obvious enough. Not at all. Dick, did you hear that?

ROB: Shut up. "Let's Get It On," Marvin Gaye, from Let's Get It On. "Airbag," Radiohead, from OK Computer.

BARRY: Ooh! A kind of recent record! Rob's sly declaration of new classic-status slipped into a list of old classics! Nice! "Let's Get It On?" Couldn't you make it more obvious than that?

BARRY: What?

ROB: What do you mean, "what?"

BARRY: What are you snickering about?

ROB: I'm not snickering. I'm smiling. Because I'm happy.

BARRY: What am I missing? What do you have to be happy about?

BARRY: We're only on the fucking list for Marie's gig at the Pulaski Pub, that's all! All three of us.

ROB: That's fucking great, Barry. We can spend fifteen bucks on a cab to save five each. Fantastic, Barry!

BARRY: We can take your car.

ROB: It's not my car, now is it? It's Laura's car, and thus Laura has it. So it's an ass-bumping double- transferring bus ride through bumblefuck or a fat wad on a cab. Wow. Fucking great.

ROB: What did you tell her about the shop for?

BARRY: I didn't know it was classified information. I mean, I know we don't have any customers, but I thought that was a bad thing, not, like, a business strategy.

BARRY: I wanna date a musician...

ROB: I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home, ask me what she thought of them, maybe even include one of our private jokes in the liner notes.

BARRY: ...Maybe a picture of me in the liner notes...

BARRY: Yeah.

ROB: But now I kind of like it.

ROB: Barry, I'm fucking broke! I know we used to fuck with anyone who asked for anything we didn't like, but it's gotta stop.

BARRY: Bullshit. The guy was going to buy one record -- which we didn't even have -- and leave and never come back again anyway. Why not have a little fun? Big fucking deal.

ROB: What did he ever do to you?

BARRY: He offended me with his terrible taste.

ROB: It wasn't even his terrible taste. It was his daughter's.

BARRY: Oh, now you're defending that motherfucker? You're going soft in your old age, Rob. There was a time when you would have chased him out of the store and up the street. Now all of a sudden I'm offending your golf buddy. You're right, Rob. I am so sorry. How are we ever going to make enough money to get you and Laura into the country club?

ROB: Nice, Barry.

BARRY: Rob. Top five musical crimes perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the '80's and '90's. Subquestion -- is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter- day sins? "Is it better to burn out than to fade away?"

ROB: You just drove a fucking customer away, Barry.

BARRY: We didn't even really have it. I happen to know for a fact that the only Stevie Wonder single we have is "Don't Drive Drunk." I was just goofing on the straight, and it never cost you a penny.

ROB: Not the point.

BARRY: Oh, so what's the point then?

ROB: I don't want you talking to our customers like that again.

BARRY: "Our customers?" You think that Mr. L.L. Bean out there is going to be a regular?

ROB: How can it be bullshit to state a preference?

BARRY: Since when did this shop become a fascist regime?

ROB: Since you brought that bullshit tape in.

BARRY: Great. That's the fun of working in a record store. Playing crappy pap you don't want to listen to. I thought this tape was going to be, you know, a conversation stimulator. I was going to ask you for your top five records to play on a Monday morning and all that, and you just had to ruin it.

ROB: We'll do it next Monday.

BARRY: Well what's the point in that?

BARRY: What are you doing?

ROB: I don't want to hear Public Enemy right now.

BARRY: Public Enemy! All I'm trying to do is cheer us up. Go ahead and put on some old sad bastard music see if I care.

ROB: I don't want old sad bastard music either. I just want something I can ignore.

BARRY: But it's my new tape. My Monday morning tape. I made it last night just for today.

ROB: Yeah, well it's fucking Monday afternoon. You should get out of bed earlier.

BARRY: Don't you want to hear what's next?

ROB: What's next?

BARRY: Play it.

ROB: Say it.

BARRY: "Little Latin Lupe Lu."

ROB: TURN IT OFF, BARRY.

BARRY: IT WON'T GO ANY LOUDER.

BARRY: That is perverse. Do not tell anyone you don't own fucking Blonde on Blonde. What about Television?

CUSTOMER: I have a television.

BARRY: NO--!

CUSTOMER: Well what about the new Echo --

BARRY: Do not get ahead of yourself.

BARRY: It's almost impossible to find, especially on CD. Yet another cruel trick on all of the dumbasses who got rid of their turntables. But every other Echo and the Bunnymen album --

CUSTOMER: I have all of the others.

BARRY: Oh really. Well what about the first Jesus and Mary Chain?

CUSTOMER: They always seemed...

BARRY: They always seemed what? They always seemed really great, is what they always seemed. They picked up where your precious Echo left off, and you're sitting here complaining about no more Echo albums. I can't believe that you don't own that record. That's insane.

CUSTOMER: Why not?

BARRY: Because it's sentimental tacky crap, that's why not. Do we look like the kind of store that sells "I Just Called To Say I Loved You?" Go to the mall and stop wasting our time.

CUSTOMER: What's your problem? What did I... Why are you --

BARRY: Do you even know your daughter? There is no way she likes that song. Or is she in a coma?

CUSTOMER: Great. Can I have it then?

BARRY: No, you can't.

CUSTOMER: I'm looking for a record for my daughter. For her birthday. "I Just Called To Say I Love You." Do you have it?

BARRY: Oh yeah. We got it.

BARRY: Okay, okay -- "Leader of the Pack." The guy fucking cracks up on a cycle and dies right? "Dead Man's Curve," Jan and Dean...

DICK: Did you know that after that song was recorded, Jan himself crashed his --

BARRY: -- It was Dean, you fucking idiot.

DICK: Don't do it, Rob!

BARRY: He's not worth it!

DICK: Anna.

BARRY: Anna who? Anna Green Gables? Anna Conda?

DICK: Anna Moss.

BARRY: Anna Moss. Mossy. The Mossy Thing. The Swamp Thing. Is she all green and furry?

BARRY: Who are you going to see?

DICK: Nobody.

DICK: I can't go to the club tonight, guys.

BARRY: Why?

DICK: He's got one!

BARRY: On Clark Street!

DICK: A couple blocks! About six!

BARRY: We work there!

DICK: You'd love it!

DICK: She shouldn't done it on "The Number Four With a Smile."

