The Pope of Greenwich Village Page #3

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of cognacs like gentlemen!

Hey, let me tell you something.

I don't have time to sit

and watch the sun come up.

Capisce? I don't have time.

I could teach another aerobics class.

There's some models

trying out for a commercial.

It would mean a few

extra dollars next week.

Great. Oh, Wallach's wants 300.

Or they're gonna give it

to a collection agency.

We can cut back a little, too.

We eat out a lot more than we have to.

- You gonna cook?

- I can cook.

You can cook. You can't cook.

I don't f***ing believe this.

I don't... I don't believe this.

She's got 11 months'

worth of parking tickets here.

- The f***ing b*tch.

- Who?

Who? Cooky. Who else? Cooky.

She's still got the Buick in my name.

God damn it.

Let her pay them. It's only fair.

How can you say "Let her pay"?

Every penny that she gets comes from me.

Jesus Christ! It's almost two grand.

She must be parking

on the f***ing sidewalk.

- Take the car back.

- Take the car back.

She got three brothers

who belong in a zoo.

I take the car back,

they'll start a war over that thing.

- So what are you gonna do?

- I'll manage.

So what are you talking about then?

Why you being such a cooze, huh?

Was that an accident?

Huh? Was that an accident?

- I don't think so.

- Jesus Christ.

Why did you do that?

I'm sorry.

You can hit.

Finding a job will pick you up.

You'll get your reflexes back.

I think I already got my reflexes back.

The summer wind

Came blowing in

From across the sea

It lingered there

To touch your hair

And walk with me

All summer long

We sang a song

And then we strolled that golden sand

Two sweethearts

And the summer wind

Like painted kites

Those days and nights

They went flying by

The world was new

Beneath a blue umbrella sky...

Hey, Charlie Moran.

How the hell are you, huh?

- How you doing?

- What's happening, baby?

- I'm not doing any good in there.

- You know anybody who does?

- So what's happening? How's Cooky?

- Cooky's history.

- I'm sorry.

- It's all right. Don't worry.

So, what's happening with you?

What are you doing?

- Waiting.

- You're waiting? For what?

Work.

Charlie, I'm not gonna

bullshit with you now.

I swear to God, business is off with me.

I'm down 35% on my dinners.

You're up against a wall,

you come in by me,

I put you out on the floor

a couple of shifts a week.

You work as a waiter, okay?

- Work as a waiter?

- Yeah.

- I look like a waiter to you, huh?

- No. I'm offering you a job.

- You want to put me on as a waiter?

- Gonna get mad at me over this?

- I offer you a job...

- I wouldn't work in your restaurant...

- Do me a favor. Go f*** yourself, okay?

- Hey.

F***ing creep, you!

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