Original subtitles

Was everything to your liking, sir? It was great. It was the best duck I've

had. Oh, I'm so pleased.

Too bad you had to eat it all alone.

Couldn't get a date, huh?

Excuse me?

Well, you seem like such a nice man, and there are so many lonely single women

in this city. I'm sure you could have found one to have dinner with if you

hard enough.

Look, miss, I like eating alone. I like doing a lot of things alone. And not

that it's any of your business, but I'm not looking for a woman.

I'm gay.

Oh, you are not.

Oh, yes, I am.

I'm telling you, I'm gay.

Well, fine, then you should be having dinner with a lonely single man.

There's one right over there.

Hello, sir. May I be so bold as to ask if you're gay?

Because if you are, this nice man is gay, and what are two nice gay men doing

eating all alone in New York City? Go.

Pull these tables together. Come on, make it happen.

I just love making matches.

Look, Nadine, I'm a private participant in this place, and you keep chasing

people out of here. Now, the customers don't want you sticking your nose in

their business. You are wrong. People enjoy a friendly chat with their server.

It makes them feel welcome.

Oh, yeah? Is that why Table 6 is pretending to be deaf?

You try chatting with people. You'll see.

Here's a little bruschetta if anybody'd like to try some.

Oh, man, I'm never going to make any money out of this place. Excuse me. Can

have another bourbon, please?

Wow, look at that.

That is an incredible tattoo. Look at the work on this, Meg.

Let me see.

Whoa.

A 59 Cadillac, right?

There's so much detail.

Yeah. Oh, I'm sorry.

You can have your arm back. Oh, that's all right. It's meant to be looked at

enjoyed. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on here?

Would you like to see my tattoo?

No, no. I want to see the 375 you owe me for the last drink.

I'm chatting.

You know, that's one of the nicest tattoos I've ever seen. I mean, it's not

usual drawing of a naked woman. What are guys thinking when they tattoo a naked

woman on their arm anyway, that it'll attract a real naked woman?

You know, tattoos are really in now.

I did this one myself.

You're kidding.

I got a shop up on Spring Street. It's doing great.

You know, if you like this one, I could do one on either of you.

No, thanks.

I don't go through any discomfort for fashion. I never had my ears pierced,

the only time I'd wear pantyhose is if I were robbing a liquor store.

Don't worry.

There's no needles.

No pain at all. Believe it or not, this is not a permanent tattoo.

I just draw it on with pen and ink. It lasts about a week.

You're kidding. It looks so real.

God, that would be kind of fun, wouldn't it, to get a tattoo?

Oh, come on. You would do that.

Well, there's something very sexy about it.

Wait a minute. What's going on here? You're talking about getting a tattoo,

Walt?

Maybe. The only woman I ever knew that had a tattoo was a TV repairwoman that

came to the house when I was a kid. Beat me up for playing with her tube kit.

Wally, are you actually considering getting a tattoo? Oh, you are so wild.

The wildest thing I ever did was wear an off -the -shoulder sweater when I took

my car to the Jiffy Lube.

I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking. You know, those mechanics are

already primed from the heat and the grease and the pinups of those girls

straddling the shock absorbers.

Let me ask you something.

I'm going to a party Monday night, and I'm wearing this sleeveless dress.

If I came into your shop Monday morning, could you put something really nice on

my upper arm? In less than an hour.

Here's my card.

Great. I'm going to do it. And if I like it, I might even make it permanent.

What?

No, I'm going for it.

I just have to decide what to get.

Maybe a picture of a high heel or a woman riding Pegasus.

I'm telling you, white middle -class women have way too much time on their

hands.

Wait till he sees this.

I don't know. Maybe I should have gone with the black widow. But I didn't have

time for the web.

Hi.

You look great.

I'm just about ready.

Good. Publisher throws this dinner party once a year, and aside from being about

the dullest thing you'll ever go to, he docks you if you're late.

So, let me ask you.

Do you notice anything different?

Oh, man, you know how I hate to play this game, because if I'm wrong, we get

a big fight.

Wait a minute. I got it.

It's the dress.

That's when we picked out together.

Right. Thank God. But there's something else.

Come on, you're supposed to be a journalist.

You're supposed to be observant.

You know, Wally, it's getting late.

Wait a minute, what's that?

That lipstick on your arm? No.

Well, let me ask you this. Is that your arm? Yes, Jeff.

Well, somebody put a tattoo on it. Yeah.

Pretty sexy, huh?

