Standby Page #2

I'm on standby for a flight tonight

or tomorrow, but I need a room.

- Do you guys do that here?

- Just say the word.

Christ! Sorry!

Flynn's Hotel. They have a room.

It's here.

Don't... It's... I can...

Nah. Nah.

Thanks.

Next.

I should get out of your way.

- Happy Valentine's Day.

- You too.

So you do what to this girl?

We worked together about eight years ago.

I was on a student visa in the States.

You love her?

There was talk of me staying,

maybe getting hitched.

Married.

Do you have to do this

with every girl you met?

It was for a Green Card

to keep me working there.

- You were going to pay to marry her?

- Why the hell would I do that?

Jesus Christ! Your English is sh*t!

Be f***ing clearer?

We wanted to keep things going between us,

you know. See if we had something.

- The Green Card was her idea.

- And you f***ed it up?

Why do you think it was me

that f***ed it up?

It's 50/50.

More than likely, it's you, no?

We were both twenty. Okay? Very twenty.

- What does it matter now anyway?

- Maybe this is a second chance.

It could be fate.

- You always say you don't believe in fate.

- Yes, because I have thought about it a lot.

You? You could definitely

believe in this bullshit.

Look, it's not like I haven't been able

to stop thinking about her all these years.

I have. I just haven't been able

to forget her either.

And she is somewhere

out there right now.

I didn't exactly leave things

on the best of terms back in the day.

You should've brought her to your place.

Who know what happens?

She's probably got a boyfriend anyway.

- You're so stuck in your pants!

- I'm not stuck in my pants.

Every day you're closer to dying alone with

nothing but a blanket of sh*t around you.

- A blanket of...

- A blanket of sh*t, Alan!

That's great. Lovely thing to say to me.

- How's the head?

- Grand.

Hola, Beatrice.

I was thinking about our gig last night.

Maybe we need a new band photo.

What's wrong with the one we have?

Well, I just think we've moved on

from our hillbilly goth phase.

True. Talking of changes...

maybe it's time we started

playing weddings.

You want our band to play Sting, is that

what you want? Fields of f***in' Gold!

Come on, man, it's been over a year now.

It's not about that. If we go down that road,

there's no more real gigs left.

And you know that, right?

Is that what you want?

We could all do

with a bit of extra dough.

I've been trying to finish the jacks

in me gaff for the last 12 months.

I don't mind,

but Deirdre's getting tired of the

neighbours watching her do her business.

My sister's got us an easy gig.

It's a grand each.

- I'm not playing weddings.

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