_Still in the maze, they stop at a bar._ ME: You know, I don’t mean to imply that I don’t like listening to you all the damn time because I do, it’s just that— HIM: What? ME: Do you mind if I tell you something about me for once? HIM: Of course not. I mean, sure. Shit, yeah! Tell me! ME: Okay. Well, once I lived in a limestone cave. There was this whole civilization down there. They had everything—shopping malls, inadequacy, tv dinners, courtship, romance—the works. Baked potatoes. Guitars. Dead people. Libraries. Headaches. HIM: Look is there a point to all this? ME: I thought you wanted to hear. HIM: I thought you were really going to tell me something. ME: I was but I I I I I I HIM: What? ME: Just can’t HIM: Oh. That’s okay. ME: No it— HIM: Isn’t.