Girl: you normally pick up strange hitchhikers?
Boy: No.
Girl: Weren’t you afraid I’d be a psycho and kill you?
Boy: I’m not afraid of death.
Girl: No?  Well, what if it was painful?
Boy: Maybe then.
Girl: How do I know you won’t kill me or rape me?
Boy: You don’t.
Girl: I don’t fear death.
Boy: Good.
Girl: So why did you pick me up?
Boy: Tedium.
Girl: Of what?
Boy: Whatya got?
Girl: My virtue, and that’s about it.
Boy: That certainly would be tedious.
Girl: I don’t, you know.  I was being facetious.
Boy: Mm.
Girl: Yeah, well, where are we going?
Boy: Um… (points forward).
Girl: do you know where (points forward) goes?
Boy: Not particularly.
Girl: But we could end up driving for miles, run out of gas, and die on the highway? (boy looks at her)  Yeah, I don’t fear death either, fine by me.

Boy: Hungry?
Girl: Are you?
Boy: No.

Girl: (uncormfortable) I’m hungry.
Boy: Fine.
Girl: Well, can we get something to eat?
Boy: Next place we see.
Girl: Are you hungry?
Boy: Eh.

*with food.
Boy: Where you from?
Girl: Um…
Boy: Too long, don’t care anymore.
Girl: Okay.  Where are you from?
Boy: Hmm…

Girl: Alright, let’s play a game.
Boy: For what?
Girl: For fun.
Boy: Alright.
Girl: How many types of ice cream can you name in 5 seconds.
Boy: (thinks for five seconds) five.

Girl: Alright how about this?  Let’s offend each other as best we can.  It’ll be fun.
Boy: I’d like to wine and dine you, act as if you’re all that mattered in the world, then take you home and fuck you in a harsh and humiliating way, with no regard for you.  Then leave without ever looking you in the eye.
Girl: Alright.  Well, I’d like to let you try, and then fail, and then fall in love with me, so that I can take what I can from you until you’ve nothing left to take, then leave while looking you right in the eye.
Boy: You lose.
Girl: What?  Yeah, right, like yours really offended me.
Boy: So then I lose?
Girl: Um…

Boy: You tired yet?
Girl: Not particularly.
Boy: Alright.

Girl: Are you tired?
Boy: A little.

Girl: Would you like me to drive?
Boy: Eh.

Boy: Would you like to drive?
Girl: (exasperated) yes, yes I would, very very much.

*get out of car, switch places.

*boy is nearly asleep
Girl: Are you asleep?
Boy: No.
Girl: Are you trying to sleep?
Boy: No.
Girl: Do you want to sleep?
Boy: Eh.
Girl: You want to talk?
Boy: Sure.
Girl: What about?

Girl: We’re almost out of gas.  (pause)  Are you asleep?
Boy: No.
Girl: We’re almost out of gas.  (pause)  Should I turn around for that gas station?
Boy: Keep going, I got an extra tank in the back if need be.
Girl: I’m getting tired.
Boy: You want me to drive?
Girl: No, let’s try to find a place to sleep.
Boy: Roadside is fine by me, you?
Girl: I’d rather a motel.  Actually, I’d rather a hotel.
Boy: Either’s fine by me, wake me when you find one.

Girl: (tired) Hey.
Boy: Find something?
Girl: No. (Boy starts to go back to sleep) Hey.  Hey!
Boy: Yeah?
Girl: Switch?
Boy: Sure.  (settles back in)  In the morning.
Girl: Alright, roadside.

--pulls car off road, drives into desert.

Girl: What’s that noise?
Boy: What noise?
Girl: Outside.
Boy: Outside noise.
Girl: It’s disturbing.
*guy gets out of car

*girl alone in car, concerned.

*girl alone in car, leaves car.

*girl gets into car, still concerned.

*girl falls asleep.

*guy gets into car, it’s morning.
Girl: What happened?  Are you okay?
Guy: Yeah.
Girl: What was the noise?
Guy: What noise?
Girl: The noise you went to investigate?!
Guy: (thinks) Oh, I just went outside to sleep, too noisy in here.  (pause)  What?  It’s not that cold out?

