Loser Page #3

- You'll get used to the smell.

- Can I get some help over here?

Hold her down.

Shut up.

I could use your help

on a tooth cleaning as well.

You do something with her, okay? Thanks.

Yeah, I know.

I hear you. Boy, do I hear you.

Dora, Victor wants to see you.

It's okay. You'll be okay.

- I don't think this is working out.

- What? Why not?

Last night, Kitty's station, $1200,

Angel's, $1400...

...your station, $600.

But I'm in the back.

There's always less people back there.

You're not getting it.

What do you do if a customer talks to you?

I listen, act interested.

No. You say something funny,

then walk away.

So if they want to talk,

they got to buy more drinks.

- Okay, I'll try and do better.

- No, forget it.

You're too smart or too stupid,

but ain't happening.

It's a shame. Could have made

some real money.

Take this and get out of here.

Please let me finish tonight.

I really need the tips.

Victor, she's working her way

through college.

Did I ask you?

Come on, take it. For last week. Take it.

Man, our T.G. Party was a total bust.

Every time I got close

to hitting it with a mama...

...a girlfriend showed up

to screw everything up.

What we need is a higher female-to-male

ratio, like in cool nightclubs...

...where they let in five times

as many women as men.

How are we going to get

five times as many women to show up?

We have a party,

but we call it a fundraiser.

- Think of a charity.

- It's got to be the right charity.

It's got to attract hotties.

- What's the country with all the babies?

- China.

- Romania.

- No, but wait.

That's going to give them

the wrong message.

All right. How about AIDS?

There's a mood-setter.

How about a suicide hotline?

But do they need a fundraiser?

All they have is phones.

Hey, backpacks.

- What's going on?

- Inspections for drugs and alcohol.

- What?

- Since when?

O'Brien is in a coma.

So?

So the board instigated new policies.

This is whack.

- Can they even do this?

- I'll call my father's lawyer.

Our parents pay a lot of money for us

to enjoy our college experience.

Hey, my metal detector!

I don't know how to make this any easier

for you. It's character evaluation.

It's not unlike one of those

"VH-1 Legend" shows...

...except you're discussing a fictional

character instead of a coked-out singer.

Understand this?

How about this? Dismissed.

Ah, yes.

- I don't understand my grade.

- That's the letter we use for failure.

See me after class.

- Do you have to ask him something?

- No, it's okay. Go ahead.

Professor Alcott?

- Yes.

- Hi.

I'm on a Regents Scholarship.

I have to maintain a 3.5 average.

I can do it with two As and a B+

because I can get a B in Physics.

I can't get less than a B

because I'd only have one A left.

The thing is, my roommates

never let me have any quiet study time.

And now I've had to move.

I have this kind of crazy philosophy

that your grades...

...should represent your grasp

of the material...

...not your negotiating skills,

which are amazing, by the way.

No, I would never ask for a grade

that you didn't think was fair.

It's just that since I have 20 credits

and I only need 16.

I hoped to take this class pass-fail,

so I don't get kicked out.

Sir, I promise I wouldn't slack off.

In fact, I'd work doubly hard.

I'm ecstatic to hear your plans

to work doubly hard.

Because Lit 100 courses are

never given pass-fail.

Why don't you take

all that non-slacking energy...

...and try to focus it

toward your finals. Okay?

Yes, sir.

That wasn't very nice.

I'm a mean son of a b*tch.

When's your next class?

Not till 6:
00.

I'm off at 4:
00.

Okay, but can we discuss something

that I want to ask you about...

...in a non-emotional way?

Seriously, how am I supposed to teach

Camus when you're wearing this sweater?

I think we may have to take it off.

Do you think 4:
00, my place?

I could be wrong, but I think so.

I'm sorry you feel that way

about the French.

It is a course on European Literature.

Can't ignore the whole country.

Paulie.

- Can I help you?

- Correct me if I'm wrong.

Didn't you kick me out of our room

for wetting your bed?

Wait a minute.

Noah didn't talk to you about this?

Look, what do you want?

You thought we kicked you out?

Come on. You're my a**hole buddy.

- Look, since O'Brien died...

- What?

O'Brien, on the 8th floor, died.

They've instituted a new policy where

they're doing grocery inspections.

Making sure no alcohol comes in.

They're doing spot checks to make sure

there's one guest per person.

Just because one guy can't monitor

his buzz all of us got to suffer.

Which is why Adam

came up with this great idea...

...that one of us has to get

an off-campus residence.

- Noah didn't explain this to you?

- No, he didn't.

Maybe I'm the world's biggest cynic.

But I'm finding all of this

very hard to believe.

Paul, why would I play you, dude?

Why? Why?

I don't know why. Why would you reset

my alarm clock so I'd be late for class?

Why would you hide all my clothes

and fill the drawers with Styrofoam?

Why did you glue together

every page of my Psych book?

You know how long that took?

I thought you'd laugh.

That's just stuff we do to each other.

All I wanted is for you to feel like

you were part of the group, man.

I mean, seriously.

Remember those talks about

how nobody liked you, what you could do?

I was trying to help you get in with us.

I was tired of seeing you

sitting around by yourself. Come on.

Can we have a trial run

get-together tonight?

I guarantee you will tap some fine hide.

I have two Everclear tickets for tonight

and I was going to ask a girl.

Smooth.

This is Annie's.

I don't know where that came from.

- Paul?

- What?

Are you hitting my b*tch?

No! No! I'm not hitting your b*tch.

I've never hit your b*tch

nor would I ever hit your b*tch.

I'm just playing with you.

- Because, you know, right? I mean...

- I know.

I knew it was there. I put it there.

- I got to go. Okay? Dust.

- Dust. Dust.

God.

Every part of me is satisfied.

Even my teeth are relaxed.

Oh, sh*t.

I'm late. I got a 7:00 workshop.

- Wait. You said we'd discuss something.

- Yeah, I'm listening.

I got fired from my job and I won't have

the money for next semester's tuition.

What are we going to do?

If I get a job on graveyard shift,

I'll earn money instead of commuting.

- I could maybe just crash here...

- Hold on.

I mean, not even in the bed.

I could sleep on the couch.

No, I don't want to go there.

- Go where?

- That domestic place.

I don't want your grunge gothic-wear

lying around in my closet.

Or those blackhead strips in the bathroom,

posters up of Axl Rose.

Whatever adolescent icon. Listen.

You know how these things sour

when people get too close.

You get tired of each other.

I don't want that ever to happen to us.

You know why?

Because I love you too much.

So much you'd have me sleep

on the street or drop out of school.

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