Red Lights

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Just say so!

Shut up a second!

I'm trying to see where we are.

I think we're on Route 182

heading toward Blois.

Sure you won't turn around?

- Furious?

- Me?

You see anyone else here?

Just because I dared ignore the arrow

and we'll make a detour.

- What's wrong?

- You almost hit the guardrail.

Can't I drive?

And get there three weeks from now?

- The lady doesn't like my driving?

- Watch the road.

I'll watch the road,

I'll drive nicely, carefully,

without going off the tracks.

You know which tracks I mean?

You get my meaning?

Is this necessary?

That you care what I think?

It might help you.

- Help me what?

- Help you...

To understand me, for instance.

And in that way...

to make my life easier.

But I doubt that really interests you.

You're far too selfish.

If you loved me even a little, you'd...

- Finish your sentence!

- What's dumber than a train?

I felt like a train on that highway.

I had to get off the tracks.

Understand?

Do all these guys ask their wives

before getting a beer?

You had a beer?

- What'd you drink?

- A scotch.

A double?

- And before?

- Before what?

What did you drink before you got gas?

- Nothing.

- Is that so?

Don't believe me?

If it's true,

then it went to your head.

Think I'm drunk?

You talk as if you are.

Am I talking nonsense?

No, but you hate me.

Not at all.

I can see it in your eyes.

- Why won't you understand?

- Understand what?

I don't hate you. I just wish

you'd treat me like a man sometimes.

And let you stop at every bar?

- Here we go again!

- What?

You always find the putdown.

- Think I'm an alcoholic?

- I wouldn't have married an alcoholic.

- Do I drink often?

- Not often.

- How many times a year?

- I've never counted.

Two or three times at most.

So what's got into you?

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