Drugstore Cowboy Page #3

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a round collar, a scoop neck, or what?

It was a blouse. A blouse.

Um...

I really don't remember.

Dianne, are you

goin' crazy or something?

Dianne, what the f*** are you doin'?

What are you on? Glue or something?

Dianne, look. We ought to be out workin'.

I know this hospital on the coast.

I know it's a virgin. I know it is.

I mean, this place has got security zero.

I bet they got coke, mammy. All those

hospitals, they always hold big-time coke.

You're crazy, Bob. We just pulled off

the best score we make in months

and off you trot looking for more.

Man, you don't know

when to take a break.

Come on, Bob.

You know me. I can't stand

to go on for ever like this.

Come on. Why don't you take me in the

bedroom and just hold me for a while?

What do you want me to hold you for?

Look, Dianne, we ought to be out crackin'.

- I thought you loved me.

- Why don't we just...

But you won't f*** me

and I always have to drive.

Look, why don't we just, uh, uh,

head up to that hospital right now

and see if we can make it there

before it gets daylight?

I mean, babe, you're just gonna

flip out when you see this one, man.

I mean...

I can just see all those bottles of pills

that hospital's holding for me right now.

Up against the wall!

- Up against the wall.

- Don't give me any sh*t. Shut up.

Check the other room.

All right, you two. Turn around.

I said the other day "Bob's slowed down."

Then you knock off another pharmacy.

- Bullshit.

- Didn't you expect me?

- I didn't make no drugstore in years.

- Bullshit!

Look, man, you ain't gonna find nothing.

Just let me phone my lawyer. I'm sure

he can straighten this whole thing out.

- Do I look like I'm using?

- You piece of sh*t.

That's real nice, Bob. Looks

like you're hooked to the gills.

- You got a warrant?

- Yeah, I got a warrant.

Pasted on the end of one of these slugs.

You give me any more sh*t, I'm gonna

give you a good close look at one of 'em.

Whoa, heavy, man. You guys been readin'

too much Mickey Spillane or somethin'?

You don't seem to understand.

Hey, come on. Not those clubs.

Those are my Ben Hogans.

Why you gotta mess with the clubs?

- What are you hittin' these days?

- I got my handicap down around eight.

Eight? Bullshit. Where do you play?

Mayfield. I hit a 75

last time I was out there.

I don't play public courses.

Mayfield is for pussies.

That's why you have that handicap.

How am I supposed to play?

My clubs are all broke.

Have a heart.

Break two more, then leave

the f***in' clubs alone.

- All right?

- Thanks, man.

Dianne, you haven't hid

the drugs in some stupid place

like the Frosted Flakes again, have you?

I don't know what the hell

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