All language subtitles for Orgy At Lils Place-1963-eng

- It was another summer,

but not like any other summer.

As I walked to our mailbox,

I knew I was seeing
Bradfield for the last time.

I was leaving for New York.

I was leaving, and like
the flowering trees,

the world was opening for me.

My hands trembled.

I was full of the nervous excitement

of an aspiring actress.

Everything around me shrunk,

and I was seeing my town
just as it was.

Clean, and well ordered,
and predictable.

On Friday, all that
would be left behind.

But I wouldn't be alone.

My sister Sally was
already living in the east,

and I was going to
share her apartment.

Sally was a dancer.

That is, she was
studying to become one,

but to be a dancer calls for
more than a winning smile,

and a good figure.

Hours of physical torture
and rehearsal, and waiting.

Waiting for the chance to be seen.

- Hello?

- Bob? Hi, darling.

Just got in.

- How did class go?

- Ugh, I'm beat.

Listen, I got a letter from Ann.

- Well who's that?

- You never listen.

My sister, Ann!

-Well is there anything wrong?

- Wrong, she's coming to New York!

- Oh, that's nice.

-Apparently she's
going to stay with me.

- Oh my gosh, look, honey,

babysitting is just what
our relationship needs.

- Oh come on, Bob.

Ann's a big girl now, she
can take care of herself.

You know her plane arrives tomorrow.

Do you think we could pick her up?

- Let's see now, tomorrow's
Friday, isn't it?

- [Sally] I think so.

- Look, I think I can make it.

Look I'll see you later
at class, alright?

- Okay, bye darling.

- [Ann] Even before we met,

I felt I knew Bob.

Sally had described him
as talented and handsome,

and modest, qualities she herself had.

He was obviously someone special.

A girl doesn't describe a
casual acquaintance that way.

Bob was a painter, and had arranged

for Sally to pose at his school,

the Arts Society of New York.

One of the most serious and
successful schools in the city.

Not the easiest of professions,

but it paid the rent and
bought the groceries,

and left her enough time
to pursue her studies.

At home, everyone was
either too young or too old.

In New York it seemed that
everyone was doing something.

It didn't matter if you lived
on hamburgers and coffee,

around the corner there
was fame and fortune.

Don't forget to write,
or look up so and so,

take care of yourself!

I remember a tremendous gasp of wind,

and there they were, swallowed
up in a cloud of dust.

Down below it seemed
distant and quaint,

like a quilt you once
covered yourself with.

We were moving towards the sun.

Before I could catch my breath,

we were circling a forest of towers,

tall and austere and awesome.

I held on to my seat
and felt myself sinking.

It wasn't so bad.

The natives didn't cook me.

They were there.

Sally came in Bob's car, and
they brought along Charlie,

Bob's best friend.

We drove into the city.

It wasn't exactly a palace,

just an apartment Sally could afford.

And she had used her ingenuity
to make the most of it.

This was Sally's place,
and now it was also mine.

I wasn't given much of a
chance to get my bearings.

The boys told us to change
into some comfortable things

and be ready to see the sights.

One thing was certain,
this wasn't Bradfield.

Only 10 minutes in New York
and my head was spinning.

I felt as if I'd just
gotten off the boat,

and my sea legs were still with me.

Racing along the parkway
with the top down,

wind in our faces.

Life was just beginning.

Bob was almost as I had pictured him.

Considerate and
comfortable to be with,

the kind of a guy
my sister would choose.

Charlie seemed completely opposite,

though he laughed and smiled easily,

I could tell his mind
was somewhere else.

Back home there were county fairs,

but nothing like Coney Island.

As far as the eye could see,

a vast city of rides and
games and stalls with food.

Everywhere I looked there were
swirling masses of people.

And people, and people.

And I thought, how
could you ever be lonely

in a place like this?

We went up, and we went down.

We were catapulted and caught.

And for the first time I
realized how fortunate I was

to have someone to hold on to.