Sexy?

Sexy? To who, Wally?

The guy at the state fair with three teeth who operates the Tilt -A -Whirl?

Oh, for God's sakes, Jack, it's just a tattoo. A lot of women are getting them

now. Model, actress. Oh, that makes a big difference. It's not like those

fall for every ridiculous fad that comes along.

Jack, I don't understand this reaction.

It's a little drawing on my upper arm. It's a tattoo.

I mean, there are certain people I do not picture with a tattoo. And you,

are one of them.

What is that supposed to mean? It's not you.

Look, Wally, I'm a journalist.

I made a choice in life. I don't get to be a journalist and a cowboy.

Look, I wear tweed jackets like this and comfy shoes.

You know, I don't go around wearing spurs and chaps and pushing people on

subway going, get along, little doggies.

This is unbelievable.

You realize, of course, that you have no right to tell me what I should or

shouldn't do or who I can and can't be.

I can get a tattoo. I can get more than one if I want to. And maybe I will.

Oh, good. You do that. But I'm telling you something right now.

My idea of an intimate experience is not playing Where's Waldo and My

Girlfriend's Back.

Why are you being so old -fashioned?

Hey, look, Wally.

I fell in love with a certain person who runs her own restaurant, still looks

great in knee socks, and smells like soap. I mean, some things should never

change.

Remember Al Pacino in Godfather 3 with that stupid crew cut?

I could not enjoy that movie because the whole time all I'm thinking is, what

the hell's with the crew cut, Al?

Do you see what I'm saying here, Wally?

Yes, that you want to put me in a block of Lucite so you can preserve me and put

me on your mantle.

You can't control my behavior, Jack. I need to know that even if I live to be

100, which I will, I could still be evolving.

Oh, good.

And what will you be like then? Will there be a pierced nose?

How about a sex change operation?

Then you really will be Wally.

It's a tattoo, Jack.

That's all it is. That's not all it is. You've disfigured yourself, and it's

permanent. Like that one jar of Spanish olives in the back of everybody's

refrigerator.

Permanent.

That's right, Jack.

It's permanent.

So I guess you're going to just have to get used to it or not.

How did this happen?

Come on.

Let's just go to the party.

Here.

Here's your jacket. I'm not going to wear the jacket.

What do you mean? It doesn't go with the dress. It came with the dress. I don't

feel like wearing the jacket. I feel like showing off my tattoo. I am not

to the party unless you wear this jacket.

I'm not going to the party with that jacket.

So I guess we're not going.

I will never understand women.

They reveal themselves layer by layer, like those big snakes in the zoo.

And what's with all this evolving business they're always talking about?

Men don't waste any time with that. I mean, we make our important choices

in life.

Boxer shorts or briefs?

White meat or dark?

And then we pick a favorite team and we stick with it for life. And I can prove

that, too. Otherwise, Chicago would have no professional sports teams

whatsoever.

You see, that's the beauty of men. By the time we learn to drive, we've

evolving.

That way, you always know what you're getting.

And isn't that the way it ought to be?

Well,

Ray, I have the worst luck.

My damn editor wants to send me to Florida to cover the meth spring

And he expected me to be happy. Draw two, Abe.

It's February, Mary Margaret.

Last night it was eight degrees here.

I saw a pigeon with his feet frozen to a doorman's hat.

What Florida?

Sunshine. Happy people parading around in shorts, sipping umbrella drinks

the limbo.

Well, that's sort of the point of the whole state, Meg.

That and the free labor from the chain gangs.

I'm a New Yorker. Abe, look at it outside. The whole city is covered with

thick gray flush.

The other day, a bus was careening down 6th Avenue and splattered a ton of it

all over some women in pleated skirts and Chanel shoes. Am I going to get a

like that in Florida?

Abe, I need a cup of coffee, please.

Well, if it isn't Lydia, the tattooed lady. Let's have a look.

Wow.

You actually did it.

Looks pretty real, too.

How did Jack like it?

I don't want to talk about it. Come on, what happened? He didn't like it?

Let's just say he stopped short of suggesting I have my arm amputated.

Oh, I think it's adorable. In fact, I may get one myself.

Oh, that'll be good. How about a picture of a Volvo with the words, born to

carpool?

I'm telling you, I hit some sort of nerve with Jack. We argued for over an

This just didn't fit into his idea of me. And he said I should have consulted

him first. I know exactly what's upsetting you, Wally. People always want

think of me in just one way, too.

