Original subtitles

Meticulous handwriting.

Nice. Elegant, but a little intimidating.

Dear Red Shoes, there's something about your ad that compelled me to write.

It struck me as sincere and very sad.

Yeah.

Friday, March 13th.

You might know it.

Every Friday the 13th changes my life for better or for worse.

Usually for worse.

It had been the day from hell.

Of course, my car wouldn't start.

The Dow fell 63 points. Then somebody stole my jacket from the restroom.

I'm sure he would.

Really, it's no problem.

I know what it's like to try to handle a cab in the rain. It happened to me in

New York. I got a terrible flu.

You don't want that.

I'm going to count to three.

One.

Thanks. Very nice of you.

You look desperate.

I was.

Look at you. You're shivering.

I'm fine.

I'll tell you what.

Will you try the heater, please?

I'll tell you what. Here, put on my jacket.

No, really, I'm fine. Come on.

I'm fine. You don't look fine, I'll tell you.

Teeth are chattering. You're about an inch away from getting really sick.

I'm like a mother.

I do?

Yeah. Thank you.

Not a compliment. Look, I'll get your jacket all wet. You know, if I were you,

I'd take off my blouse.

Seriously.

Or else you're going to be warm on the outside and cold on the inside.

I'm telling you true.

But it's really... Look, I promise I won't look.

Me neither.

Yeah, sure.

Ah,

what the hell.

Eyes on the road, my man.

There you go.

Feel better?

Much better.

Let me ask you something.

Do you put henna on your hair, or is that your natural color?

It's really pretty.

What are you, a hairdresser?

Do I look like a hairdresser?

No. As long as you're not a doctor.

Come on. What does it matter?

What does it matter? The kind of car you drive, where you live, the bank

account? It all matters.

Only four things really matter.

Really great pizza.

Not love.

Anybody excited?

Hmm? Great, thank you.

Oh, the rain's, uh, looks like a tear.

Speed mark.

Your jacket.

Please keep it.

I'll drop it off.

It could come up.

I'll messenger it over to you.

My housekeeper always thinks a nice pot of vegetable soup.

It's always too much for one.

I can't.

Vegetable parley.

I'm late.

I'm late.

With a dash of nutmeg.

I really can't. I think you can.

Come on now, what you two white people gonna do?

Pick your white chocolate, go up and try some of the man's homemade soup. What's

wrong with you?

Okay. A cup.

Just a cup.

Just a cup.

There you go, Mom.

How much do I owe you?

You owe me plenty because I got off the cab.

$39 .95.

Thank you much. God bless you. One love.

I don't know what it was that made me decide to go with him.

Maybe it was his brown eyes.

Maybe it was the joint the cab driver was smoking.

Or maybe I'd just been alone too long.

When you're single in your early 30s, when your heart's been broken one too

times, you become cautious.

And you begin to let your ambitions and your work take over.

And you like it that way.

It's safer that way.

Lonely sometimes.

But safe.

Let me take the bag.

There you go.

It's a wet thing.

Make yourself at home.

This is great.

Did you design it?

No.

Okay, so if you're not an architect, you...

Must be a painter.

A designer.

Nope.

You know, I hope you like parsnips, because Maria, my housekeeper, grows

her backyard.

So, um, you're not going to tell me what you did, right?

Nope.

Right. I mean, you're right.

After all, all that matters is really great pizza.

Call me.

Bye. Maybe this isn't such a hot idea.

I think I should go.

We can get together for a drink sometime.

Someplace. What for?

Well, I don't know. I mean, isn't that what we're supposed to do? I mean, go to

a movie and then have dinner and get to know each other kind of?

We have dinner.

We can watch a movie if you like.

I have some cassettes I think you'd really like.

That's not what I mean.

Say what you mean.

I really don't know what I'm doing here.

You're here because you're cold.

And because you're hungry.

And because you're wearing my jacket.

And because something happened in that cabin.

I think you're not ready to let go.

I bet everyone in your office thinks you make love whenever you want.

Because they only see your beauty.

And never your sadness.

Or your fear.

What do you think I'm afraid of?

I think you're afraid that I'm talking you into doing something that you

want.

So stop.

You want me to stop?

What's a girl supposed to do when she falls in love with

you?

Touch the heart.

It's the only part that matters.

All right.

Jadakhan.

What's a girl supposed to do?

When she falls in love with you, what's a girl supposed to

do? When she falls in love at the heart,

at the heart.

What?

You want a date now? No, not a date.

I want to make love to you again.

Here, like we did tonight.

And then walk away again.

When? Wednesday.

I can't Wednesday. Tuesday.

Tuesday.

Seven o 'clock?

Nine.

For the first time in my adult life, I'd found someone who wanted the same thing

as me.

Tuesdays and Thursdays. The perfect solution for the single working woman.

No commitment, no expectations, no lies, no names.

Anonymous.

Monogamous.

The safest sex going.

Anybody home?

I hope you like pearls.

Because I sure do.

They're beautiful.

They're amazing.

Fucking amazing.

Every breath.

Every minute. Every second.

It's got to be special.

I don't care who you are.

Or where you're from.

Whether you're a Democrat, an aristocrat,

a bureaucrat, when you're here,

nothing else matters but you and me.

And what will you see?

And feel.

Never what we say.

Nothing stays the same.

Thank you.

My friends told me I was nuts.

That I'd never be able to keep my objectivity.

To separate the act of love from the emotion of love.

But I knew I could handle it.

I took off from work early.

It was my turn.

So?

How long you been planning to do this?

Since Tuesday.

Been playing that a hundred times, haven't you?

Thousands.

So why now?

Give me your pain, give me your love I am everything

you're dreaming of Give me your pain, give me your love

Give me your pain, give me your love.

I am everything, not clean enough.

Give me your pain, give me your love.

I am everything, not clean enough.

Give me your pain.

Did he put the letters by the champagne to tempt me?

Or did they just happen to be there?

I knew the rules.

But I just couldn't help myself.

I needed to know more.

agreement. I know.

That's it.

It's over. I broke the rule.

I understand.

I feel the same way.

A deal's a deal, right?

All that matters is great pizza.

You know you're only being a prick.

There's a certain code of conduct on here that makes me feel like a...

We'd gone right up to the edge and almost lost it.

Hello?

Mom?

Yes, I'm still here.

Thank you.

I can't keep him.

I'm here.

And I'll be here.

As long as you need me.

That night we told each other everything.

He opened up and so did I.

I went back east for the funeral.

When I came back, he was gone.

I had gone to him with my grief, and he comforted me.

We stepped over the line.

We broke the rules.

For the next three months, I buried myself in my work, hoping to forget him,

praying that I'd see him again, that fate would deal me a second

hand.

The truth is, with Michael, I finally realized I

was ready to accept the compromises of a relationship,

face the dangers.

The pain.

Then one day, out of the blue, just when I'd given up hope,

he called me at work.

He said he wanted to start up again exactly where we'd left off.

Only this time with no limit.

No rule.

The next move is mine.

Boy, have I missed you.

Miss you a lot.

You go to bed with a stranger and they can still be a stranger.

But you go to bed with them again, they stop being a stranger.

That's what happened to your mama.

She was so sure she could keep her mind separate from her heart. But what she

found out is the same thing they found out.

There's no escaping the emotion.

There's no such thing as safe sex.

I hope it works.