They were called amusements,

but they were really
disguised experiments

to test the limits of human courage.

Mine must've been inexhaustible,

because I was having
the time of my life.

Down, up, up, down,
my head was twirling,

and I was floating all the way.

Land ho!

We were back on mother
earth, gyrating like tops,

and loving every turn.

The twist was still the thing.

If my head was still in the clouds,

my stomach was feeling the
explosion of a million calories.

Hot dogs and pizza, and corn.

Gallons of soda and miles
of cotton candy.

And when I had had it, we
started all over again.

How I managed to stay upright
I'll never understand.

The sun was lowering, and
the crowds were thinning.

We walked to the railing
and looked out at the sea.

Only the distant rumble of ocean.

It was darkening and wonderfully calm.

A boy and a girl, and
a boy and a girl.

Bob and Sally, and Charlie and me.

As the shapes of night began to fall,

we were driving back to the city.

It wasn't hard to tell
that Bob and Sally

were right for each other.

I was weary, and a little
melancholy to see it end.

Everything happened so fast,

it was now catching up.

A perfect first day in New York.

Meeting someone as nice as Charlie

was too much to expect so soon.

Reluctant goodbyes.

I guess no one wanted it to end.

But it was getting dark,
and time to call it a day.

Sally had arranged
the place ingeniously.

She was neat and efficient,

and made the best of what she had.

I liked our apartment.

Though small, it had all the comforts.

Good beds and a shower,
and room for my things.

She must've worked like a
demon to clear out the space.

I was thrilled.

Thrilled to live with Sally.

Thrilled to be in New York.

And ready to try my luck.

The weekend wasn't over.

Bright and early we were on
our way to explore Manhattan.

Bob and Charlie called for us,

and we drove to the river
to see the boat basin.

I suppose this was old hat for them,

but they were determined
to launch me in style.

Down the spiral ramp
to the Hudson shore.

A lovely spot, with
water slapping against

the white of swaying craft.

They were beautiful.

So this is how the other half lived.

I thought, how marvelous to
lie under rippling canopies

on polished decks, gliding
past all those buildings.

I had imagined the city
as swarms of humanity

and clamoring subways.

I didn't realize how
much more there was.

We discovered our own yacht,
the Staten Island ferry.

A nickel in the turnstile
and we were cruising

across the bay, listening
to the sounds of the harbor.

And like an apparition, the
skyline slipped out of sight.

They were pressed close together,

and it didn't take a mind
reader to read their thoughts.

As soon as things went their way,

I knew Bob and Sally would marry.

They were perfect, and I was happy,

happy they had found each other.

We paid a second fare
and got back on board,

riding into the breeze.

The water sliced by and
buildings reappeared.

I heard the whistle
echoing out to sea.

- Come on, Charlie, let's play.

Come on, come on.

- We're having a party.

- Come on, Charlie.

- You don't know what you're
lettin' yourself in for.

- Here we go.

♫ Now I am a bachelor,

♫ I live all alone.

♫ I work at the weaver's trade.

♫ And the only only thing
I ever did was wrong

♫ Was to woo a fair young maid.

♫ I wooed her in the wintertime,

♫ And part of the summer too,

♫ And the only only thing
I ever did was wrong,

♫ Was to keep her from
the foggy, foggy dew.

♫ Now when-

Ah, come on, let's just.

Are you having fun?

- It's not really as I
expected from Sally's letters.

- I bet you thought we city
folks weren't civilized, huh?

- Not really, it's just
that I had expected it

to be a little different.

This is like home.

- Well, for me, home is where
I set my typewriter down.

- Are you an author?

- When I'm not forced
to make a living,

I'm struggling on a
re-write of my novel.

- Working alone must be awfully hard.

What's it about?

- Upside down world.

Sensitive young guy
who looks at everything

through the wrong end of a periscope.

- I would love a career.

But not to last forever.

Then, a home and a family.