Girl: I’m not talking to you.
Guy: You’re not?

Girl: I’m still not talking to you.

Girl: What the hell’s your problem?
Guy: What?
Girl: Don’t you like talking to me?
Guy: Usually.
Girl: Sigh, fine, I need to walk around.  Can we pull over?
Guy: Alright.
*Guy pulls over, girl gets out.

*Guy sitting alone in car, picking nails.

*Girl pokes head in.
Girl: Well?
Guy: What?
*girl gets in car.
Girl: Nothing, let’s go.

Girl: Where are we?
Guy: Hmm, maybe New Mexico.
Girl: Really?
Guy: Well, maybe.  Maybe Wisconsin.
Girl: Haven’t you been paying attention to the signs?
Guy: Nope.
Girl: I mean, they’re usually pretty big…
Guy: You don’t know where we are.
Girl: Yeah, because I’m not driving.
*pulls over, gets out of car, girl does same, get immediately back in, girl in driver’s side, starts car.
Guy: Alright, where are we?

Girl: Okay, new game.
Guy: Sure.
Girl: You come up with it.
Guy: Um…  Let’s pretend we’re being chased by crazed maniacs.
Girl: Where?
Guy: Behind you, oh no, they’re shooting at us.
*Pushes her head down.
Girl: Hey!
Guy: Don’t worry, I’ll steer, just keep hitting the gas.
*Moves the wheel around vigorously, bobbing his head down.  He slumps on her, turning wheel, car goes off the road.
Girl: What’s happening?  (pause)  What’s happening?
Guy: I’ve been shot, and you’re about to go off the canyon edge.
*she tries to get him off her, raises head alarmed.  Slams on breaks.  Stunned.
Girl: I don’t think I like your game.
*she laughs.  He laughs.  She jumps him and starts making out.

*guy is now driving.
Guy: You want to do that again?
Girl: Which part?
Guy: Either.
Girl: Not really…  Later, maybe.
Guy: Which part?

Girl: So what does this mean?
Guy: What does what mean?
Girl: Sigh, I’ll be explicit then.  We just had sex.  We were strangers.  We still are pretty much.  But what else are we, now?
Guy: What, you mean to each other?
Girl: Yeah.
Guy: Hmm…
Girl: You think we’re still strangers?
Guy: I don’t know, depends on what you consider enough to get to know someone.
Girl: You love me?
Guy: N—[no]
Girl: --Because I don’t love you.
Guy: Oh, in that case, yes.  Desperately.
Girl: Oh, well, I guess I love you too.
Guy: Well, now I don’t.
Girl: Well, then I don’t.
Guy: Th—[then I do]
Girl: We’re not going to get anywhere this way.
Guy: I’m indifferent.
Girl: Me too.
Guy: Good.

Girl: Sigh, I’m bored.

Girl: Sigh!

Girl: Well, it’s later.
*pushes her head down.
Guy: Get down!
*She gets up.
Girl: No.
Guy: Oh.  The other part?
Girl: Maybe.
Guy: So maybe there’s crazed maniacs?
Girl: No, as in maybe the other part.
Guy: Oh. (confused, pause)
Girl: I mean you can start, and we’ll see.
Guy: Oh.
*pulls over.  Gives her a passionate kiss.
Guy: So?
Girl: Um…  What if I say no?
Guy: Eh.
Girl: (thinks) No.
*gets over, starts car.
Girl: No wait.
Guy: What?
Girl: Why did you stop kissing me?
Guy: You want me to rape you?
Girl: No! I…  Do you like kissing me?
Guy: Yes.
Girl: Even if it doesn’t lead to sex?
Guy: Yes.
Girl: Well, then why did you stop?
*she jumps him.

Girl: You know, I didn’t have to have sex with you.
Guy: Um…
Girl: I chose to.
Guy: I know.
Girl: But it won’t always happen that way.  (pause)  In fact, we may never even kiss again.  (pause)  What do you think of that?
Guy: Will there ever be crazed maniacs?
Girl: Probably not.
Guy: Fine.
Girl: Good.

