Born Romantic Page #2

---

- So now he's a mook?

Last week he was a putz.

Why don't you move out?

- This is my house.

- It's my house, too.

- He's got his own place.

- So have I.

That's just fine then.

So will you get out of the kitchen?

I'm having a cup of coffee, so piss off!

We used to be married and happy.

I didn't get us here.

It's not my fault!

Would you say, knowing me as you do,

that I had a fear of intimacy?

Who said that? Her with the big chin

from Gypsy Hill again?

I don't have a problem with intimacy.

Let me explain something to you

about women.

They're a wonderful dichotomy.

For instance:
blowj*bs.

What's that all about?

What pleasure

does a woman get out of that?

- What?

- Do you think they really enjoy it?

De-cheesing a meat and two veg.

To tell you the truth,

I've never thought about it.

I have. I've thought about it a lot.

They don't. How could they?

It's not a thing of beauty, let's face it.

So when a woman says to you:

"What a beautiful cock," she's lying.

Who's she lying to? Herself.

Maybe you do have a beautiful cock.

I can't say.

I suspect it looks like mine and I know

for a fact that mine's no oil painting.

- No one's ever said that to me.

- What?

- The part you said.

- What part?

The "what a beautiful" part.

What I'm getting at is they only think

they like it because they know we like it.

I don't like it.

- You don't like it?

- No.

- Everybody likes it.

- I don't.

- You know what that is, don't you?

- What?

Fear of intimacy.

- Where to, my friend?

- British Museum.

Find your ex then, mate?

- Yeah. How's it going?

- Fine.

No, she likes the Elgin Marbles.

It's a bit of a long shot, but...

All the best. Think you'll recognize her?

I'll recognize her.

F***.

There you go.

Can't have one myself.

I would normally,

but I've got this terrible urinary infection.

Most likely be cystitis

or something like that.

What is it you do exactly?

I look after the graves

for people who can't.

People who've moved city or emigrated.

They hire people to tidy up the graves,

and fresh flowers, and you know.

That's a good racket.

I send them a Polaroid every month,

just to reassure them. Look.

These are my recent loved ones.

Davidson:
Died suddenly.

I hate that, don't you? "Died suddenly."

McDermott, 34:
Cancer of the tongue.

Family moved to Saskatchewan.

Robertson:
He was a fair age,

but what a horrible way to die.

- How do you mean?

- He was on holiday in Wester Ross.

Swimming, sucked to death

by a basking shark.

What?

They don't have any teeth.

How long you got to wear that?

What? This?

I don't really.

It's just... I hate my neck.

I hate my hands.

And my legs and my nose and ears.

Especially my ears.

I'd be happy without them really.

I could have them surgically removed.

You can do that, you know.

They look fine to me.

I better get back to work.

Are you sure?

Maybe we could go to the pictures

or something?

I'm terrible at things like this,

going out with people.

I'm flattered, obviously,

but I'm just not interested in relationships.

What about tonight?

Do you fancy lunch today?

Yeah, okay.

You know what we should do?

Do you like dancing?

We should go dancing together.

What do you think?

I used to go clubbing a lot

with my ex-girlfriend.

She was a great dancer.

You never met her?

I don't think she came into the shop.

I tell you,

I've had a heavy heart since she left.

She was funny, smart.

You know something else?

I'll never meet a woman like that again.

Sexy, gorgeous...

I think about her constantly.

I just want her back, you know?

I wake up and first thing

I think about is her.

Her eyes, her laugh.

The way she moved.

They broke the mold with her.

One in a million. A real woman.

She had this touch...

-Who Is It?

- It's me, Dad. Eddie. Forgot my keys.

Eddle who?

It's me. Open the door.

Eddle's not In.

I'm Eddie.

You're Eddle? I'm Barney.

I've got a son called Eddle.

Is It hlm you want?

Good. There's some half-wit

on the phone for you.

Have you eaten?

Chips. I can smell chips.

Here.

You should phone my mobile.

If you need me,

you should phone my mobile.

It'd be easier if you took the glove off.

Jesus Christ! What happened?

I can't remember.

Come on, let's see.

They'll need stitches.

You weren't stood up.

- There was an accident with my old man.

- It's okay.

I like going to the pictures

on my own anyway.

That's the truth, honest.

It was really good.

It's about this blind composer...

...whose wife's dying

of Korsakoff's syndrome.

Right.

I'm just going to...

Think she believes me?

Do you ever listen to whale music?

Sorry?

I'd like to be a whale or a dolphin

'cause they've the greatest sex lives.

Whales, when they have sex,

have these little ridges...

...which are designed to interlink.

They raise out of the ocean

and come together in perfect unison...

...in a massive foaming eruption.

It's a perfect match.

It's like Sinatra and Nelson Riddle.

What are you trying to say?

Basically, would you like to get shagged?

Yes, I do, but not with you.

If you can't dance, you can't make love.

No rhythm, no passion.

What's your name again?

Wayne!

- Where are we going?

- Your place.

- What is gravltas?

- Noble bearing.

Would you say that I lack gravltas?

Why do you let women

speak to you like that?

It's that stroppy cow

with the overbite again, isn't it?

Have I got gravltas or what?

All men have it to a certain degree.

Some more than others.

Obviously I've got more than my fair share,

but I've got Roman blood.

Thing is though,

I can't be what she wants me to be.

Don't try. Why bother?

They always want what they can't have.

When they have it, they don't respect it.

So, where to?

British Museum.

British Museum?

You like the British Museum, do you?

Haven't been for a long time.

I like the Elgin Marbles.

What's all that?

Dla de Muertos.

What?

Dla de Muertos:
The Day of the Dead.

It's in Mexico.

This is one of the masks.

Right.

It's the masks they wear

during Dla de Muertos.

It's actually two days.

I'd love to go to the Day of the Dead,

wouldn't you?

That's where they celebrate

their dead relatives.

Not like us. They celebrate death.

What's there to celebrate?

What do you want?

I've got a dead relative.

Not recently, it was a while ago.

The thing is,

we need somebody to look after his grave.

Any chance?

This isn't a relative of yours, is it?

You're lying, aren't you?

Yeah.

The thing is...

...I've got a crush on you.

It's more than a crush, it's a stampede.

I've got a stampede on you.

I'm sorry about last night.

I'm not usually obnoxious.

Well, I am sometimes.

You're a classy lady.

I don't normally meet classy ladies,

just broads.

This is Raphael's portrait

of the woman he loved.

La Fornarlna.

Actually, he painted her

over and over again.

She was the love of his life.

When he died,

she draped herself over his coffin...

...and wouldn't leave

until the Pope ordered her to.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes