Red Shoe Diaries Page #5

you could have been a star,

you could have been out of the shoe|business into the show business.

You could have chicks raining|down on you. Gaggles of them.

Litters of them. Covens.|Choirs, Phalanxes. xxxxxxxxxxxx

You're a f***ing shoe salesman,|you get down on your knees

and you look up their skirts,|that's all you do.

Get a real job, punk!

You mother f***er. Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!

I miss her so much.

She would always tell me|that I was okay.

And that was pretty tough.

No.

I'm in love with a lady who|wears two hundred dollar shoes.

She was never a chick.

She was a always a lady.

Doctor, lawyer,|Indian chief.

House in suburbs,|Mercedes coupe.

And now she's probably married,

pregnant, starting to turn fat.

Yes.|- Yes.

That's where I found her,

in that room.

Do you think that's all I'll|ever be, a shoe salesman?

Don't answer that.

Oh, Jake.

The f***ing bastard. F*** you!

Come on out!|- Stop it!

What are you doing?|Don't! Don't!

I'm sorry. I just need to be alone.|I'm sorry.

Can you girls go? Please?|- Yes, sure.

I had a good time.|- Ingrid, did you see my bag?

Thank you girls. Come.

My friend.|- What?

I have to get my friend.|- Where you going? No.

Okay, get your friend.

I'm gonna stay. I think I'd just stay.|- With him and you. - No.

I really think I should. - No.|- You're do something, I know you are.

No, Marlene.|I'm fine.

I'm fine. - Don't f***ing lie to me.|- I'm not lying.

Please. - Promise?|- Look. I'm fine. I'll call you.

You'll call me? - I'll call you.|- Sure, I'll call you.

I'm fine. - I'll call you|in ten minutes. - Okay.

Would you please hurry up?|You gotta go outside.

Heidi, come.|- Tom?

No Tom, no more Tom.|- Good night.

Tom? Tom?

Tom, this is me and you, Tom.

Come on out, Tom.

It's me and you, Tom.

One-on-one.

What's this about?

What do you want from me?

Put them on, b*tch.

Where is she, motherf***er?

Where is she?

Where is she?

She's dead.

She killed herself.

This is Alex's stuff.

I loved your dauther.

I know you did.

It's not your fault.

Yes, it is.

Joey, can I get some quarters,|please?

Hi, I'd like to take out an ad|in your Personals column.

Women, do you keep a diary?

Have you been betrayed?|Have you betrayed another?

Man 35, wounded and alone,

recovering from loss of|once-in-a-lifetime love,

looking for reasons why.

Willing to pay top|dollar for your experiences.

Please send diaries to Red Shoes,

P.O. BOX 7956-319,

Canoga Park, California 90309.

All submissions strictly confidential.

Thank you.

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