Transcrição (en)

So, uh, I take it you don't do white guys? I just happen to prefer black men. It's not a prejudice, it's a preference. Sure. It's your preference to be prejudiced. What about you? Women are women. Some are poison, some are sweet. Ever date a black girl? All kinds of girls. Mm, so you're a player. No. I'm just a landscaper. Speaking of which, it's late. Need a hand with us? No, thank you. Oh, thanks for dinner. You're welcome. And I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Are you asking me out on a date? I'm asking you to go hiking. Well, then the answer is double no. I don't even like hiking. Heads or tails? Who, in their right mind, would go out in heat like this? I mean, what is the point? Don't look down. Look up. Look at the mountains. I'm looking for rattlesnakes. Don't worry about rattlesnakes. The mountain lions eat most of them. Very funny. Shit! My hair! I'm gonna kill you! I swear I didn't see it coming! You take this off. What do you mean? I mean, it's not a wig, right? It's not your real hair either, is it? I can't believe you just asked me that. I'm sorry, I'm just curious. It's a weave, if you must know. I thought you dated black girls. They have real hair. I have real hair too. Underneath? Yes, underneath. So what, they just, they sew in? Something like that. You know what? I think you should leave. This isn't gonna work. I don't know what I was thinking. It was a really, really stupid mistake. Now, please go. Well, because I asked about your hair? Because of everything And furthermore effective today I will no longer be needing your services as a landscaper Take it out Just getting the rest of my stuff I knew it What? You're gorgeous. Don't worry about the balance. Wait. Don't go. Good job. Thank you. Thank you. I'm glad y'all came. This is my girl, Cheryl. Hi. How you doing? Hi. Nice to meet you. That's Candy. Hi. How are you? Hi. I'm Brian. Hi. See y'all brought your nightlight with you, huh? Girl, either you get your swirl on or you got your probation off. I don't blame you. Why did you cut your hair? It was your shining glory. It was a weave, Mother. Well, it suited you. Come on, take me in the house so I can freshen up. So, you did all this? Yeah, let me show you around. Can you? Look at this place. You have gone all bohemian, my dear. What on earth has gotten into you? The white boys at the plantation are getting on my last nerve, that's all. Have we put the white boys on hold for some minute? You're asking me to not talk about race? No, I didn't say that. You expect me to be in this relationship with you and never bring it up? You're a senior manager at one of the whitest firms in the country, all right? You graduate at the top of your class from Stanford and Wharton, for Christ's sakes. You own a home. You earn more money than what? 98% of the country, black or white. Certainly more than me. So, you know, tell me about your frustrations, because I'm listening. No, no, you don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear about how when I show up at an account meeting, they always have to regroup when they find out I'm the one who's responsible for their multi-million dollar acquisition. They'd rather trust it to a file clerk, the guy who gets me my goddamn coffee, because he's white. I'm never gonna be on the right side of the war going on inside your head, because I'm not black. I'm never gonna be black. So maybe this isn't what you want. Maybe it just isn't gonna work. Maybe it's not.