Roots are the only things that count.

- Well, I like to tear up roots,

and let the dirt fall where it may.

Look around this room.

Painters and writers and musicians.

Screaming kids and a mortgage,

and maybe a few fringe
benefits aren't for me.

You wanna dance?

- No thanks.

That sightseeing wore me out.

Do you have a publisher?

- [Charlie] Well, I have
somebody who's willing

to read the novel when I'm through.

- [Ann] At least you've got a chance.

- How 'bout some cheese and vino?

We have to move fast with this group,

or bye bye chianti.

- I'd love some, I am a little hungry.

A girl doesn't have to leave home

to meet confirmed bachelors.

All they want is a few
laughs, a good time,

and a goodnight kiss.

My problem was to begin
a career as an actress.

The party was over, and I
started to search in earnest.

I bought the trade papers,

and began combing through the ads.

It was Charlie calling.

He wanted a date,
but I turned him down.

Charlie was a bachelor,

and as long as he wanted to stay one,

there were more important
things on my mind.

Bravery ends when confusion sets in.

Where do you begin?

No weekend and no dates,
just me on my own.

The city and me.

I was determined and frightened.

They call it making rounds,

and they sure know what
they're talking about.

In one door and out the other.

I was going round and round.

Sorry miss, drop by
later in the season.

Don't call us, we'll call you.

Business is slow.

All filled up.

Round and round, in one
door and out the other.

They sure don't waste much time.

I was as tired as I'd ever
been, and going nowhere fast.

The boom of frustration was lowering.

You need more than
courage and ambition.

You need more than the
echo of hometown applause.

What you really need is an
indestructible pair of feet.

I desired to rely on the phone.

At least I was trying.

And from a glass booth, the
world seemed less formidable.

Sally told me everything about
her relationship with Bob.

He was a serious painter,

and Sally frequently posed for
him, sometimes in the nude.

I was a little stunned.

And she must have read my doubts.

She assured me nothing
went on that shouldn't,

and knowing my Sally, I
knew it was the truth.

Back to making rounds.

Round and round I went,
secretly envying receptionists.

At first it was only
the hard pavement,

but now it was pouring.

The water splashing into my shoes.

Cold, damp, despondent, I
was bewildered by it all.

No, no no.

It seemed that wherever I went,

people's vocabularies were limited

to one final and
incontestable word, no.

Morale was withering,
my spirit frozen,

and my feet were throbbing.

I was beginning to doubt
that I'd ever get started.

But, you can't remain in bed.

Next morning I was out again.

A skirmish isn't a war,
and a day isn't a lifetime.

Moving in this mass of humanity,

I began looking at faces,

wondering how many were
just getting started,

and how many had
listened to those nos.

Everywhere success was
posted bold and clear.

And lines waited
to spend good dollars.

I wondered if anyone would
ever wait on line to see me.

It was late in the
afternoon, and still no luck.

If I was pressed into
another stuffy elevator

I thought I would pass out.

Alright, Annie, one
final try for the day.

That ad you saw in the paper.

- Send her in.

Come in.

Miss?
- Miss Carson, Ann Carson.

- And you are?

- I'm an actress.

I play leads, leads back home that is,

and I spent one season in stock.

- The theater isn't exactly my line.

- I realize that.

I saw your listing in the trade books,

and I thought you might,

- Broadway is only a side
street with white lights.

Let's see your book.

- Pardon?

- Pictures, I know what you look like,

but some people need
pictures to know what I know.

- I have some snapshots and clippings.

- No, no, no, no.

Look, not snapshots, no.

Good pictures are very important.

Alright, don't worry about
it, I'll take care of it.

Do you mind standing up?

Turn around.

Now close that window.

Alright, dear, we liked it.

Have a seat.

There's one person
you should get to know.

- I should?

- Lil Duncan.
- who's she?

- If you know Lil, you're in.

If you don't, why
bother to leave home.

