“Feelin’ it. Waitin’ for my part. Being skinny.”
Yeah. You kinda look like a Pez dispenser.
“Bless your heart.”
You explained what that meant to me last time we talked.
“Did I? It was a while ago.”
Aw, Mrs. Donna Jean, don’t be like that. It’s bad enough with Garcia’s whining.
“But: he’s dead, honeysuckle. Me, they just don’t wanna pay.”
Still, he’s pretty insistent on being there. Keeps huffing and puffing about “backup bands getting delusions of grandeur.”
“I’m sure I don’t know whatever he may mean.”
You and Bobby were the only ones with chins, weren’t you?
“Mickey had one, but where I grew up, we were taught it was polite to pretend Jews didn’t exist, so: yes.”