Girl: I’m bored.
Guy: Hmm.  (pause)  You like to do drugs?
Girl: What kind?
Guy: What you got?
Girl: Well, I don’t have any…  Do you?
Guy: Yes.
Girl: Well?
Guy: Well what?  Do you like to do drugs?
Girl: What have you got?
Guy: I take it then you do like to do drugs?
Girl: Yes, I love to take drugs!  There’s nothing greater.  Now what have you got?
Guy: Hmm, just pot, you sound more hardcore.
Girl: Shut up and pull over.

Girl: is this an act?
Guy: How so?
Girl: Do you enjoy seeming dense, is this a power trip or something?
Guy: Do I seem dense?
Girl: Evasive.
Guy: Why?
Girl: Because you keep asking me questions!
Guy: Weren’t you asking me a question?
Girl: Well…

Girl: Alright, let’s try this again.  No questions.  (pause)  Say something.
Guy: Like?
Girl: No questions.  Indicative, declarative, exclamatory, whatever, just nothing that ends with a [does question mark]
Guy: Okay…  how about…  Elipses… [does dot-dot-dot]
Girl: No, well, not the way you use them.
Guy: All right.
Girl: Good.
Guy: Umm…
Girl: Say something.
Guy: Like…[?] ice cream…[?]  I like ice cream.
Girl: I do too.
Guy: I don’t actually.
Girl: Then…[?] Neither do I.
Guy: I just said that because I was about to ask a question.
Girl: Me too.
Guy: So then you don’t like ice cream or you do…
Girl: That’s a question, even rhetorical.
Guy: No, see, that could a statement of fact, you either do or you don’t.
Girl: But why would you state that?  When, most likely…
Guy: Got ya.
Girl: What?
Guy: There again.
Girl: Okay, I thought we were stopping, what do you…  That was a compound sentence.
Guy: No it wasn’t, you took way too long between phrases.  “But why would you state that? [dramatic pause] When most likely…”
Girl: Fuck you.
Guy: There you go, another one.  And the answer is, yes, if you wish.
Girl: But what about when you were quoting me, if you were right, and I did ask a question, then you would be asking the same question a la verbatim.
Guy: Well, the punctuation would be a question mark, on paper, but you can’t possibly think that I was asking you “But why would you state that?” since I’ve been resolute in everything I, and you, say.  Besides you’ve asked at least a few questionable statements, either that or you have a habit of making declarative statements sound like queries, be it out of insecurity or extreme politeness.  But you could just be falling into some greater gender stereotype perpetrated by a hereditary hierarchy of male dominance, but I’m not asking for 10 steps behind me, and I’d hope you don’t think I would.
Girl: (pause) This is a power trip thing.
Guy: Why do you say that?
Girl: That’s a question!
Guy: Yes.  So, should I stop asking questions?

Girl: Alright.
Guy: Fine.
Girl: Good by me.
Guy: Alright.
Girl: Fine.
Guy: Good by me.
Girl: Alright.
Guy: Fine.
Girl: Good by me.
Guy: Fine.
Girl: F—Alright.
Guy: Falright back at ya.
Girl: Okay.
Guy: Alright.
Girl: Not alright!  This is insane.  Are we children?  Are we sex-crazed maniacs?
Guy: Are we on some quixotic, vainglorious…
Girl: Stop.  (Car stops.  Pause.)  Fine, go.
Guy: …pursuit for existential affirmation thru metaphysical wanderlust?