- You mean she would, she would,

be in a position to,

- Get me Lil Duncan, at
home or in the office.

Hello, cheri.

- Cheri, my foot.

You've been playing
hookie from school.

- You know what too much
homework does to me.

- Long time no see.

Since when do you call before sunset?

- I've been busier than
a real estate operator.

- [Lil] Buying, or selling?

- Auditioning new talent.

Christmas is coming, and
so is the thrill season.

Lil baby, small request?

- What's she like?

- Your perception is showing

Like Kansas in autumn.

As a matter of fact
Ms. Carson is sitting

in my office right now.

- Come off the balcony, Romeo.

If she's been there
more than 10 minutes,

she must be something.

- I'll let you judge for yourself.

- [Lil] Vital statistics?
Any birth marks?

- Potential far greater
than experience,

and as the French say, a pretty
face is money in the bank.

And we'll allow, she plays
leads back in her hometown.

- In my neighborhood they're
playing musical pets.

- Shall we say at your
convenience? Roger.

Looks like you've got a chance, kid.

- You mean I, she will?

- Life is full of surprises.

- Oh, thank you, thank you very much.

Well, I think I'd better be going.

He was inviting me out.

And who could refuse a
person who had rescued me?

I was tired and hungry and excited.

Things were beginning to look up.

Poor Charlie.

Mark called for me the
following afternoon,

and I confess having spent
hours to look my best.

The minute I entered his office,

there was something special.

His manner, cynical, but not bored.

Behavior, aggressive, but
with the right touch of humor.

Assurance and success and
the least bit of gesture.

And here was the first
man willing to help me.

Cocktails on a rooftop
overlooking Central Park,

and then to an elegant restaurant

where our table was reserved.

The doorman knew him,

the bartender knew him
and the waiters knew him.

Wherever we went,
Mark was the magic word.

A fabulous meal with
two kinds of wine.

After dinner we went
downtown to a place

the likes of which I
had never seen before.

Again, we had a ringside table.

I was a little stunned,
and certainly impressed.

The dancing was exotic
and the music magnificent.

More and more I was
beginning to love New York.

Across the aisle there was a woman,

and Mark waved hello.

She nodded.

He told me that this was Lil Duncan.

She was beautifully dressed
and surprisingly young.

In his office I had pictured
her as sort of middle aged,

and matron-like, not the
stunning woman I was seeing.

I couldn't resist.

I asked Mark how old she was.

He smiled a sly smile and
said that Lil had been around.

No doubt about it.

Mark Damon knew everyone.

The hat check girl, the
owner, and even the dancers.

He knew each of
the performers by name.

A man dropped by to say
hello and Mark introduced us.

He said he was a photographer,

and there was a
chance he could use me.

So this is how it's done, I thought.

No need pounding the
pavements for a chorus of nos.

All a girl has to do is to
be seen with the right man,

sit at a table, and smile.

He gave me his card, and
invited me to ring his studio

when I was available.

Mark toasted the debut
of a promising career.

What an evening!

I was soaring and lightheaded
when Mark drove me home.

New York was for real, and
not just a dreamer's fantasy.

Extravagance and
glamor really existed.

At last I was seeing
life from the inside,

and I liked what I saw.

The city took on a glow.

Bob and Sally and Charlie were there,

like the conscience of the night.

- I'm glad you did.

By the way hon, you're
going to meet Lil Duncan

on more intimate terms

- Really?

- [Mark] From what
she said last night,

I think she approves.

- I'm flattered.

- Lil is giving one of her parties,

and I have the green
light to bring you along.

- [Ann] But I don't
have a thing to wear.

I'd like to look my best.

- If you look like you
looked last night,

you'll be the belle of the ball.

- That's very kind.

- I never argue with a lady.

About Lil's party, we
should be quite interested.

I'll pick you up.

- Thank you.
- What?

- Thank you.
- Don't thank me.

Thank your parents for
having such good taste.

