Called me “cute,” huh? — Does he know? Know what? That you’ve been corrupted. — You know I like you, and normally I would do everything in my power to make you feel better. — Want me to come stand outside your playdate? You are lovely. — Dear Upper West Side, thank you for bringing your umbrella. — You’re staring. Am I? Do I have a hair out of place? I didn’t know how to tell you… You’re still staring. So are you. — So, what did you think of my act? I thought it was sensational. — Maybe someday. Before I’m dead. It’s a date. — You want me to go away? Yes. Because I would make you nervous? You would make me nervous. — What, I’m not important enough to go through all of that trouble for? You are more important than God. You paid attention? To you? Always. — I think my show corset turned your head. My head turned a long time ago. — They will know your wit, your intellect, your smile. Your great, expressive eyes. They will be helpless to your charms. They will fall at your feet and worship at the altar of you and your show corset. — You will break my fucking heart. — Lenny, I’m not gonna blow it. I’m gonna hold you to that.
