...and cross street, the following conversation:"He was there before she got involved."
"Yeah?"
"You know, I've been chasing him all day."
"He needs to be hung up by his balls."
The players were a chain-smoking Indiana good ol' girl leaning on a car with an In God We Trust license plate, and a teacherly old woman with funky earrings and a massive handbag. The old woman spoke the closing line.
It strikes me that this is the kind of story about which you crave both to hear more and to hear absoluately nothing further. It's perfectly balanced: a dancer en pointe, a beautiful girl on a trapeze.
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