- But when daylight comes,
promise and fulfillment

are miles apart.

Poor Charlie.

There was another rejection
slip for his collection,

and his spirits were low.

And little old Annie Carson
wasn't doing much better.

Even when you're standing still,

the cleaners and the
laundromats and the grocers

continue to function,

and my savings were fast disappearing.

I couldn't depend on Sally.

She had a brutal schedule as it was.

My guilt was creeping up.

Another session of making rounds

might've been the final blow.

I couldn't smile at
another receptionist,

or listen to another no.

That's it!

What about the card
Mark's friend gave me?

When you're floundering,
you take the first port

in the store.

I called Mr. Vincent.

He remembered me from the club,

and seemed pleased that I phoned.

We made an appointment.

Making an appointment
wasn't finding a job.

I continued looking through
all the casting news.

It was Charlie again.

He wanted a date later in the week.

It made me feel good that
he was so persistent,

and I accepted.

Mr. Vincent had an assignment for me.

Modeling a sports
suit or a wedding gown

under towered lights was
like working under a broiler.

But it wasn't difficult.

And I knew my pictures would appear,

showing me wearing
the latest fashions.

The city, my city, now.

Restless and impatient.

Always tearing down or putting
up gleaming new towers,

like the Americana,
which had just opened.

It was the newest of the new hotels

that were built that year.

Having a schedule to meet
makes the world seem brighter.

When I returned to the studio,

I was beginning to feel I belonged.

Professionalism in
anything is demanding.

I watched the other model pose.

I was tremendously
impressed with the prints

of my first assignment.

But the photographer
still had reservations.

A light here and a shadow there.

He explained how they
might've been improved.

He gave me something to put on,

because he wanted to shoot some tests.

My turn again.

This time, I tried even harder,

hoping to put to use what I had seen.

There was much more to it

than merely smiling for the birdie.

I felt I was getting someplace,

especially with a man
like Mark on my side.

I saw him again, and we
went out on the town.

Driving through Times
Square, Mark was telling me

of the jobs he had lined up.

He had contacted every
important photographer in town.

I looked at the lights
of a thousand signs,

and they all seemed to
be smiling down on me.

The following morning
I was back at work,

and this time I didn't
mind the studio lights.

A kerchief isn't a tweed
suit or a satin gown.

Cheesecake was this
man's bread and butter.

Word gets around fast,

and one assignment leads to another.

They had promoted me from
the pastry department

to higher forms,

where your emotions really count.

We did the craziest things.

Whenever more than
one model was involved,

we were instructed
to act out the scenes,

so we wouldn't appear
posed or unnatural.

"Okay kids, make like it's for real!"

the photographer shouted,

all the while jitterbugging around us

with his camera popping.

From hot to cold and from dry
to soaking in a bubble bath,

selling a product
wasn't exactly my idea

of playing in an old DeMille epic,

but who was I to complain?

The salary was good, and it
was all very businesslike

and easy to take.

No one seemed to notice or
care about how little I wore.

And I soon learned not to
be self conscious about it.

By now I was in demand.

John Hendricks called.

It was to be a series
for paperback books.

An assignment that meant
working on location

the following week.

It sounded exciting, and I was hired.

How wonderful to see Charlie again!

No posing, no acting.

With him I could be myself.

He asked if I'd like to hear
a concert, and I said yes.

Anything with Charlie was fun to do.

We went uptown for tickets,
for the Philharmonic Hall,

the first of the buildings
just opened at Lincoln Center.

There was time before the concert,

and Charlie wanted me to
see the Guggenheim Museum.

A beautiful day.

As we walked through the park,

I was enjoying every breath of air.

Imagining how marvelous life could be.

He was funny and
serious, and never dull,

and I was a little sad
that a fellow like Charlie

hadn't any long-term intentions.

The day finally arrived,

a day I had been waiting for.

Mark phoned and arranged to pick me up

for Lil Duncan's party,

her first big blast of the year.

