Waitress

Jenna:
Dear Baby, I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.

Old Joe:
I love living vicariously through the pain and suffering of others.

Jenna:
Cal, are you happy? I mean, when you call yourself a happy man, do you really mean it?

Cal:
You ask a serious question, I'll give you a serious answer: Happy enough. I don't expect much. I don't get much, I don't give much. I generally enjoy whatever comes along. That's my answer for you, summed up for your feminine consideration. I'm happy enough.

Jenna:
[about to have her baby] Dr. Pomatter?

Dr. Pomatter:
Yes, Jenna?

Jenna:
I just want to make sure we're clear about one thing.

Dr. Pomatter:
What's that, Jenna?

Jenna:
I want drugs. I want massive amounts of drugs. I want the maximum legal limit of drugs.

Dr. Pomatter:
Noted and understood.

Dr. Pomatter:
So, what seems to be the problem?

Jenna:
I seem to be pregnant

Dr. Pomatter:
Congratulations!

Jenna:
Thanks, but I'm not so happy about it like everybody else might be. I'm having the baby and that's that.

Dr. Pomatter:
I want to talk to you, somewhere outside of here. Maybe we can have a coffee or something?

Jenna:
I can't have coffee, it's on the bad food list you gave to me. What kind of doctor are you?

Dr. Pomatter:
I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes

Jenna:
Wow...

[she looks up at him in wonder before giving in to a kiss]

Earl:
Hey. You remember what I said - don't you go lovin' that baby too much.

Jenna:
I don't love you, Earl. I haven't loved you for years. I want a divorce.

Earl:
[laughs] Well, that's not a funny joke. You got this new baby here, you shouldn't be making jokes like that...

Jenna:
I want you the hell out of my life. You are never to touch me, ever again; I am done with you. If you ever come within six yards of me, I will flatten your sorry ass and I'll enjoy doin' it.

Earl:
Open the cabinet where the coffee and the sugar jars are.

Jenna:
I don't want...

Earl:
[shouting] Just open it!

[Jenna opens the cabinet, and money falls out]

Earl:
What is that, Jenna? What is that?

Jenna:
Money.

Earl:
It's all over the f***in' house! In cabinets, in drawers, under chairs, in closets! Money hidden all over my house!

Jenna:
[whispering] I'm sorry.

Earl:
After everything I've done for you, you go and hide money from me? [falls to his knees, sobbing] You're the only thing I ever loved, Jenna. You're the only person that ever belonged to me. And you having a secret from me tears me up.

Jenna:
Dear Baby: If I was writing you a letter, it would probably sounds something like an apology. I know everyone deserves a mama who'd want a nice baby such as yourself... who was also a good wife, a fine member of a society. And I can't rightly say that I'm any of that. And I'm not sure the world is scuh a fine place to bringing you. Many of the people I've met are not worth meeting. Many of the things that happened are not worth living through. And you shouldn't take it personal, Baby... if I don't seem like all the other mama-to-be, jumping all over themselves with joy. I frankly don't know what I got to give you, Baby. What if I leave Earl, and don't win that contest next week, and don't have money? What the hell am I gonna give you then? All my life, Baby, the only thing I wanna do is run away. What kind of mama is that? I wish I could think other things, Baby, like excitement that you with me now... or faith that I'll be a good mama... even if my life ain't such a good place, and the world as I see it ain't so pretty like they'd have you believe in this book. Anyway, writing this letter to you, sounds more like a letter writing to me, don't it? Love, Mama.

Jenna:
Why did I get drunk? I do stupid things when I'm drunk... like sleep with my husband!

Jenna:
Dear damn baby, If you ever want to know the story of how we bought your damn crib, I will tell you. Your crib was bought with the money that was supposed to buy me a new life. Every time I lay you down in that damn crib, I'm gonna think, 'Damn baby. Damn Crib. Me stuck like a pin in this damn life.'

Ogie:
[to Dawn] If I had a penny for everything I love about you, I would have many pennies.