Girl: So what’s your story?
Guy: Didn’t you already ask me that?
Girl: Well, regardless, I don’t remember you answering.
Guy: But I don’t think you remember asking.
Girl: Well, I’m asking now.
Guy: Am I answering?
Girl: No.
Guy: What’s your story?
Girl: Fine.  Can we make up stories?
Guy: I don’t see why not.  But that’s certainly no reason to do something.  Though certainly no reason not to do something, either.
Girl: I was a waitress, at a bar, in… texas city.
Guy: Tex--
Girl: (slight accent)  A city in texas, anyway, I used to be a nightclub singer, but then I was beat really bad, and now I can’t sing.  Anyway, I used to live on a farm before that, my dad was a sweet old man.  Used to make taffy for all the neighbor kids…  In the neighboring village, that is, you know, when he’d go in to use the market, or whatever.
Guy: Go on.
Girl: Anyway, my dad was a sweet old man, but my mother, she…  she had a psychological problem.  Some kind of psychosis where you scream a lot and then go catatonic, then destroy the house in a big fury, and then beat the dog.  We couldn’t afford a doctor, so we never did find out what it was.  She died before I was 6ish.  And my dad had to raise me, and my poor crippled dog Yelpers.  I took Yelpers with me when I went to the city, to be a lounge singer.  We got a dinky little apartment above a mechanic’s garage.  It was okay, Yelps couldn’t really walk, so he didn’t mind the size.  Eventually, the mechanic there made him a harness out of an old wheelbarrow and some spare car parts, so he could wheel around.  Anyway, he’s who beat my larynx so bad I couldn’t sing any longer, that’s when I became a waitress at this rhinestone cowboy bar, like in the movie rhinestone cowboy.   Then I got sick and moved back home, but the farm wasn’t there anymore, and all the livestock had dead.  So, I headed toward the main road, and hitched a ride with you.
Guy: So the mechanic attacked you?  Why?
Girl: Oh, because I said the harness made the dog look so pathetic, that the local boys were getting to throw rocks at him.  And since he’s used to abuse, he’d just let them and followed them around.  I had to take it off him just to keep him from rolling away with any mean group of boys that threw rocks at him.
Guy: Well, you can take the harness out of the dog, but you can’t take the dog out of the harness.
Girl: How can you take the harness out of him?  It was all metal and weighed at least 60 pounds, how did it get in him?
Guy: You’d be surprised.
Girl: And I did take him out of it.
Guy: Then where is he?  Couldn’t keep up so, what, you dump him on the side of the road?
Girl: What, no, I’d never do that.  Except for, yes, this one time.
Guy: Yeah, well, nice thing you did, now he can’t even use his harness to find a new family.
Girl: Or mean group of boys.
Guy: Then he’ll die.
Girl: He’d die anyway.
Guy: Well, sooner.
Girl: I don’t know, mean groups can be awfully mean.
Guy: Better than die, let him have his illusion, if it brings him happiness.  He’s a dog, what does he know.  Fuck him, if he goes after mean groups of boys, dogs can’t be reformed just by removing their harness.  He’d find a way to limp over to some mean groups of boys if he could.
Girl: That’s cynical.
Guy: Yeah well, I’m not a dog, or a harness, or a mean group of boys, but I have seen all of them…  Except maybe the harness.  But you get what I mean.
Girl: No.
Guy: Oh yes, you do.
Girl: What?
Guy: (pulls over car)  If I was to get out of this car, drop to one knee, and offer you a life of security and happiness that would only require trust, cooperation, and commitment, you’d say yes, maybe, but then you’d get bored, you’d leave, and take all my life, my happiness, and my livelihood if you can.  And I’d be alone, with only a harness in one hand and a bunch of broken promises in the other.  And what would I do?  I’d probably stuff the promises in the harness, throw it in the back seat, and drive off.
Girl: Oh, how do you know?
Guy: Cause that’s my story.

Girl: Did you really get hurt by a woman?
Guy: One in particular?
Girl: Yes.
Guy: No.
Girl: But in general?
Guy: Not enough to notice.

*guy driving, long pause
Guy: You ever get that feeling of just driving into something on the side of the road?
Girl: Are you getting that feeling now?
Guy: No.
Girl: No, I don’t get that feeling.

Girl: Why do you ask?
Guy: Hmm?
Girl: Do you get that feeling?
Guy: All the time.