Again he reminded me that
out of eight million souls,

I was among the chosen.

Lil was the royalty of nightlife.

Someone extra-special,
and I believed Mark,

because wherever I had
worked they knew her,

or knew of her.

Lil Duncan certainly was a big shot.

I recognized one or two faces,

but most of the people
were strange to me.

The talk was gay,
and the glasses filled.

I found it a handsome gathering.

Mark was finally introducing me.

Regal is the word that came to mind.

Lil was sophisticated and poised,

a queen circulating through her court,

with a word or a gesture
to put everyone at ease.

Everything was tastefully served.

At this party there
certainly was no shortage

of food or drink.

Lil knew everyone.

One could tell she radiated success.

Secretly I suppose I admired her.

in a room full of attractive people,

Mark was the most attractive.

He was charming and
relaxed and attentive.

I was enjoying myself tremendously.

He strayed for a moment,
and then called me aside.

"We're going to
Lil's place," Mark said.

"But I thought this
was her place," I said,

a little surprised.

"Not really," he winked.

"This is just where the
squares and hors d'oeuvres

get together."

Lil was inviting a select
group to her place,

her real place, that is.

And I was among the privileged few.

it was quite a place alright.

Spacious, lavishly decorated,
and all in the best of taste.

Mark let himself in.

Lil had given him the key,

and said she would join us later.

We were dancing, and I guess
the drinks were catching up.

I kept thinking of how
sophisticated it was,

of how lucky after so
short a time in New York,

to find myself in
surroundings like these.

Lil was my ideal.

The kind of a woman I
would like to become.

Mark asked me to come aside.

There was an assignment he
wanted to tell me about.

More drinks.

I really had had enough,

but I didn't want
to act like a square.

I could hear that the
party was getting wild.

They were playing something
called strip dice,

and it was for real.

The dice rolled and off came a dress.

Another roll and another garment.

Mark was becoming amorous.

When he started kissing me, I let him.

Behind that slick facade I
felt he was really tender

and generous, or perhaps,

it was the glow of all those drinks.

Or maybe, maybe for a moment,

I thought he was Charlie.

Suddenly my head cleared.

This wasn't Charlie, and I wasn't me.

Mark was becoming aggressive.

I scarcely recognized him.

He was almost like an animal.

I fought him off, and then,
gaining control of my senses,

I ran from the bedroom.

My heart sank.

Searching for my coat,
I suddenly realized

what was happening.

All that phony sophistication,
and provocative small talk,

was leading up to this.

It seemed like a pit
of human forms mauling

and squirming.

It wasn't a party, it
was a full-scale orgy.

When I got home, my head was pounding

with fear and confusion.

I thanked my lucky stars
that at least I was working.

Next morning I
was to pose on location,

about an hour's drive to a
country estate in Connecticut.

When we arrived, John
Hendricks explained the scene

for the first shots
that were to appear

on the cover of the book.

I stood off to one side,
watching Marie and Dave.

Dressed in a bikini, I
was to pose with Dave.

We ran through it once but I
guess I was a little stiff.

Mr. Hendricks had the patience of Job.

He kept asking
me to use more expression,

to give it all I had.

To the camera's eye

it must have seemed
violently passionate,

but to us it was work,

and I was actually uncomfortable
lying on that rock.

But I must say we were
treated with respect.

Finally, Mr. Hendricks
got what he wanted.

Next it was Hank and Marie's
turn to reenact a scene.

Standing off by myself,
it took all the control

I could muster not
to erupt into giggling.

Imagine a girl as beautiful as Marie,

holding up a man just for a kiss.

Whatever I thought, they
were completely involved,

and Hendricks kept snapping away.

The next one was really confusing.

I was with Hank, and
Marie was with Dave.

I could hear Mr. Hendricks yelling.

He was terribly unhappy
with my performance.

He interrupted to explain.