BARRY: Isn't her album called "Number Four With A Smile?"

DICK: That's what I said.

BARRY: No, no, no, you said "The Number Four With a Smile," and there's no "The" at the front of the title of the album.

DICK: It's a reference to a Chinese meal in Toronto and I think that there is a "The." But I could be wrong.

BARRY: You can be and are wrong.

BARRY: What?

DICK: Nothing.

BARRY: No, not nothing. What's wrong with the Righteous Brothers?

DICK: Nothing. I just prefer the other one.

BARRY: Bullshit.

DICK: Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels?

BARRY: No. The Righteous Brothers.

DICK: Oh well. Nevermind.

BARRY: Holy Shiite! What the fuck's this?

DICK: It's the new --

LAURA: Hey, Barry.

BARRY: Oh, hi.

LAURA: Where's Rob?

BARRY: The Malcolm McClaren of Clark Street is in his executive suite. Do you have an appointment?

LAURA: What are you talking about?

BARRY: Just that Rob seems to think it would be wiser to start a record label by putting out a record with business- crippling Nazi Youth shoplifters than with someone he knows in his bitter jealous heart is a musical visionary. That's all.

BARRY: "Somebody's Gonna Die" by Blitz. "Bella Lugosi's Dead," Bauhaus. It's got that creepy Halloween feeling.

LAURA: No. No. Mom wants you to come to the funeral. It's on Friday.

CAROLINE: Okay. "Dance Music For Old People?"

ROB: Oh, you know... a lot of people aren't too old for clubs but they're too old for acid jazz and garage and ambient and all that. They want to hear old funk and Stax and New Wave and Old School Hip Hop and some new stuff all together and there's nowhere for them.

CAROLINE: And the new label? And the Kinky Wizards?

ROB: Oh, well, the Kinky Wizards are -- you know what? Why don't I just make you a tape?

CAROLINE: Would you? Really? Wow. I could have deejay Rob Gordon play in my own home.

ROB: Haha. Right. It's no problem. I love making tapes.

ROB: Oh, I'm sure I can manage something... "Sin City." "New Rose," by The Damned. "Hit It and Quit It" by Funkadelic. "Shipbuilding," Elvis Costello, Japanese import, no horns, or different horns, anyway... um... "Mystery Train" by Elvis Presley... And... "Spaced Cowboy" by Sly and the Family Stone. A bit controversial, I know, but...

CAROLINE: Fine. That's great.

ROB: Is that it?

CAROLINE: Well, I wouldn't mind a quick chat, if you got the time.

ROB: Sure, but is that it for the list?

CAROLINE: That's five. So. Why did you decide to deejay again?

ROB: Well it was a friend's idea, really, and the record release party seemed like a good place to do it. So... I should really put a James Brown in there --

CAROLINE: Nice friend.

ROB: Yeah.

CAROLINE: What's his name?

ROB: Who? Oh. My friend. My friend is Laura. A girl. A friend who's a girl.

CAROLINE: "Music for Old People." What does that mean?

ROB: Look, I'm sorry about this, but I'd like "the Upsetter" by Lee "Scratch" Perry, in there. Instead of "Sin City."

CAROLINE: Yeah, well... Let's see... What are you're all-time top five records?

ROB: Pardon me?

CAROLINE: Your desert island top-five.

ROB: Oh boy... In the club, or at home?

CAROLINE: Is there a difference?

ROB: OF COURSE... Well yeah, a bit. "Sin City" by the Flying Burrito Brothers is an all-time top five, but I wouldn't play it at the club. It's a country-rock ballad. Everybody'd go home.

CAROLINE: Nevermind. Any five. So four more.

ROB: What do you mean, four more?

CAROLINE: Well if one of them is this "Sin City" thing --

ROB: Can I go home and work this out and let you know? In a week or so?

CAROLINE: Look if you can't think of anything, it doesn't matter. I'll do one. My five favorite from the old days at the Dodger.

CAROLINE: Right. So. You must have an enormous record collection.

ROB: Yeah. I could show it to you if you want to come over and see it.

ROB: What I mean is, I didn't mean you look young. You don't. You don't look old either. You look just as old as you are. A bit younger maybe, but not a lot. Not much. Just right.

CAROLINE: So. Is now a good time?

ROB: May I help you?

CAROLINE: I'm looking for Deejay Rob Gordon.

ROB: Uh. That's me.

CAROLINE: I'm Caroline Fortis from The Reader. I want to do a story on you.

ROB: Right. Why?

CAROLINE: Well, I used to go to the Dodger on your nights, and I saw you're doing it again and that your putting out a record, and it's sort of a then-and- now story against the backdrop of the Chicago music scene with the emphasis on now.

ROB: Oh. Okay.

CAROLINE: I thought I would ask you a few questions if that's okay.

ROB: Huh. You used to come to the club? I shouldn't have let you in. You must have only been about sixteen.

CHARLIE: It's all kind of lost in the... in the dense mists of time now... It wasn't that I really liked Marco more. In fact I thought you were more, shall we say, attractive than him. It was just that he knew he was good-looking and you didn't, and that made a difference somehow. You used to act as if I was weird for wanting to spend time with you, and that got kind of beat, if you know what I mean. Your self-image started to rub off on me and I ended up thinking that I was strange. And I knew that you were kind and thoughtful... you made me laugh, and I dug the way you got consumed by things you loved... and Marco seemed a bit more, I don't know, glamorous? More sure of himself? Less hard work, because I felt like I was dragging you around, sort of. A little sunnier. Sparkier. I don't know. You know what people are like at that age. They make very superficial judgements. Do you think that's superficial? He was a clown, if it's any consolation.

ROB: Did you tell that to Marco when he did his what-does-it-all-mean thing with you?

CHARLIE: Oh God, no. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

ROB: Hey Charlie.

CHARLIE: Hey Rob.

ROB: Why did you break up with me for Marco?

CHARLIE: Fuck! I knew it! You're going through one of those what-does-it- all-mean things.

ROB: Huh?

CHARLIE: There's been a rash of them, recently. I find it a little unnerving. In fact Marco called a few months back, and he wanted to see me, and rehash the past as they say, and I wasn't really up for it. Do all men go through this?

ROB: C'mon, just answer the question. You can say what you like. What the hell?