And then they're always so shocked to find out I once played Stupefying Jones

my country club's benefit production of Little Abner.

I definitely want to pursue that with you, Nadine, but...

Maybe later.

When I'm dead.

And my choices will be to either listen to your stories or decompose.

You are cut off.

What is it with men anyway?

They tell a woman they love her because she's so unpredictable, and then they

try to control her. Meanwhile, if we ask them not to walk around in ripped

underwear and a two -day growth, it's suddenly, hey, babe, don't cramp my

Can't let him off the hook on this one, Porter.

Well, this is a switch.

You're usually not on my side.

I don't want you to think we're bonding here. We're simply united against a

common foe.

Well, I still can't believe all men would react like Jack.

Abe, I want your opinion. What do you think of this tattoo?

Too girly.

I personally like a nice steamship, a flaming bull's head, something like

Ray, what do you think?

Oh, you look great, Wally. It's terrific.

Just don't hurt me.

What I don't get is why did he go ballistic if the tattoo's a fake? It's

to be gone in a couple of days anyway.

Well, I didn't tell him it was a fake. You didn't? Well, I didn't deserve to

know. He just made me so mad.

If he apologizes, then I'll tell him. And you better not let it slip, Ray. I

mean it. Sure, Wally. Okay.

Anything you say.

Well, you know, I've known Jack a long time.

Yeah, he can get pretty worked up about stuff, but he's crazy about you.

He's not going to let something like this come between you.

He's probably forgotten all about it by now.

Mr. Kitty.

Barkeep. Chattaretta.

Well, tonight's been quite an education for me about the man I thought I was in

love with.

Jack, or shall I say, my lord and master, is in the bathroom getting ready

bed. He didn't even come close to backing down off his ridiculous

All right, fine.

When he comes out here, I will give him one more chance to apologize for acting

like he holds the patent on my body.

Otherwise, I'm going to have to punish him in the old time -honored tradition.

Of course, I'll put my own special spin on it.

Molly, you okay? You're dressed for ice fishing.

I was...

Cold. Jack, listen.

I've been thinking about this whole tattoo thing.

It's really been bothering me.

I feel I owe you an apology.

Really? When you came into the restaurant tonight looking like Hopalong

Cassidy's slow cousin, I realized how much I'd upset you.

You were right. I should have asked you first. So, I'm sorry.

Wally, I really appreciate you saying this. I know how hard this must be.

You're right, Jack.

It's always hard to admit you're wrong. To say, I'm sorry.

But you did. That's all that matters.

I'm not going to hold a grudge over this.

Good.

What are you doing?

It's time to kiss and make up.

Oh. Okay, I guess we could do that.

Okay, Wally, relax. I'm not mad anymore.

I don't know, Jack.

It's strange, but I feel different.

I guess I can't stop thinking about how much you hate this tattoo.

Okay, okay, but we'll adjust.

I don't know.

This morning I came out of the shower.

And I stood there, naked in front of the mirror.

And I suddenly hated it.

Hated it.

What was I thinking?

I permanently disfigured myself.

I know you're never going to look at me the same way. Why?

Jack, I'll be a hundred years old, and I'll have this on my arm.

My grandchildren will come to visit old Tattoo Granny in the rest home.

I can just see them all now, laughing and poking me with sticks.

Now, Wally, let's not go over this.

It's not so bad, really.

Oh, no, it's bad, Jack.

I don't feel sexy anymore.

I just feel cheap.

How am I going to feel good wearing that teddy you gave me? I know you won't be

looking at me. You'll be looking at this horrible tattoo.

Now, Wally, you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion.

I don't hate it. I'm getting used to it.

In fact, I kind of like it now.

Oh, yeah, I like it.

Oh, God.

This was the... stupidest thing I've ever done.

I hate my body. I don't even feel comfortable being in the same bed with

Good night, Robert.

Good night, James. Good night, Nadine. Brunch on Sunday in the village?

You're on.

They both met Mr. Right.

So, um, how much did we make?

Come on, come on, what did we make? I don't know. You keep asking me that and

lose count.

But don't get your hopes up. We're still in the red.

I keep telling you, you gotta make the food saltier.

You wanna sell drinks or what?

Hi. Hi.

How'd it go tonight?

Good. Turned a lot of tables twice.

How'd it go with you?

Well, I finally got my column done. First two weeks of the Clinton

administration. A look back.

I don't know, maybe I'm impatient, but where are these sweeping changes?

Good night.

Good night.

