SS : Why do you always leave dishtowels lying on the counter like this? There's a rack for dishtowels. Right there. You don't have to throw it on the counter. And the same with sponges. You wipe up something with a sponge, you just dump it in the sink and let the bacteria go to town. It goes up here on this sponge rack. Okay? Are you listening to me? I'm just trying to make the house nice and I don't see why I have to go around picking up sponges out of the sink and dishtowels that you've thrown on the counter. Am I your maid? And who tracked dirt into the kitchen? Look at that. Down there. Why can't you wipe your feet when you come in? And why do I always have to put the salt shaker back in the cupboard? Why do you insist on leaving it here on the counter. And one more thing. I've told you over and over. Don't spit in the sink. Spit in the toilet.
SS : What?
GK: I'm leaving for Lubbock tonight.
SS : Why???
GK: Just need to go to Lubbock.
SS : You keep going back to Lubbock ----- I don't understand it. What do you do there?
GK: Just stand around in a backyard with a bunch of guys and drink beer and look at a fire burning in a firepit and look at the stars overhead and talk a little and not worry about towels and sponges and salt shakers. And we spit on the ground and we pee on rocks.
SS : How long you going to be in Lubbock?
SS : Is something wrong?
SS : Did I say something wrong?
GK: Nothing's wrong. I just need to get away.
TR: LUBBOCK, TEXAS. A PLACE TO GET AWAY.
FN: (HAWK, SPIT) Beer?
GK: Sure. (POP TOP) Thanks.
FN: Where you from?
FN: You want to talk about it?
GK: Not really.
FN: You want to bond?
FN: Good. Neither do I.
GK: You from Lubbock?
GK: Nice town.
GK: Nice backyard. Fire. Stars. (HAWK SPIT) A guy could get used to this.
FN: You can say that again.
TR: LUBBOCK, TEXAS. A GUY COULD GET USED TO IT.
(SLIGHT WIND, DISTANT TRAFFIC, DISTANT DOG BARK)