CHARLIE: Rob, hi, so sorry I missed your call. In LA on business. You know how it gets.

ROB: Yeah, sure...

CHARLIE: Good. Great. Yeah... Wow. Rob Gordon. Seems like a 100 million years ago now.

ROB: Yeah. A billion. Right... How are you?

CHARLIE: Fantastic but I'm a little busy right now. Listen. Do you want to come to dinner Saturday? I'm having some friends over and I need a spare man. Are you a spare man?

ROB: Uh...yes, at the moment.

CHARLIE: Great. Gotta go. See you then.

ROB: What is this.

DICK: It's Vince and Justin.

ROB: Who's that?

ROB: Can I do anything?

DICK: "Abraham, Martin, and John." That's a nice one.

DICK: I'm sorry, Rob, that's, it's --

ROB: You're a horrible person, Barry. I mean it.

ROB: Don't worry about it, Dick. Barry's an asshole.

DICK: Yeah... Well... I'll see you tomorrow, Rob.

DICK: Well we rang $900 today.

ROB: Yeah but more than that. I'm happy because I'm proud of us. Because although our talents are small and peculiar, we use them to their best advantage.

ROB: I will now sell four copies of Cats and Dogs by the Royal Trux.

DICK: Do it. Do it.

DICK: Rob --!

ROB: -- FUCK OFF!

DICK: Rob.

ROB: Liz, hold on a second -- What?

DICK: Marie LaSalle is in the store! Here, she's here, and now!

ROB: Let's not.

DICK: I want a tape.

ROB: I always hated this song.

DICK: Yeah.

DICK: Or rather, bad news and good news, because he likes this person playing tonight. I mean, he liked Laura too, I didn't mean that. And he likes you. It's just that --

ROB: I understand, Dick.

DICK: Sure. 'Course. Rob, look. Do you want to... talk about it, that kind of thing?

DICK: I've ah... got some other stuff to tell him anyway, so it's no problem. I'll just tell him about, you know, Laura, when I tell him the other stuff.

ROB: Fine.

DICK: I'll start with your news before I tell him mine, obviously. Mine isn't much, really, just about Marie LaSalle playing at Lounge Ax tonight. I like her, you know, she's kind of Sheryl Crowish... but, you know, good. So I'll tell him before that. Good news and bad news kind of thing.

DICK: Are you all right?

ROB: Yeah. I'm sorry... Look Dick, Laura and I broke up. She's gone. And if we ever see Barry again maybe you can tell him that.

DICK: 'Course I will, Rob. No problem. No problem at all. I'll tell him next time I see him.

ROB: Hey. Didn't you steal that one already?

DICK: Can I help you?

ROB: What's this?

DICK: The new Belle and Sebastian. Like it?

ROB: 'Morning, Dick.

DICK: Oh, hi. Hi, Rob.

ROB: Good weekend?

DICK: Yeah, OK. I found the first Licorice Comfits album at Vintage Vinyl. The one on Testament of Youth. Never released here. Japanese import only.

ROB: Great.

DICK: I'll tape it for you.

ROB: No, that's okay. Really.

DICK: 'Cause you like their second one, you said, Pop, Girls. etc. The one with Cheryl Ladd on the cover. You didn't see the cover though.

ROB: Yeah, I haven't really absorbed that one.

DICK: Well, I'll just make it for you.

ROB: Okay.

LAURA: Yeah, I'm fine. I'm off the phone.

IAN: You look upset.

LAURA: I'm upset, but I'm fine.

IAN: Maybe I should talk to him.

LAURA: Mmmm, no. Not a good idea.

IAN: Conflict resolution is my job, Laura.

LAURA: Nothing to resolve, Ian. Let's get a drink.

IAN: Laura? Are you okay?

LAURA: I am fine... I gotta go. Goodbye.

IAN: So shall we leave it at that then?

ROB: I dunno.

IAN: Think about it, Rob.

IAN: Good. So shall we leave it at that then?

ROB: We won't leave it, Ian. Not ever.

IAN: Good. So shall we leave it at that then?

ROB: I've already left it, you pathetic rebound fuck! Now get your patchouli stink out of my store.

ROB: What needs sorting out?

IAN: Come on, Rob. My relationship with Laura has obviously disturbed you a great deal.

ROB: Funnily enough I haven't been too thrilled about it.

IAN: We are not talking jokey understatement here, Rob. We're talking actionable harassment. Ten phone calls a night, hanging around outside my house...

ROB: Yeah, well, I've stopped all that now.

IAN: We've noticed and we're glad. But, you know... how are we going to make peace here? We want to make things easier for you. What can we do? Obviously I know how special Laura is, and I know things can't be good for you at the moment. I'd hate it if I lost her. But I'd like to think that if she decided she didn't want to see me anymore, I'd respect that decision. Do you see what I'm saying?

ROB: Yeah.

IAN: Good. So shall we leave it at that then?

ROB: I dunno.

IAN: Think about it, Rob.

ROB: Can I help you?

IAN: Hello, Rob. Remember me? I'm Ray. Ian.

ROB: I'm an idiot. I should have played the record first. This place is about to get burned down.

LAURA: It's gonna be fine. These people are ready for anything.

LAURA: What are you going to talk to me about?

ROB: I'm going to talk to you about whether you want to get married or not. To me.

LAURA: Ha ha ha. Hoo hoo hoo.

ROB: I mean it.

LAURA: I know.

ROB: Oh, well thanks a fucking bunch.

LAURA: I'm sorry. But two days ago you were in love with that girl who interviewed you for The Reader, weren't you?

ROB: Not in love, exactly, but...

LAURA: Well forgive me if I don't think of you as the world's safest bet.

ROB: Would you marry me if I was?

LAURA: No. Probably not.

ROB: Right. Okay, then. Shall we go?

LAURA: Don't sulk. What brought all this on?

ROB: I don't know.

LAURA: Very persuasive.

ROB: Are you persuadable?

LAURA: No. I don't think so. I'm just curious about how one goes from making tapes for one person to marriage proposals to another in two days. Fair enough?

ROB: Fair enough.

LAURA: So?

ROB: I'm just sick of thinking about it all the time.

LAURA: About what?

ROB: This stuff. Love and marriage. I want to think about something else.

LAURA: I've changed my mind. That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I do. I will.