I was to leave Hank
and sit on Dave's lap.

Marie was sit with Hank.

As the scene developed I
began to understand our drama.

This was a suburban saga of bored men,

who swapped their wives.

Look out!

Suddenly, Hank, who was
the most docile of men,

became ferocious, and
was brandishing a whip.

That crimson mess on my
back was really lipstick.

I was being beaten to a pulp.

"Give it everything you have!"

I could hear Hendricks urging us on.

"Beat her within an
inch of her mascara!"

In a moment of inspired
playing, Hank slipped,

and I actually felt
leather grazing my body.

Don't let them fool you.

Modeling can be a most
dangerous profession.

It seems I wasn't the only
one who found the going rough.

- That was great.

You ought to do all my cooking.

- Well, we Carsons really
know how to disarm our men.

- Hands up.

- Not now, baby, it's late.

I have to go.

- You know, this commuter's
love life is for the birds.

You lose more sleep in those subways.

Don't suppose you'd like
to hear the good news.

- You know I would.

- I sold a big seascape.

- Oh, did you!

You've been holding out on me.

You stinker!
- Listen, listen.

The gallery gave me $100 more

than they've ever given me before.

- Oh Bob, darling, I just
think it's wonderful.

- You know, this
almost, but not quite,

having you is really a drag.

I don't want to wait any longer.

- Baby.
- Why don't we get married

right away?

- I heard voices.

It was Sally coming home,
and Bob was with her.

They woke me to tell the news.

Their moment had come.

Tomorrow they were getting a license,

and by Thursday, they
would be Mr. And Mrs.

I was so happy for them.

After all I had been through,

at least something good was happening,

something to cheer my weary spirits.

I dozed off dreaming happy dreams.

It seemed like the middle of the night

when the phone jangled in my brain.

"Hello", I mumbled halfheartedly,

not wanting to
work another assignment,

not wanting to face
another photographer.

It was Charlie, full
of energy and plans.

Didn't I know it was glorious out?

Didn't I realize the
sacrilege of sleeping

through a whole day?

I promised to be
ready in half an hour.

I lay there thinking of Charlie,

wonderful, wonderful Charlie.

There was no one I would
rather hear or see,

or spend the day with.

The morning sun felt warm on my face.

- Lovely, isn't it?

- Yes, everything feels so clean.

- The boy genius is now
a full-fledged author.

- Going to be famous?

Footloose and fancy free?

- Will you be footloose
and fancy free with me?

Ann, I love you.

Please marry me.

- Everything suddenly
looked different.

The trees, the sky, the world.

Was I still asleep?

Charlie was proposing.

And I couldn't believe my ears.

I wanted to savor this moment.

My thoughts turned back
as I began remembering

all that happened since I left home.

My first glimpse at a thousand lights,

and the millions of people.

I remembered Sally's struggles.

Modeling was now a thing
of the past for her.

I remembered those early assignments,

of my innocence and expectations,

that ended in cheesecake
and more cheesecake.

The hours soaking in bath
tubs under scalding lights,

and the gymnastic postures
for girly magazines.

And the true confession
books of insomniacs.

Or those pointless embraces
in imaginary suburbia.

and the back-breaking
poses on location,

giving out with all that you have.

And amorous lovers,
whose only fulfillment

was earning their pay.

Or the mock whippings that
scarred me with lipstick.

And the price of getting ahead,

of making yourself available
for something you don't want,

of drink, and lovemaking
that goes nowhere,

of the glib talkers
and the fleeting pass.

Of men to whom one body is
no better than the rest,

of their cynical and constant chase,

that can only end
with an armful of air.

When I was with Charlie, it was clean,

and good, and wonderful.

Always in the back of my mind,

it was Charlie I wanted.

It was Charlie who would
make fantasy come true.

I looked at Charlie,

and I looked at him,

and I knew it was
Charlie that I loved.

Charlie, please pull off the road.

Yes, darling, I will.