In Bed

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In bed

Can you hand me my purse?

- Here.

- Thanks.

Want one?

No. Thanks.

What was your last name again?

My last name?

Yes.

You know what I think?

You don't remember my name.

No.

Why do you think that?

People ask for your last name

to get your first name.

A gracious way to ask.

- To ask for the last name.

- Sure.

Or like when you ask

for someone's number

and you hand them a paper

so they'll write their name.

You're wrong there.

Let's see then.

What's my name?

Okay...

We just did it,

and you don't know who I am?

I know who you are.

It's your name I don't remember.

- Same thing.

- No, it's not.

Okay.

Then guess my name.

Constanza.

Fernanda.

Fernanda?

No, Fernandas are like...

Have you noticed

how names describe people?

A friend of mine...

...Ofelia.

She's beautiful...

...spiritual.

Another one.

Beatriz... Classical.

Strong women names.

Guess the name of the daughter

of my building's doorman.

- Tell me.

- You guess.

I'm never going to guess.

"Lady Di. "

Just like that:

"Lady Di Carrasco. "

- Guess the son's name.

- Tell me.

- Guess.

- Come on.

Arnold Sylvester.

- What?

- I swear.

Arnold Sylvester.

They doomed that skinny bastard.

I've got a book on names.

It tells how people will turn out

to be, according to their name.

What does it say about my name?

Claudio.

It says...

Hey.

Claudio is not my name.

Of course it is.

- You're Polo Bustamante's friend.

- No.

- Claudio.

- No.

I'm Polo Bustamante's cousin.

See? You don't know me,

and I don't know you.

Okay, what's your name?

My name is...

Come on, be serious.

- Jonathan.

- Be serious!

I'm serious.

My name is Jonathan.

Jonathan?

My name's Bruno.

- And you are...?

- Daniela.

- Hi.

- Hi.

No, shake strongly.

Don't you hate weak handshakes?

It gives me the creeps! I had

a teacher who shook hands like that.

Stop, it's gross! Don't!

I like a woman with a firm

strong handshake. Come on.

I don't want to.

Come on, do it.

Use all your strength.

Let go of me!

Stop.

Strange circumstances...

You a**hole!

No, let go.

Okay, stop it!

We should remove the quilt.

Why so?

You know how many people

come to motels?

The number of germs

on this quilt?

I wish they were just germs.

- What do you mean?

- There are other things.

What else?

Hair, nails, skin.

Don't be disgusting!

At least the sheets are clean.

I once went through a phase

where I'd clean everything.

Everything repulsed me:

Door knobs, forks,

using a phone after somebody else.

I carried a cloth and alcohol.

I could only use my own bathroom.

- Still carry that cloth?

- No.

That was before. When my parents

were going through their divorce.

I pretended to keep everything

clean and neat.

In order to make amends, I guess.

About relationships?

That sort of thing?

As a compensation.

Your parents...

...why did they split up?

One day my Mom followed Dad

to some apartment.

There she talked to the doorman

and found out

that the man who had been

her husband for 32 years

had a double life.

Then you started cleaning?

Yeah.

I don't know.

I'm squeamish.

I hate germs.

In that case, you shouldn't kiss.

Do you realize that there's nothing

as germ-infested as a kiss?

Seriously. One ml of saliva

carries more germs than...

- Than what?

- I don't know.

- Eating poop is less gross.

- Yuck!

Anyway, this motel is decent.

Once I thought about putting up

a motel with a friend.

It's a very lucrative business.

I was wondering

if anyone died on this bed.

Maybe an old man,

from a heart attack.

Or lovers who killed each other

for love.

In such case,

there are lots of myths.

There's the condom under the bed.

Or the camera hidden

in the air-conditioner.

Would you look under the bed?

- Are you serious?

- Yes.

I'll die if there's a condom there.

- There's one, but it's been used.

- Don't touch it.

We don't know

what kind of people come here.

People holding illegal relations.

Or casual relations.

People like us.

The boss and his secretary.

Classmates

after a ten-year reunion.

Have you been here a lot?

A couple of times.

Two times, considering this one?

No. This is the third time.

Tell me about the other two.

No way!

Why would you want to know?

I want to know who you are.

By knowing my sexual behavior?

Have it your way.

The first time

I came here with a guy I liked.

I was at the beach,

and he called me from Santiago

to invite me to the movies.

I got in my car and returned here.

We went to the movies.

Have you ever been inspired?

When you say the right things?

When you seem to have a script

backing you, and you're in control?

Well, that was the way I felt.

I had a nice tan.

I felt comfortable.

I had liked him for years,

since we were in school.

And now there he was, in my car.

Then I f***ed him.

He wasn't up to my expectations.

But then and there

I reached a mile-stone.

Did you ever see him again?

He's an obstetrician

and lives in the South.

He's got five kids,

so they tell me.

A world-class bore.

And your second time?

My second time in a motel

was with Rodrigo.

Your boyfriend?

We were fighting

when we got here.

We laid on the bed

without even touching each other.

We argued a lot.

I ended up crying.

Then he paid, and we left.

What was the argument about?

He lied to me.

He had an affair with a chick

that worked for his dad.

He told me that nothing

ever happened,

but he had her number

in his cell phone.

And she phoned him

in the middle of our fight.

He started with his nonsense.

He's a compulsive liar.

It's like a disease.

Did you break up with him?

No.

May I have the remote?

Just porn channels, I'm sure.

There was another time, too.

What?

How?

Tell me.

He was a hitchhiker.

It happened in Chilln.

How's that?

I had tried to break up with Rodrigo

something like 20 times.

And couldn't.

Well, one day,

after a huge fight, we broke up.

Seriously.

I did some thinking then.

I decided to use

all my vacation time,

changed my cell phone number.

I excluded him from every directory.

I had to get away from the city.

I told my grandma I was going

to the beach with a girlfriend,

but it was a lie.

I went South.

When my bus was near Chilln,

it stopped.

I went out for a smoke.

Then a guy approached me

and asked for a light.

I handed him my lighter.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

I put out my cigarette

and left with him.

Really?

We went to a motel.

There we kissed each other.

I'm sure he noticed

how nervous I was.

He asked me what was the matter.

And I told him about Rodrigo.

He did something

Rodrigo never would.

He put me to bed, fixed my covers,

touched my hair,

and told me a story

till I fell asleep.

He was a complete stranger.

Someone I had no ties with,

whatsoever.

And he treated me as if I were

the most important thing to him.

Can we turn down

the air-conditioner?

I'm cold.

Did you see that movie?

No.

I've got a theory about movies.

There's a common memory

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