Girl: Are you getting it now?
Guy: No.
Girl: When was the last time you got it?
Guy: Last week.
Girl: What happened?
Guy: I got the feeling—would you like to drive?
Girl: No, I just…  Would you like me to drive
*pulls over
No, I meant, did you ask cause you want me to drive?
*starts car
I mean, I’ll drive…
*stops car
 if you want me to…
*sits there
So you want me to then?
Guy: I don’t know.

Girl: I mean, feelings are feelings, so what.  Its one thing to have them, another thing to act on them.
Guy: True.
Girl: I mean, it’s good to act on feelings.
Guy: Also true.
Girl: But not suicidal feelings.
Guy: I suppose.
Girl: Well, otherwise you’d be dead.
Guy: Perhaps.

Girl: You’ve never acted on them have you?
Guy: Yes.
Girl: You have?
Guy: Sure.
Girl: When?
Guy: Last week.
Girl: Last week?

Guy: It was late and there was no one on the road.  I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t drunk, I hadn’t gotten high in weeks—though not by choice, I was just poor.  I wasn’t particularly depressed.  At least I didn’t think I was.  I slowly drifted to the right, which is something I usually don’t do, I wanted to see how close I could get to the guard rail.  I couldn’t get very close, so I straightened out.  Then, I got the feeling to just swerve suddenly into the guard rail.  Which is the feeling I normally get.  I don’t know why, maybe it was because I was mad at myself because I couldn’t get more than a foot close to the guard rail…  I don’t know.

Anyway, I wasn’t hurt, I hit the rail, then spun out to the other side of the road and landed backward in a ditch in such a way that I was left facing the road.  I just sat in my car, which was pretty banged up.  A woman in a minivan was driving the other way, and I saw her look right at me as she drove by without slowing down.  She was so distracted, she in fact drove off the road on the same side I was on, and ended up hitting a tree.  I could see her; she was slumped over the wheel.  The car caught on fire, I didn’t think cars caught on fire anymore.

Anyway, I went over and got her out as carefully as I could.  I ended up getting somewhat burned, and a little cut and bruised.  I told the cops exactly what happened when they got there, including the fact that I drove purposely into the guardrail.  They asked me if there wasn’t maybe a deer on the road, they said there were lots of deer around there, and one could easily get distracted by a deer.  They went on and on about what I had done, saving the woman’s life, how it was a self-less act, without regard for my own safety…

Of course, I did regard the risk to my safety, in fact, I only get out of the car when I realized I could die trying to save her.   I thought the car might blow up at any second, since the only cars I’ve ever seen catch on fire have been on TV, and they would almost always explode pretty soon after crashing.

Saving the woman’s life was… secondary, I really wanted the car to explode.  In fact, after I got her out, I went back to the car; maybe there’d be a child inside, maybe the car would explode as I was looking for one.  There was no child, and the car didn’t explode.  Anyway, I agreed with the deer in the road story, it was just easier that way, and in the end the insurance company bought me a new car.  Now all my bruises have healed, they were all very superficial, and its like it never happened.

Girl: Did it?
Guy: What?
Girl: Did it really happen?
Guy: What do you think?
Girl: I’m afraid to say.
Guy: Well what you think is all that really matters, either way.
Girl: I suppose…
Guy: It’s not like I want to kill you.
Girl: Homicidal and suicidal tendencies, go hand in hand, from what I hear.
Guy: Hmm, I’ve heard that too.
Girl: Well, no more crazed maniacs…  At least not the first part.
Guy: Don’t they go hand in hand?
Girl: They didn’t last time.
Guy: Well, the last time I thought we weren’t playing crazed maniacs.  Were you?
Girl: No.  [pause]  So what, the first time was part of the game?

Girl: I’m tired.
Guy: As am I.
Girl: You want me to drive?
Guy: No, not that kind of tired.
Girl: Tired of me?
Guy: No, just the kind of tired I always feel.  (pause)  What are you tired of?
Girl: Nothing.  Just tired.
Guy: Yep.
Girl: You must be contagious
Guy: Infectious.
Girl: