Number two, in an aggrieved tone: “Say-y! Who does he think he is, anyway? How does he get that way? That guy’s pretty fresh, I’d say!”
She: “Well, I get to thinkin’ about it an’ I get sore. The noive of ‘im, tawkin’ about women like that! So the next day when he comes to get his hat I says: ‘Listen,’ I says, ‘what’s eatin’ on you, anyway? What are yah—a woman-hatah or somep’n? Whatcha got against women, anyway? What’d they eveh do to you?‘ ‘Nothing,’ he says, ‘nothing—except act like women!’ Gee! The way he said that! An’ stood there shakin’ his head at me in that disgusted way like I’d done somep’n! He takes his hat then, leaves his dollah, an’ goes out…So afteh that I decide t’ kid ‘im along a little, seein’ he’s not tryin’ t’ get funny wit’ me. So every day afteh that I make some wisecrack about women, tryin’ to get a rise out of ‘im, but I neveh do! Say! You can’t get a rise outa that guy! I’ve tried an’ I know! He don’t even know when you’re tryin’ t’ get a rise out of ‘im!...So then he stahts t’ ast me questions about my husband—an’ gee!—was I embarrassed? He ast me all kinds of questions about ‘im—what did he do, an’ how old was he, an’ where did he come from, an’ was his mother livin’, an’ what did he think about women? Gee! It usta keep me busy from one day to anotheh wonderin’ what he was goin’ to ast me next, an’ what t’ say to ‘im…Then he stahted astin’ me about my mother, an’ my sisters an’ brothers, an’ what did they do, an’ how old were they—an’ I could tell ‘im those because I knew the answers.”
Number two: “An’ you told ‘im?”
She: “Sure. W’y not?”
Number two: “Gee, Mary, y’ shouldn’t do that! You don’t know th’ guy! How do you know who he is?”
She, abstracted, in a softer tone: “Oh, I don’t know. That guy’s all right!” With a little shrug: “You know! You can always tell.”
Number two: “Yeah, but all the same, y’ neveh can tell! You don’t know anything about th’ guy! I kid ‘em along, but I neveh tell ‘em anything.”
She: “Oh, sure. I know. I do the same. Only, it’s diff’rent wit’ this guy. Gee, it’s funny! I musta told ‘im awmost everything—all about mama, an’ Pat, an’ Tim, an’ Helen—I guess he knows the history of the whole damn fam’ly now! I neveh tawked so much to a stranger befoeh in my whole life. But it’s funny, he neveh seems to say anything himse’f. He just stands there an’ looks at you, an’ turns his head to one side as if he’s listenin’—an’ you spill the beans. When he’s gone you realise you’ve done all the tawkin’. ‘Listen,’ I says to ‘im the otheh day, ‘you know everything else now, I’ve told you the truth about everything else, so I’ll come clean on this, too—that wasn’t true about me bein’ married.’ Gee! He was about to drive me nuts astin’ a new question every day about my husband! ‘I lied to you about that,’ I says. ‘I neveh was married. I haven’t got a husband.’”
Number two, hungrily: “So w’at does he say to that?”
She: “Just looks at me an’ says: ‘So—_what?_’” Laughing: “Gee, it was funny to hear ‘im say that! I guess I taught it to ‘im. He says it all the time now. But it’s funny the way he says it—like he don’t know exactly what it means. ‘So—_what?_’ he says. So I says: ‘What d’you mean, so what? I’m tellin’ you that I’m not married, like I said I was.’ ‘I knew that all the time,’ he says. ‘How did you know?’ I says. ‘How could you tell?‘ ‘Because,’ he says, an’ shakes his head at me in that disgusted way—‘because you’re a woman!’”
Number two: “Can you imagine that? The noive of ‘im! I hope you told ‘im somep’n!”
She: “Oh, sure! I always come right back at ‘im! But still, you neveh can be sure he means it! I think he’s kiddin’ half the time. He may be kiddin’ when he shakes his head at you in that disgusted way. Anyway, that guy’s all right! I don’t know, but somehow you can tell.” A pause, then with a sigh: “But gee! If only he’d go an’ get himse’f a-----”
Number two: “Hat!”
She: “Can yah beat it?”
Number two: “Ain’t it a scream?”