ROB: Shut up. I'm only trying to explain.

LAURA: I mean, maybe you're right. But were you really expecting me to say yes?

ROB: I dunno. Didn't think about it, really. It was the asking that was the important thing.

LAURA: Well, you've asked.

LAURA: Are you going to talk to me, or shall I get my paper out?

ROB: I'm going to talk to you.

LAURA: Right.

LAURA: Are you worried about tomorrow night?

ROB: Not really.

ROB: I'm sorry I've been acting like a jerk. I do appreciate what you've done for me, and I know you've done it for the best possible reasons, and I do love you, even though I act like I don't.

LAURA: That's okay. You seem pissed off all the time, though.

ROB: I know. I don't get it.

LAURA: They'll go on early. Nobody will even be there yet and I told them they can't play for more than a half hour.

ROB: It's no joke. I'm responsible for what happens, you know. Embarrassment aside, there's a lot of money and effort in this, at least by my standards. I have to put down a deposit for the room. I have to pay the pressing plant for the records, sleeve them, sticker them --

LAURA: We took care of that.

LAURA: I called Dan Koretzky because he --

ROB: Has Drag City Records, I know, I know. You told Dan Koretzky about this?

LAURA: Yeah, and he said it's a good way to break out a record. Especially for what he said, and I quote, "would be a highly anticipated event, locally." He helped me put out a press release.

ROB: WHAT?

LAURA: Just local, of course.

ROB: And the "triumphant return of DJ Rob Gordon?" "Triumphant?" "Return?"

LAURA: I had that idea when I was living with Ian and it was such a good idea that I was annoyed we weren't together anymore. It might even be why I came back.

ROB: You had no right. Supposing I was doing something that couldn't be cancelled?

LAURA: What do you ever do that can't be cancelled?

ROB: That's not the point. I mean, what if the single isn't done in time?

LAURA: Barry said its done.

ROB: Barry? Barry knows about this?

LAURA: Yeah. His band is playing a set.

ROB: You did that deliberately. You knew all along I'd like them. It was a trick.

LAURA: I tricked you into meeting some people you'd think were great. I thought it would be fun to introduce you to someone with a Tina Turner album and then see whether you still felt the same way.

ROB: Hi.

LAURA: Hi. What are you doing?

ROB: Nothing.

LAURA: Wanna go to dinner?

ROB: Where?

LAURA: At Paul and Miranda's. Paul from work.

ROB: Oh. Well. We don't really get along. Paul and I.

LAURA: I know. But you've never met. It just seems like a stone unturned in your relationship with him.

ROB: Ha.

LAURA: All I'm saying is, you have to allow for things to happen to people, most of all to yourself. Otherwise, what's the use?

ROB: No use.

LAURA: ... Like Mexico. Or Jamaica. Or New York, even.

ROB: Hey, great idea. What I'll do is, tomorrow I'll get a hold of a box full of mint Elvis Presley 78s on the Sub label, and I'll pay for it that way.

LAURA: I'll pay for you. Even though you owe me money. We have to do something with the money I earn. I need to. I deserve it. You can just think of it as winning the lottery.

ROB: Fantastic. The Girlfriend Lottery.

LAURA: Money does not matter. I do not care how much you earn. I'd just like you to be a little happier in your work, but beyond that you can do what you like.

ROB: But it wasn't supposed to be like this. When I met you we were the same people and now we're not, and...

LAURA: How? How were we the same people?

ROB: Well, you were the kind of person who came to the Artful Dodger and I was the kind of person who deejayed at the Artful Dodger. You wore jeans and T-shirts, and so did I. And I still do, and you don't.

LAURA: Because I'm not allowed to. I still do, after work. So, what? Should we just break up? Is that what you're saying? Because if you are, I'm going to run out of patience.

ROB: No, but...

LAURA: But what?

ROB: But why doesn't it matter that we're not the same people we used to be?

LAURA: You haven't changed so much as a pair of socks in the years I've known you. If we've grown apart, then I'm the one who's done the growing, and all I've done is change jobs.

ROB: And hairstyles and clothes and attitude and friends and...

LAURA: I can't go to work with my hair dyed pink. And I can afford to go shopping more now, and I've met a couple people I like over the last year or so.

ROB: You're tougher.

LAURA: More confident, maybe.

ROB: Harder.

LAURA: Less neurotic. Are you intending to stay the same for the rest of your life?

ROB: I'm alright.

LAURA: Yeah, you're alright. But you're certainly not happy. So what happens if you get happy? And yes I know that's the title of an Elvis Costello album, I use the reference deliberately to catch your attention. Should we split up because I'm used to you being miserable? What happens if you, I don't know, start you're own record label, and it's a success? Time for a new girlfriend?

ROB: You're being stupid.

LAURA: How? What would be the difference between you having a record label and me going from legal aid to private practice?

LAURA: Look, Rob. If great sex was as important as you think it is, and if I was having great sex with him, then we wouldn't be lying here now. And that is my last word on the subject, okay?

ROB: Okay.

ROB: Oh, c'mon, Laura. Just say something. Lie, if you want. It'd stop me asking you questions and it'd make me feel better.

LAURA: Well I was gonna lie and now I can't, because you'd know I was lying.

ROB: Well why the fuck would you want to lie, anyway?

LAURA: To make you feel better.

ROB: Oh, great...

ROB: C'mon. I want to know.

LAURA: Want to know what, exactly?

ROB: What it was like.

LAURA: It was like sex. What else could it be like?

ROB: Was it like good sex or was it like bad sex?

LAURA: What's the difference?

ROB: You know the difference.

LAURA: Look, we're okay now. We just had a nice time. Let's leave it at that.

ROB: Okay, that's cool, okay. But the nice time we just had... was it nicer, as nice, or less nice than the nice times you were having a couple of weeks ago?

LAURA: Let's go home. Okay?

ROB: Okay.

ROB: So if you had a bit more energy we'd stay split. But things being how they are, what with you wiped out, you'd like us to get back together.

LAURA: Everything's too hard. Maybe another time I would have the guts to be on my own, but not now I don't.

ROB: What about Ian?

LAURA: Ray's a disaster. I don't know what that was all about, except that sometimes you need someone to lob into the middle of a bad relationship like a hand grenade, I guess, and blow it all apart.

ROB: Mission accomplished.

