Palm Springs Weekend Page #3

Well, let's have lunch at the Riviera, huh?

The Riviera?

Well, what's wrong with that?

Nothing.

Okay, I'll pick you up at noon.

All right.

Aloha.

- Do I pay you now?

- Later is okay.

Haven't got any liquor or firearms

in your luggage, have you?

- No.

- Hacksaws?

Hacksaws?

Last year a roomful of girls

sawed a hole in the floor.

That's a weird thing to do.

Wasn't weird at all.

Right below them was a roomful of boys.

Can't fight nature, I guess.

Room 204.

House rules are on back of the closet door,

but I've got two special ones:

Number one, you come in here

with liquor on your breath...

...and I'll throw you out on your rudder.

Number two...

...no cross-pollination

with members of the opposite sex.

Oh, and I'll send you up a roommate.

I won't expect too much,

but do the best you can.

- Hello.

- Oh, you're a young one.

I'm 21. Would you like

to see my driver's license?

Please, every Easter this town is filled

with 21-year-old teenagers.

Did you come about the job

or do you want a room?

I'd like a room, please.

I have one bed left in a double room.

Twelve dollars a day.

Oh, um...

Too steep for you?

Well, do you have anything

less expensive?

I'm sorry.

Thanks anyway.

Honey, you won't find anything cheaper.

- I won't?

- Come here.

Maybe we can work something out.

I've been trying to get a babysitter

for my son this week.

Interested?

In babysitting?

Well, it's free room and board.

If you want the job.

It must be fate.

I'll take it.

Room 204, up the stairs.

Oh, and don't forget your luggage.

Now, you get all settled

while I round up the little monster.

Oh, he couldn't be that bad.

That's what I keep saying,

but he always makes a liar out of me.

- Thanks.

- Uh-huh.

Howdy.

Well, hi. You're all right.

Oh, I'm fine.

Here, let me give you a hand.

Thank you. What are you doing here?

Well, I figured on staying here.

Well, now that's a coincidence.

Not really.

I reckon if it's good enough for you,

it's good enough for me.

My room's upstairs.

Well, lead on.

All right.

You know, that husband of yours

sure drives like a Texas twister.

Don't be silly. I'm not married.

Well, then that boyfriend, then.

That was not my boyfriend

driving the car.

Well, now, don't tell me you're keeping

company with that long-eared fuzzy one?

I'm not keeping company with anyone.

Sure enough? Well, that's fine.

Oh, my name's Doug Fortune.

Friends call me Stretch.

How do you do, Stretch?

My name is Gail Lewis.

- Pleasure.

- Mm-hm.

Say, you're a long way from home,

aren't you?

No, ma'am. I'm from Hollywood.

- With that accent?

- Well, I've lost most of my accent.

Folks back in Harmony

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