"She wears little eye-patch underwear," said Duvall, who is married with two children. "So, the other day she came here with her underwear, Thursday. And so, we had made love Wednesday--a lot! And so she'll, she's all, 'I am going up and down the stairs, and you're dripping out of me!' So messy!" ***OR*** Along with a whupping stick and ripped abs, he's got a philosophy degree from NYU! So in between turning out-of-line drunken dirtbags into bloody hamburger meat, Swayze fires off such pearly bons mots as ''Nobody ever wins a fight'' and ''Be nice...until it's time to not be nice.''

The first and only time I go to Outback Steakhouse, Rebecca and I have an argument in the backseat of her father’s car about whether or not we should be together, while her father sits up front listening to Chopin. After arguing in the parking lot for fifteen minutes we join her father, her mother, and two of her sisters inside. Her youngest sister is 17 going on 12 and still requests a children’s menu. Her father points to the menu flirting with the waitress not unlike a clown would to a child, bending a balloon into a balustrade. They have ordered a round of sodas and a gigantic fried onion, whereupon arrival everyone holds hands saying grace aloud in the restaurant, all but me. Their eyes are closed and mine are open and I can see other patrons wondering what we’re doing. I’m wondering what we’re doing. While they’re thanking god for the food I’m thinking about the movie Roadhouse, starring Patrick Swayze. I think about how Swayze didn’t want any anesthetic before getting nine staples in his side. I think about how Swayze kicked everyone’s ass and did tai chi every morning at sunrise. I think about how Swayze seduced the prominent blond doctor who staples his side. I think about the end of the movie where Swayze tears out the jugular of his nemesis, and wonder why he doesn’t go to prison. Furthermore, I think about how AMC always fuzzes out the breasts. One scene in particular involves Patrick Swayze staring out into the night from his barn loft. Across the pond is a pool party in Wesley’s backyard. When you watch this on AMC it is always a blur of different colored bathing suits, splashing water, and fuzzed out breasts. When the family finishes their prayer they all tear into the fried onion dowsing it in ketchup and ranch dressing. They talk about choir practice. They talk about how much they hate George Bush. They talk about pain meds and anti-depressants. They ask me about my day. I tell them about Anne Waldman parading through the Performing Arts Center in an elaborate gown, scarves, and a mask. Cara smiles and makes a joke and the family laughs. Christina begs for me to help her with her children’s menu crossword puzzle. Jane twists her wedding ring and impolitely asks the waitress for more lemon. Then Rebecca pulls my hand from my perspiring cola and buries it between her legs and says, “I’ll fuck you tonight if you’ll promise to marry me."