LAURA: I know it's not very romantic, but there will be romance again at some stage, I'm sure. I just... I need you, Rob. That's it. And we know each other and we care for each other, and you've made it clear that you want me back, so...

ROB: Laura...

LAURA: I'm too tired not to go out with you.

ROB: Look, we can do other things.

LAURA: I lived with you. You were my partner just a few weeks ago and now you're worried I might kill you, and you're entitled to worry. Isn't that a terrible thing? Isn't that sad?

ROB: You know, with Ray...

LAURA: Oh, Rob, we're not going to go through that again.

ROB: No, no. It's not... are you still on the pill?

LAURA: Yes, of course. There's nothing to worry about.

ROB: I didn't mean that. I mean... was that all you used?

LAURA: Hello. It doesn't seem so long ago that I looked at you from here.

ROB: Hi.

LAURA: I knew there was a reason I wore a skirt today.

ROB: When are you going back?

LAURA: I don't know. Sometime. Later. Listen, Rob, would you have sex with me?

ROB: What?

LAURA: I want to feel something else than this. It's either that or I go home and put my hand in the fire. Unless you want to stub cigarettes out on my arm.

ROB: I've only got a couple left. I'm saving them for later.

LAURA: It'll have to be sex, then.

ROB: I can see why you say that. Look, I'm sorry. I really am. The last thing I wanted was... that's why I left, because... I lost it, and I didn't want to blow my top in there, and... look, the reason I fucked everything up was because I was scared. I just wanted you to know, that's all.

LAURA: Thank you. I appreciate it. I can't reciprocate.

ROB: What do you mean?

LAURA: I didn't mess things up because I was scared. I slept with Ray because I was sick of you. And I needed something to snap me out of it.

ROB: Sure, I understand. Look, I don't want to take up any more of your time. You get back, and I'll wait here for a bus.

LAURA: I don't want to go back.

ROB: What do you want to do?

LAURA: C'mon.

LAURA: You're soaking.

ROB: Mmnn.

LAURA: You're also an idiot.

LAURA: Are you going to lie in that flower bed all night?

ROB: Uh... No.

LAURA: Look, are you coming or not?

ROB: Yes, of course.

LAURA: Liz'll give you a lift. She knows where to go and everything... I don't have time to talk, Rob. I've got too much to do.

ROB: Sure. I'll see you on Friday.

ROB: Me?

LAURA: My dad liked you. And Mom never told him we'd split, because he wasn't up to it and... oh, I don't know. I don't really understand it. I think she thinks he'll be able to see what's going on. It's like... He's been through so much, what with dying and everything, that she doesn't want to upset him any more than she has to.

ROB: Do you want me to be there?

LAURA: I don't care. As long as you don't expect me to hold your hand.

LAURA: I'm sorry.

ROB: No, no. When are you going home?

LAURA: In a minute. When I get it together.

ROB: Are you alright?

LAURA: Pigsty.

ROB: Don't worry about it. Just get into bed. Worry about that when you're better.

LAURA: Pig died.

ROB: Who the fuck's Pig?

LAURA: My dad died. My dad, my dad.

ROB: Guess who I just saw, right by my store? Ian. In Starbuck's. Neat, huh?

LAURA: I can't talk right now.

ROB: God, that's a cold and a half. Maybe you should bet back in bed.

LAURA: Hello.

ROB: Hey, how ya doin'?

ROB: Don't forget your CDs.

LAURA: Those aren't mine.

ROB: Sure they are.

LAURA: They're not really, though, are they? I know you bought them for me, and that was really sweet of you, but that was when you were trying to turn me into you. I can't take them, I know they'd just sit around staring at me, and I'd feel embarrassed by them and... they don't fit in with the rest of what's mine, do you understand? That Sting record you bought for me... that was a present for me. I like Sting and you hate him. But the rest of this stuff... Who the hell is Nick Lowe? Or Gram Parsons? Or the Boredoms? I don't know these people. I...

ROB: Okay, okay. I get the picture.

LAURA: I'm sorry to go on about it. But, I don't know, there's a lesson here somewhere, and I want to make sure you get it.

ROB: I got it. You like Sting but you don't like Gram Parsons, because you've never heard of him.

LAURA: You're being deliberately obtuse.

ROB: I guess I am.

LAURA: Well, think about it.

ROB: This is where you're supposed to say that you haven't laughed this much in ages, and then you see the error of your ways.

LAURA: You make me laugh much more than Ray does, if that's what you're getting at. But I already knew you could make me laugh. It's everything else I don't know about.

ROB: You know I'm a good person.

LAURA: Mmm hmm.

ROB: You know that I can cook my ass off when I feel like it.

LAURA: Oh ho, so very infrequently.

LAURA: Fix it up. It'll make you feel better.

ROB: I'll bet you can't remember what you were doing here, can you? I mean, how much are you making now? Sixty? Seventy? And you were living in this shitty place.

LAURA: You know I didn't mind. And it's not as if Ray's place is any better.

ROB: I'm sorry, but can we get this straight? What is his fucking name, Ian or Ray? What do you call him?

LAURA: Ray. I hate Ian.

ROB: I hate him too. So I just call him "Mavis." Or "Sissyboy." Or "Mavis the Sissyboy."

LAURA: I'm sure.

ROB: You still together? Going all right?

LAURA: I don't really want to talk about it, to be honest.

ROB: That bad, eh?

LAURA: You know what I mean.

LAURA: I called and called but you were out. I thought I'd be gone before you got back.

ROB: Is that the last of it?

LAURA: Yep. I might have missed some stuff. I'm so used to some things being here that I don't even notice them.

ROB: Those look heavy. Where's Ian?

LAURA: He's at home. Listen, I can't believe he went to the store. I'm mortified, actually. I'm really sorry. He had no right to do that, and I told him so.

ROB: It was kind of funny.

ROB: Are you still in love with me?

LAURA: Jesus. I do not know. I'll talk to you later.

ROB: Think about what I said. I mean, if you want to experiment, or whatever --

LAURA: I'm not experimenting. Why don't you go experiment.

ROB: I don't want to. Don't need to. I love you.

LAURA: You don't ever think about other people?

ROB: No... not really... I mean, I think about it... but no, I don't really think about it.

LAURA: Hello.

ROB: It's me.

