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[Seymour is trying to interest a fellow collector in a record he's selling
] Paul, the Fussy Guy - Record Collector
: It has a enlarged centre hole and a hair-crack. Seymour
: But the crack is so tight it's completely inaudible. Paul, the Fussy Guy - Record Collector
: But a tight hair-crack is just that - a crack. I don't collect cracked records. I only pay premium on mint records. Seymour, you know that. Please.
[he walks away. Enid, who has been listening, goes up to Seymour
: So what was all that about enlarged holes and tight cracks?
: I can't relate to 99% of humanity.
: I think only stupid people have good relationships. Seymour
: That's the spirit.
: You know, we need to find a place where you can go to meet women who share your interests. Seymour
: Well maybe I don't want to meet someone who shares my interests. I hate my interests. Enid
: Yeah, yeah, just list your five main interests in order of importance. Seymour
: Uh... I'd have to put traditional jazz, blues and then ragtime at the top of the list... Enid
: Right, so, let's just say music. That way we only use up one.
[Seymour can't wait for two mothers and their many kids to cross an intersection
: What are we, in slow motion here? C'mon, what are you, hypnotized? Have some more kids, why don't you? Jesus Christ, *move it*!
[Seymour shows Enid his "record room"
: [looking at Seymour's record cabinet
] Are all these records? Seymour
: I've got about 1500 78's at this point. I've tried to pare down my collection to just the essentials. Enid
: [looking at all the classic memorabilia in the room
] Look at this room. This is like my dream room! Look at all this stuff... You are, like, the luckiest guy in the world. I would kill to have stuff like this. Seymour
: Please, go ahead and kill me. Enid
: Oh, come on, what are you talking about? Seymour
: Well, you think it's healthy to obsessively collect things? You can't connect with other people, so you fill your life with stuff. I'm just like all the rest of these pathetic collector losers. Enid
: No, you're not, you're a cool guy, Seymour! Seymour
: If I'm so cool how come I haven't had a girlfriend in like four years? I can't even remember the last time a girl talked to me. Enid
: I'm talking to you. You know, I bet there are tons of women who go out with you in a minute. I know I could you a date in, like, two seconds. Seymour
: Good luck. Enid
: I mean it. You leave everything to me. I'm gonna be your own personal dating service. Seymour
: Yeah, well, we should get back. Enid
: By the end of this summer, you're gonna be up to your neck in pussy. Seymour
: [looking at the racist logo of Coon Chicken Inn
] So, I don't really get it... Are you saying that things were better back then, even though there was stuff like this? Seymour
: I suppose things are better now, but... I don't know, it's complicated. People still hate each other but they just know how to hide it better. Or something.
: Well, I have to admit that things are really starting to look up for me since my life turned to shit.
: I am so excited to see this film. Dustoff Varnya is such a brilliant director. Did you see his last film, The Flower that Drank the Moon? It was... glorious. Seymour
: I must have missed that one. Then again, what do I know? I like Laurel and Hardy movies. Dana
: Really? I never really cared for those. I mean, why does the fat one always have to be so mean to the skinny one?
[Seymour's phone rings
: Aren't you going to get that? Seymour
: Let the machine get it. I have no desire to talk to anyone who might be calling me.
: [a busty young blonde woman is walking down the street in their direction
] What about her? Are you into girls with big tits? Seymour
: So, was that your boyfriend? Enid
: Josh? He's nobody's boyfriend. He's just this guy that Becky and I like to torture.
: [picking up a swinging metal ornament of a cowboy on a horse
] What is this? Seymour
: Dana got it when we went shopping for antiques. She said it didn't go with her stuff, so she gave it to me. Said it would go better with my 'old-time thingamajigs'.
: Jesus, how can you stand her?
[Enid is looking through some posters at Seymour's place and discovers this grotesque, racist caricature of a black man's face - the logo of Coon Chicken Inn
: What the...? What is this, Seymour? Seymour
: Oh, that. I borrowed that from work about 15 years ago. I guess it's mine now. Enid
: What, are you a... Klansman or something? Seymour
] Yeah, I'm a Klansman.
: You know what my number one fantasy used to be? Seymour
: What? Enid
: I used to think about one day, just not telling anyone, and going off to some random place. And I'd just... disappear. And they'd never see me again. Did you ever think about stuff like that? Seymour
: I guess I probably did when I was your age. Enid
: You know what we should do? We should just get in your car right now, and just drive off. Just find some totally new place and start a whole new life. Fuck everybody. Seymour
: I'm, uh, I'm not in any good condition to drive. Enid
: I'm serious! I'm just so sick of everybody. Why can't I just do what I want? Seymour
: What do you want? Enid
: What do you want?
[a pause. They look into each other's eyes
: Don't you like me?
: How come in all that time I was trying to get you a date, you never asked me out? Seymour
] You're a beautiful young girl, I couldn't imagine you'd have any interest in me except as an amusingly cranky eccentric curiosity. Enid
: At least you're not like every other stupid guy in the world. All they care about is guitars or sports. Seymour
: I hate sports.
: It's a waste of time trying to logically figure out the female brain, that's for sure. Maybe she got another boyfriend.
: Well... thanks for cheering me up!
[When asked what kind of women he likes
: Well, as long as she's not a complete imbecile and she's even remotely attractive.