Factotum

Mr. Chinaski!

Get over here!

- You've got a drivers license?

- Yes.

One driver's sick. We've got some rush

orders. You need to make the deliveries.

Hi, Chi...!

Feeling bad?

I've felt better.

I've probably slept longer

than you've lived.

Chinaski, you're fired.

Do you have a room?

- It's $150 a week.

- All right.

- Are you employed?

- Self employed.

- May I ask what you do?

- I'm a writer.

Have you written books?

I'm not ready for a novel... yet.

OK.

Most guys think they know how to drive.

But in fact very few know how.

They just steer.

Every day I see 2-3 people run through

red lights like they didn't exist.

The lives people live drive them crazy,

and it comes out in the way they drive.

I'm not here to tell you how to live.

I'm here to teach you how to drive.

When can a man

lose control over his cab?

When I get a hard on?

If you can't drive with a hard on

we can't use you.

Some of our best men

drive with a hard on all day long.

When can one lose control

and not be able to help it?

Chinaski?

A man might lose control

over his cab when he sneezed.

Correct.

When you sneeze what do you do?

- Are you Henry Chinaski?

- Yes, sir.

Follow me.

Sit down.

We ran a check on you.

You have 18 drunk and disorderly

arrests. And one for drunk driving.

- There were two for drunk driving.

- You lied to us. You're disqualified.

Could you call me a cab?

As we live we all get caught

and by various traps.

Writing can trap you.

Some tend to write what has pleased

their readers in the past.

They hear accolades and believe them.

There is only one final judge

of writing and that is the writer.

When he is swayed by the critics, the

editors, the readers, he is finished.

And when he's

swayed with his fame -

- you can float him

down the river with the turds.

- A writer?

- Yes.

- Are you sure?

- No.

Why do you want to work

in a pickle factory?

- It reminds me of my grandmother.

- It does?

She used to serve me pickles

whenever I visited her.

- What do you write?

- Mostly short stories.

- I'm half way through a novel.

- What's it about?

- Everything.

- It's for instance about cancer?

Yes.

How about my wife?

She's in there too.

I wrote 3-4 short stories a week.

I imagined how the editors in

The New Yorker must be reacting.

Hey, here's another one from that nut!

I sent most of them to John Martin.

I admired his magazine, Black Sparrow.

Chinaski?

You want to step in here for a minute?

Mr. Gentry is a writer too.

I told him that you were a writer and

he wanted to meet you. Do you mind?

I don't mind.

Mr. Gentry is a friend of mine.

Do you mind if I leave?

OK.

The scene in the office stayed with

me. Those cigars the fine clothes...

I thought of good stakes.

Long rides up winding driveways

that led to beautiful homes.

Ease. Trips to Europe.

Fine women.

Chinaski, what are you doing?

Get back to work, your shift's not over.

- I need a drink.

- No, no. Get back to work.

Over here.

Get off me!

No!

- You OK?

- I'm fine.

I don't need this!

Then I met Jan.

I bought her a drink and

she gave me her phone number.

Three days later

I moved into her apartment.

Jan had a 500-dollar car.

The big trick was

how to turn on the headlights.

Of course we had

the advantage of broken springs.

Jan was an excellent f***.

She had a tight p*ssy. And she took

it like it was a knife killing her.

I want to know what time it is!

You said you'd fix the clock.

All right, let's see...

We set the clock

by the TV at midnight last night.

We know that it gains

It says 7:
30 p.m. But that's not

right because it's not dark yet.

That's 71/2 hours.

Seven times 35 minutes...

That's 245 minutes.

One half of 35 is...

It gives us...

That's four hours and

So we set the clock back to 5:47.

That's it.

It's 5:
47.

It's dinner time

and we don't have anything to eat.

Let's open another jug of wine.

Should I make some pancakes?

I don't know if I can get

another one of them down.

Okay, put the pancakes on.

We're still out of butter.

- Well, fry them dry again.

- They'll be crisp. Real crisp.

It's okay, baby.

What was that?

What is that?

Is anyone in there?

Everybody out!

It's just the fire department.

I finally got hired at

a Bicycle Supply Warehouse.

I had to demean myself

to get that one.

I told them that I liked

to think of my job as a second home.

You play the horses?

Yeah.

Mind if I look at your paper?

Sure.

- My Boy Bobby ought to take the eight.

- And they don't even have him on top.

- All the better.

- What do you think he'll pay?

About 9 to 2.

- What time does the last race go off?

- 5:
30.

- We get off at 5:00.

- We'd never make it.

We can try.

The racetrack's not too far.

- Want to come along?

- Sure.

We'll cut out at five to five.

See, I told you we'd make it!

$200 on My Boy Bobby to win.

My Boy Bobby's in the front.

He's in the lead!

We've hooked ourselves a winner!

Unless some big-ass closer

comes out of the back of the pack.

Come on, Bobby!

- Yes!

- We should have bet another $200.

Come on, let's go get a drink.

The next day some of the others

asked if we would place bets for them.

Hank, we have to take their bets.

Manny, those guys

haven't got any money.

Only the coffee and chewing gum money

that their wives give them.

We can't waste time

at the 2-dollar windows.

We're not going to bet their money,

we're going to keep their money.

- Suppose they win?

- They won't.

They have a way of

always picking the wrong horse.

Suppose they bet our horse?

Then we know

we've got the wrong horse.

I think she's going to do it.

Go, Spitfire!

Yes! Way to go!

- You married, Manny?

- No way.

- Women?

- Sometimes.

- But it never lasts.

- What's the problem?

A woman is like a full-time job.

- I suppose there is an emotional drain.

- Physical too.

They want to f*** night and day.

Well. Get one you like to f***.

Yes, but if you drink or gamble they

think it's a put down of their love.

Get one who

likes to drink, gamble and f***.

Who wants a woman like that?

I bought some expensive clothes

and shoes.

The owner of the Warehouse

didn't look so powerful anymore.

Manny and I took

a little longer with our lunches -

- and came back smoking cigars.

The new life didn't sit well with Jan.

She was used to her four fucks a day

and seeing me poor and humble.

Mr. Horseplayer!

Mr. Big Horseplayer!

I used to like the way

you walked across the room.

Like you were walking through walls.

Like nothing mattered.

Now you've got a few bucks in your

pocket, you're not the same anymore.

You act like you're

a dental student or a plumber.

Don't give me any sh*t about plumbers.

- We haven't made love in two weeks.

- Love takes many forms.

You haven't f***ed me in two weeks.

Have some patience. In six months

we'll be vacationing in Rome, in Paris.

Look at you! Pouring yourself that good

whiskey and letting me drink this crap.

- Mr. Big-Time Horseplayer!

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