LAURA: I figured it was. Where are you?

ROB: I think the big question here is where are you, if you don't mind my saying so, and I think I know where you are. You're running. On the run. You're running from a point that everyone hits in any relationship, and you're just going to hit it again with Ian but it's going to be with a World Music bunny- rabbit-looking earth-shoe-wearing "Doctor Who"-watching twit who doesn't really understand you, not the way that I do and will more in the future, and you'll have just wasted more time and arrive in the exact same place that you're in now, only later. And with... him.

LAURA: I'm not -- hold on...

LAURA: And anyway, I keep trying to tell you, that's not really the point, is it? The point is we got ourselves into an awful mess, Rob... Are you there? What are you thinking?

ROB: Nothing.

LAURA: We can meet for another drink if you want. So I can explain it better. I owe you that much.

ROB: Look, I gotta go. I work too, you know.

LAURA: Will you call me?

ROB: I don't have your number.

LAURA: Call me at work. We can arrange to meet properly. I don't want this to be the last conversation we have. I know what you're like.

ROB: You do, huh.

ROB: You kind of have to start with Elvis Costello, but where? "Motel Matches?" "I Want You?" "I Hope You're Happy Now?" "Green Shirt?" His records should be sealed in cases that say "in case of vicious betrayal, smash glass." "Where Did You Sleep Last Night," sure, but by Robert Johnson or by Nirvana? Maybe a Liz Phair track. There are a couple to get angry at instead of being angry with. Some devil's advocate stuff. The Silver Jews could be good when you're ready to start putting it all behind you... But I think we're getting ahead of ourselves there. Ah. Dylan. Bob fucking Dylan. Now Bob Dylan would --The phone rings. He pulls off his headphones and picks it up but says nothing.

LAURA: You must have known it would happen. You couldn't have been entirely unprepared. Like you said, I've been living with the guy. We were bound to get around to it sometime.

LAURA: So, how are you?

ROB: Have you slept with him yet?

LAURA: I told you I slept with him.

ROB: No, not -- I mean have you, you know --

LAURA: Is that why you wanted to see me?

ROB: I guess.

LAURA: Oh, Rob. What do you want me to say?

ROB: I want you to say that you haven't, and I want it to be the truth.

ROB: Hi.

LAURA: Hi. I've been looking for an envelope of my receipts from last month and I'm thinking I didn't take them with me. Have you seen them around?

ROB: I'll look for 'em. How you doing?

LAURA: I'm sorry to call, but I need that stuff...

ROB: Fine, I'm sure it's in the file at home. I'll call you when I find it, and then we'll talk.

LAURA: We'll talk some other time.

ROB: Great... That's great.

ROB: Well if you could tell me roughly it would help.

LAURA: Okay, okay, we have a nine percent chance of getting back together. Does that clarify the situation?

ROB: Yeah. Great.

LAURA: I'm too tired for this now. I know I'm asking a lot, but will you take off for a while so I can get my stuff packed up? I need to be able to think while I do it and I can't think while you're here.

ROB: No problem. If I can ask one question.

LAURA: Fine. One.

ROB: It sounds stupid.

LAURA: Nevermind.

ROB: You won't like it.

LAURA: Just ask it!

ROB: Is it better?

LAURA: Is what better? Better than what?

ROB: Well. Sex, I guess. Is sex with him better?

LAURA: Jesus Christ, Rob. Is that really what's bothering you?

ROB: Of course it is.

LAURA: You really think it would make a difference either way?

ROB: I don't know.

LAURA: Well the answer is that I don't know either. We haven't done it yet.

ROB: Never?

LAURA: I haven't felt like it.

ROB: But not even before, when he was living upstairs?

LAURA: No. I was living with you, remember? We've slept together but we haven't made love. Not yet. But I'll tell you one thing. The sleeping together is better.

ROB: The sleeping together is better but not the sex because you haven't done it was him yet.

LAURA: Will you please just go?

LAURA: Look. Maybe you'll grow up and we'll get it together, you and me. Maybe I'll never see either of you again. I don't know. All I know is that it's not a good time to be living here.

ROB: So, what, you haven't definitely decide to dump me? There's still a chance we'll get back together?

LAURA: I don't know.

ROB: Well, if you don't know, there's a chance, right? It's like, if someone was in the hospital and he was seriously ill and the doctor said, I don't know if he's got a chance of survival or not, then that doesn't mean the patient's definitely going to die, now does it? It means he might live. Even if it's only a remote possibility.

LAURA: I suppose so.

ROB: So we have a chance of getting back together again.

LAURA: Oh, Rob, shut up.

ROB: Hey, I just want to know where I stand. What chance --

LAURA: -- I don't fucking know what chance you fucking have!

LAURA: Did you say something?

ROB: No. So. Is it working out with Ian?

LAURA: Rob. Don't be childish.

ROB: Why is that childish? Your living with the guy! I'm just asking how it's going.

LAURA: I am not living with him. I've just been staying with him for a few days until I work out what I'm doing. Look, this has nothing to do with anyone else. You know that, don't you? I left because we weren't exactly getting along, and we weren't talking about it. And I suddenly realized that I like my job, and I like what my life is could be turning into, and that I'm getting to a point where I want to get my shit together and I can't really see that ever happening with you, and yeah, yeah, I sort of get interested in someone else, and that went further than it should have, so it seemed like a good time to go. But I have no idea what will happen with Ian in the long run. Probably nothing.

ROB: Well then why don't you quit it while you seem to not be ahead?

LAURA: What?

ROB: What, what?

LAURA: I guess it's not that obvious, then.

ROB: No.

LAURA: I'm sorry. I haven't been very fair to you. That's why I came here to the store this evening. I feel terrible, Rob. This is really hard, you know.

ROB: Good. So. Is it my job?

LAURA: What? Gimme a fucking break. Is that what you think? That your not big enough a deal for me? Jesus, gimme a little credit, Rob.

ROB: I don't know. It's one of the things I thought of.

LAURA: What were the others?

ROB: Just the obvious stuff.

LAURA: What's the obvious stuff?

ROB: I don't know.

ROB: So. Where have you been staying for the last week?

LAURA: I think you know that.

ROB: Had to work it out for myself, though, didn't I?

LAURA: Have you tackled the Great Reorganization yet?

ROB: Don't you think there are more important things to talk about than my record collection?

ROB: Yes. Look at me. Look at our -- the apartment. What else do I have, other than records and CDs?

LAURA: And do you like it that way?

ROB: Not really.

ROB: But Laura... that's me. That's all there is to me. There isn't anything else. If you've lost interest in that, you've lost interest in everything.

LAURA: You really believe that?

ROB: You used to care more about things like Marvin Gaye than you do now. When I first met you, and I made you that tape, you loved it. You said -- and I quote -- "It was so good it made you ashamed of your record collection."

LAURA: Well, I liked you. You were a deejay, and I thought you were hot, and I didn't have a boyfriend, and I wanted one.

ROB: So you weren't interested in music at all?

LAURA: Yeah, sure. More so then than I am now. That's life though, isn't it?

ROB: Hey! Marvin Gaye! "Got to Give It Up!" That's our song! Marvin Gaye is responsible for our entire relationship!

LAURA: Is that right? I'd like a word with him.

ROB: But don't you remember?

LAURA: I remember the song. I just couldn't remember who sang it.

ROB: How can you like Art Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye? It's like saying you support the Israelis and the Palestinians.

LAURA: It's not like saying that at all, actually, Rob. Art Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye make pop records --

ROB: -- Made. Made. Marvin Gaye is dead, his father shot him in --

LAURA: -- whatever, and the Israelis and the Palestinians don't. Art Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye are not engaged in a bitter territorial dispute, and the Israelis and the Palestinians are. Art Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye --

ROB: -- Alright, alright but --

LAURA: -- and who says I like Marvin Gaye, anyway?

ROB: Shit!

LAURA: Hi.

ROB: Hi.

LAURA: I thought I could give you a lift back.

ROB: Are you coming home?

LAURA: Yes. Well, I'm coming over to your house to get some things.

ROB: My house?

ROB: Jeez. He goes on long enough.

LAURA: I should be so lucky.

ROB: You don't have to go this second. You can stay until whenever.

LAURA: We've done the hard part now. I might as well, you know...

ROB: Well stay for tonight, then.

ROB: Enough, Liz.

LIZ: Enough of what?

ROB: I know I can't speak now because Laura's father died, and I just have to take it because otherwise I'm a bad guy, with the emphasis on guy, self-centered. Well, I'm fucking not, not all the time, anyway, I'm really sorry Jo. But you know, Liz... I can either stick up for myself or believe everything you say about me and end up hating myself. And maybe you think I should, but it's not much of a life, you know?

LIZ: Maybe I've been a little unfair. But is this really the time?

ROB: Only because it's never the time. I can't go on apologizing my whole life, you know?

LIZ: If by "we" you are referring to men, then I have to say that just the once would do.

ROB: So the minister says nice things, and then, what, we all troop outside and they bury him?

LIZ: It's a crematorium.

ROB: You're kidding. A crematorium? Jesus.

LIZ: What difference does it make?

ROB: Is Ray going?

LIZ: No. They don't know him. And Ken liked you. Rob, Ken didn't die for your benefit, you know. It's like everybody's a supporting actor in the film of your life story.

ROB: Isn't that how it is for everybody?

LIZ: To think I sympathized with you for two seconds! Poor Rob! Laura left him out of nowhere for the schmuck upstairs. You let me believe that!

ROB: It's true!

LIZ: Rob! Two years ago you got Laura pregnant; you then proceeded to cheat on her! You borrowed money from her and never paid a dime back! And then, just a few weeks ago, you told her you were unhappy with her and were "kind of looking around for somebody else!"

ROB: Well she --

ROB: What's the -- hey, Liz --

LIZ: -- No, no, no, don't even. I talked to Laura, Rob. I talked to her and she gave me a little background. And you're a fucking ASSHOLE.

ROB: Rob here.

LIZ: Hey. It's Liz.

ROB: What's happenin'.

LIZ: You called this morning?

ROB: Yeah. I just wanted to thank you for that message last night. It made me feel like... like less of an asshole.

LIZ: How're you holding up?

ROB: Actually, I'm fine. I'm great. Last night I got to thinking, "you know what? Maybe it is time to move on. Maybe we're just not right for each other. Or maybe we are. But time will tell and at this point I'm going to be fine with whatever's meant to be." You know?

LIZ: Yeah. Like I said, I don't want to take sides. And I like Laura with you. She's more fun, more open. You guys are good together. I just wish you two could, I don't know. I don't think much of this Ian guy --

ROB: Which way are you going?

MARIE: That way. You?

ROB: That way.

MARIE: And so it is. I'll talk to you later.

ROB: I'll call you.

MARIE: Right.

ROB: Would you like me to turn the lights out? Or would you like them on?

MARIE: God, you ask a lot of questions.

MARIE: I'd like it if you could stay the night.

ROB: Oh, right. Alright.

MARIE: Jesus, so much for delicacy. I pegged you for a master of understatement, beating around the bush and all that buzz.

ROB: I use it but I don't understand it when other people use it.

MARIE: So you'll stay?

ROB: Yeah.

MARIE: Good.

MARIE: Tops off two whiskeys and starts into the other room where she sees Rob, standing and holding his jacket.

ROB: I'd better go. I gotta get up early. Go over to my parents'.

MARIE: When I said before that I hoped it wasn't the end of the evening, I was, you know... talking about breakfast and stuff.

MARIE: Are you okay?

ROB: Yes. You?

MARIE: For now. But I wouldn't be if I thought this was the end of the evening.

ROB: I'm sure it isn't.

MARIE: Good. In that case, I'll fix us something else to drink. You sticking to the whiskey or you want coffee?

ROB: Whiskey.

ROB: Books, records, films -- these things matter. Call me shallow but it's the damn truth, and by this measure I was having one of the best dates of my life.

ROB: Yeah, but you know what's his best film and nobody's even seen it?

MARIE: The Conformist.

ROB: Exactly! Fucking ex-actly!

MARIE: You haven't even seen it!

ROB: Nor have you!

ROB: Awhile back, Dick and Barry and I agreed that what really matters is what you like, not what you are like...

MARIE: Yeah, but if you heard this band called the Crumblers, you'd --

ROB: What do you mean, the Crumblers? You know the Crumblers? Nobody's heard the Crumblers. Except me.

