Hitch Page #7

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buying pajamas for my mom.

And by that, of course, you mean...

you were buying lingerie

for another woman.

Yes. You can't help

where you meet somebody.

And the lingerie is for a woman

I'm no longer seeing.

But anyway, the girl I met,

the one I was talking about...

she's so sweet, funny, Southern.

She gives me her number.

Now she won't return my phone calls.

I don't know what it is about her.

I just can't get her out of my mind.

You know, food has lost its taste.

Colors, they seem dull.

Things that used to matter...

I don't know, they just no longer do.

I think things aren't gonna snap back

unless I...

Unless I bang her.

Excuse me?

You know, bang her. Clear my head.

Get in, get off, get out.

I think you may have misunderstood

what I do exactly.

No, I was told you help guys get in there.

Right. But, see, here's the thing.

My clients actually like women.

Hit it and quit it is not my thing.

Let me make one thing clear to you, rabbi.

I need professional help.

Well, that is for damn certain.

And I'm glad you can admit it

because generally that's the hardest part.

You see what I'm doing?

This is what I'm about.

Power suit, power tie, power steering.

People can wince, cry, beg,

but eventually they do what I want.

So that's, like, a metaphor.

Well, I'm more of a literal kind of guy.

So when I do this...

this is more like me saying

that I will literally break your sh*t off...

if you ever touch me again. Okay, pumpkin?

Got it.

No.

Pablo, I can't just mention your restaurant.

Somebody has to eat there.

No, somebody famous. You know that.

- Sara Melas?

- No.

Okay. Bye.

I need your signature.

I hate it when a guy calls a girl

who did not give him her number.

So this is me not calling. Over.

Yes, you're right.

This is much less invasive.

I've been thinking about

that sign on your forehead.

And I was wondering if you'd mind

taking it down for dinner Friday night. Over.

I can't. I have a couple of parties

I have to hit.

Gossip never sleeps.

Not till about 4:00 a. m.

Saturday.

I have a date.

Do you know the definition

of "perseverance," Miss Melas?

An excuse to be obnoxious?

Continuing in a course of action...

without regard to discouragement,

opposition or previous failure. Over.

Okay, Webster, how do I get rid of you?

Breakfast, Sunday.

And you can barely even call that a date.

You do that with out-of-town relatives

that you don't even like. Over.

Come on.

Okay, I guess I could do Sunday.

You forgot to say "over. " Over.

This conversation's over

as soon as you tell me when and where.

I don't do 7:
00 a. m.

- Hello?

- Sign here.

- What?

- You said Sunday, right?

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