Mister Understood

(offering a toast)
-honey, here’s to three great months. really awesome months.
(she blushes–she might be falling in love–then clinks her glass with his)
-i’m so happy we’re together.
-me too.
-today cindy told me that she doesn’t know if she’s going to phil’s retirement thing, but i don’t think that i will go if she doesn’t. i mean, who am i supposed to talk to?
-sue’s not gonna be there?
-no, she’ll be in washington. state. for the retreat.
-oh that’s right. i remember you telling me that.
(she reaches across the table and touches his arm with concern and care)
-is everything alright? you seem distant.
-distant.
-yes.
-i don’t know. i just had a rough day today. you shouldn’t have to hear about it right now. let’s enjoy our night.
-no, c’mon. i want to listen. maybe i can help but at least i can listen.
(he pauses, the thing that is on his mind reads on his face)
-i just…today, tina, one of my hos–you probably remember me talking about her–was getting out of line and i had to smack her around a bit. you know, i had to do it, but i still feel really–
-what?
-i just feel badly that i had to hit her. i mean, it’s part of it, and she knows that, but–
-what?!
-what, “what?”
-one of your HOs?
-yeah, tina.
-so what, you’re a pimp?
-yeah.
(pause)
-i never told you i am a pimp? no, of course i told you.
-you certainly did not tell me that you are a pimp! i don’t know…is this a joke? … i, i don’t know if–i just can’t think–three months we’ve been together!
-calm down honey, we’re in a restaurant
-i can see that but this is ridiculous.
-c’mon baby don’t react like this. i’m sure i told you but you just weren’t listening. i SAID i felt bad. i’m not a bad pimp, i just had to put tina in line for chrissake. that’s what i have to do. do you know how much easier it would be if i just hit my hos all the time? do you know how much easier that would be? … you’re not a pimp so you don’t know, but it would be a lot fucking easier. i’m not charles manson here. i’m not ice-T. i’m like snoop. i’m a nice pimp. i’m a good pimp.
(she looks at him in total numb shock)
-what?
-i’m done, this is ridiculous. i’m leaving, don’t talk to me.
(she stands but his pleading keeps her from walking away)
-look. i am sorry i didn’t tell you. it was my mistake. but i can change, i will change. if it’s not okay with you, then i totally understand. i am so happy with you, please, at least give me this dinner to explain myself. you owe it to me.
(she sits again and a waiter approaches with their steaming food)
-okay, i’ll stay. but–
(the waiter cut her off)
-excuse me, i’m sorry. but do you, do i know you?
-can we please just eat. you don’t know me.
-no, i’d swear it. sorry, i just–do you go to gold’s gym on 2nd?
-no.
-maybe did you go to ridgemont community college, class of ’05?
-no. you don’t know–
(the waiter lights up, he remembers)
-OH! you’re that prostitute that i bought last week. enjoy your trout.