MARIE: Yeah, I know the Crumblers! I bought a used Blasters album in New York about ten years ago and somebody left a Crumblers single in it. My everything changed for a couple of weeks.

ROB: You share a place with T-Bone?

MARIE: No way! I'd cramp his style. And I wouldn't want to listen to all that stuff happening on the other side of the bedroom wall. I'm way to unattached for that.

ROB: I understand completely.

ROB: Is that why you came to Chicago in the first place? Because of, you know, dividing up your record collection and stuff?

MARIE: Yup.

ROB: She just wanted to pick up some stuff. No big thing. A relief, actually.

MARIE: God, I hate that time. That pick up stuff time. I just went through that before I came here. You know that song "Patsy Cline Times Two" I play? That's about me and my ex dividing up our record collections.

ROB: It's a great song.

MARIE: Thank you.

ROB: Hi, Marie.

MARIE: Everything go alright?

MARIE: Don't you like that?

ROB: No, no, I love, it's just, thinking you're, you must be so sick of it... Well.

ROB: So you live in Chicago now?

MARIE: Yup. Not far from here, actually.

MARIE: Good. 'Cause I'm enjoying myself.

ROB: Good.

ROB: Hello? Anybody there?

ROB: I'm all right, if that's what's upsetting you.

MOM: You know that's not what's upsetting me.

ROB: Well it fucking should be, shouldn't it?

MOM: I knew this would happen. What are you going to do Rob?

ROB: I'm going to drink this bottle of wine watch TV and go to bed. Then tomorrow I'll get up and go to work.

MOM: And after that?

ROB: Meet a nice girl and have children. I promise the next time we talk I'll have it all sorted out.

MOM: I knew this was going to happen.

ROB: Then what are you getting so upset about?

MOM: What did Laura say? Do you know why she left?

ROB: It's got nothing to do with marriage, if that's what you're getting at.

MOM: So you say. I'd like to hear her side of it.

ROB: Mom! For the last fucking time, I'm telling you Laura didn't want to get married! She is not that kind of girl! To use a phrase. That's not what happens now.

MOM: Well I don't know what happens now, apart from you meet someone, you move in, she goes. You meet someone, you move in, she goes.

ROB: She left. She's gone.

MOM: What do you mean? Where did she go?

ROB: How would I know? Gone. Girlfriend. Leave. Not say where gone. Laura move out.

MOM: Well call her mother.

ROB: She just called. She doesn't even know. It's probably the last time I'll ever hear her voice. That's weird, isn't it? You spend Christmas at somebody's house, you know, and you worry about their operations and you see them in their bathrobe, and... I dunno...

ROB: Hi, Mom.

MOM: Everything all right?

ROB: Great. Super-fantastic.

MOM: How's the store?

ROB: So so. Up and down.

MOM: Your lucky Laura's doing so well. If it wasn't for her, I don't think either of us would ever sleep...

ROB: Yeah?

MOM: Hi, Rob. It's your mother.

ROB: Can I buy this Otis Redding single off you?

WOMAN: Sure. Ten cents.

ROB: Oh, come on! Let me give you ten dollars for this, and you can give the rest away for all I care.

WOMAN: Okay. Because you took the trouble to come up here. And because you've got principles. But that's it. I'm not selling them to you one by one.

WOMAN: With eleven hundred he could come home, and that's the last thing I want.

ROB: I'm sorry but I think you better talk to someone else.

WOMAN: Fine.

ROB: Look. Can I pay you properly? You don't have to tell him what you got. Send him forty-five bucks and blow the rest. Give it to charity. Or something.

WOMAN: That wasn't part of the deal. I want to be poisonous but fair.

ROB: Look... I... I'm sorry. I don't want to be any part of this.

WOMAN: Suit yourself. There are plenty of others who will.

ROB: That's why I'm trying to compromise. What about fifteen-hundred? They're worth five times that.

WOMAN: Sixty.

ROB: Thirteen hundred.

WOMAN: Seventy-five.

ROB: Eleven-hundred. That's my lowest offer.

WOMAN: And I won't take a penny over ninety.

ROB: These are worth at least, I don't know --

WOMAN: I know what they're worth. Give me fifty and get them out.

ROB: But you must have --

WOMAN: I must have nothing. Their my husband's.

ROB: And you must not be getting along too well right now, huh?

WOMAN: He's in Jamaica with a twenty-three- year-old. A friend of my daughter's. He had the fucking nerve to call me and ask me to borrow some money and I told him to fuck off, so he asked me to sell his singles collection and send him a check for whatever I go, minus a ten percent commission. Which reminds me. Can you make sure you give me a five? I want to frame it and put it on the wall.

ROB: It must have taken him a long time to get them together.

WOMAN: Years. This collection is as close as he's ever come to an achievement.

WOMAN: What do you think?

ROB: It's the best collection I've ever seen.

WOMAN: Give me fifty bucks and they're all yours.

VINCE: We saw this ad in the personals for two swingers lookin' for a Renaissance fair.

ROB: Nice.

VINCE: What's the name of your label?

ROB: It's rough. But it shows promise. We record a couple of songs right, in a studio. I'll take care of the rest. I'll put out your record. Any profits after recouping expenses get split down the middle, between us and you guys.

VINCE: Wait a minute. Island Records charged U2 a million five against their overhead for one plane ride.

ROB: We're not there yet, Justin.

VINCE: I'm Vince.

ROB: Whatever.

ROB: Uh, yes I, like, do... It's simple. You make the tracks -- recording studio -- deliver them to the pressing plant where a master is cut, the master is then dubbed to submasters, which are the "mothers," as their called, for each press in the plant. You press the CD's or records, put in your cover art, and that's it.

VINCE: Records are those big round black things, right?

ROB: Fuck off.

ROB: Jesus. That thing's been in the bargain bin for six months! Was it just your criminal nature or what? Hell, I would've given it to you for free.

VINCE: No, we...

ROB: I think you have more.

VINCE: Well we don't.

ROB: I can't frisk you but the cops can.

ROB: Eno import. Sigue Sigue Sputnik. Break beats. Serge Gainsbourg. Ryuchi Sakamoto, Syd Barrett... What's going on here? Are you guys stealing for other people now?

VINCE: Naw. Those are for us.

ROB: Oh really. You two are slamming to Nico now?