He's like some dumb kid. He's never unhappy. Nothing bothers him.
He's creepy is what he is.
I aint ever seen him without that grin. Begging for someone to talk to him.
No telling what's wrong with him.
Some people are just simple. Born that way.
I've seen retarded kids cry before. They're not all happy let me tell you.
He aint a re-tard. He's not stupid.
Paletello joined in: No. He's not.
He'd give away his last dime if somebody needed it. If they asked him for it.
And still, that wouldn't make them talk to him.
That's right.
So is that such a bad way to be? Paletello, a little grumpy, wiping down the counter. A minor reversal here, since where Mac was concerned he usually found himself contrary.
What—simple?
No. To be kind. Give somebody a dime.
Nah. Just may be—ignorant is all. Stupid, 'cause aint nobody ever down to their last dime, 'cause the govmint gives you a dollar in that case.
Unless, you're making that dime, working your ass off, and they take it from you and you aint got it anymore. And then they give to someone who aint working.
That's the sense it makes, for sure.
The govmint and Mac. Two of a kind. Giving money away.
Mac works, all right. Paletello again.
Driving a damn piece of junk car around town all day. And then driving all night 'cause he likes it. Some work.
You drive.
I drive a damn hard to manage four-ton delivery van.
Uh-huh. Better than a lot of 'em do. Talk about govmint handing out money to them who don't even do as much as Mac does.
Yeah. He aint so bad.
Just annoying. Annoying as hell.
Like you say your wife is?
Well. She's got one saving feature.
When it's playing. So does half the world.
Well, hell. Aint you making me feel better.