Look, Wally, I want to talk to you about last night.

Could you stop counting your money for a minute, please? And listen to me for

just a moment.

Look, I screwed up.

I made this whole tattoo thing into something much bigger than it should

been. And now you're upset.

I hate when you're upset because I love you so much.

Oh, Jack.

I mean, you can be such a big idiot sometimes, I swear.

Well, thank you, Jack. Thank you for saying this. You know, I have something

tell you that might make you feel better. Oh, Wally, it's not for you to

make me feel better. I mean, last night you were practically crying when you

were talking about, you know, growing old with that thing in your arm and what

your grandkids would think. And that really got to me because I'm hoping

going to be our grandkids.

I went to Soho tonight and I did something that I hope will show you how

mean that.

What did you do, Jack?

I got a tattoo.

What? You don't have to be alone in this. We can be old and defaced

What? Yeah, I was going to get one like yours, but I wanted to make more of a

statement, so I got this instead.

It's a blue shamrock.

Yeah.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Don't squeeze so hard, honey. It's still a little sore.

It's pretty great, isn't it?

I can't believe you did this.

You couldn't have just sent flowers. That's what other men would have done.

Why can't you be like other men, Jack?

I don't know. I guess I always go with the extra step. That's the kind of guy I

am.

It says Wally on it.

You have my name written on your arm. What if it doesn't work out between us?

Did you think about that?

You're going to have to find another Wally. What are the chances of that

happening?

You're going to be stuck dating some little man with a bow tie and round

glasses.

Wally, don't worry about it. We are never going to break up. I mean, you

talk about permanent.

Oh, God, the pressure.

So, you feel a little better now?

Jack, I have something to tell you. Yeah?

It's the kind of thing that when you hear it could provoke several different

kinds of reactions.

One of those reactions might be, oh, to laugh.

I mean, you could definitely go a lot of different ways here, but laughing would

be the way I recommend.

Because when you think about it, it is kind of funny.

And you might want to take some time to think about it. Molly, you're

blithering. I know. I do that when I'm upset and I've done something terrible

and, oh, God, I'm still talking. Molly, what is wrong?

Jack, my tattoo, it's a fake.

What did you say?

Please don't make me repeat it.

Look, last night, I thought that you were being such a complete jerk, so I

decided not to tell you it was fake because I was mad, and now you've gone

branded yourself for me, and this sounds so horribly lame.

I'm really sorry.

You're sorry?

You're sorry?

You have any idea what kind of decision it was for me to put this thing in my

arm?

Holly, according to Jewish law, a man with a tattoo cannot be buried in a

cemetery. Oh.

So that's it for me.

I'm just going to be laying there somewhere in Forest Lawn, rotting among

bunch of Andersons and Knudsons.

God.

Holly, I can't believe you could lie to me like this.

Come on.

You're putting me on, right?

No, I wish I were.

Look, see?

It's already starting to fade.

Oh, Wally.

Oh, Wally.

You should have gone to the place I did. Mine's guaranteed not to fade for two

weeks.

What? I got you.

You creep!

You creep! You creep! You creep! I'm going to do you a favor. I will not take

victory lap around the bar if you're looking.

When I started feeling so awful last night, Abe took pity on me and told me

your tattoo was a fake.

You're fired.

Yeah, right.

Stop laughing.

You are horrible.

Stop laughing. It's not funny.

You manipulated me.

I admire your guts for going to the offensive now, Wally, but I've got to

you, if you're going to run with the big dogs, you've got to be fast.

You think this is over, don't you?

Well, it isn't, you know.

I'm giving you fair warning, Jack Stein. I am a work in progress, and that is

the way it's always going to be.

Oh, man, here we go.

You know, I'm thinking of going bungee jumping for my 40th birthday.

Oh, good.

The sport of Gentiles.

How do you think the Andersons and Nudsons wound up in the cemetery?

Always going to be trying new things. The sign of a midlife crisis, you know.

-huh. Like this new motorcycle thing of yours?

What motorcycle thing?

Don't try to hide it, Jack. I saw the motorcycle magazine on your nightstand.

It was laying around in your office. I was looking for something to read.

It had pictures.

You're thinking of getting a motorcycle, aren't you? No, absolutely not.

Don't worry, Jack. You don't have to have my permission.

I don't need your permission.

If you asked, I wouldn't give it to you. They're dangerous.

Like me.

I could never resist a man with a tattoo.

Oh, yeah?

Wait till you see me on that motorcycle.