You'll Never Know Her

“You’re a very good dancer.”
“Sure”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you. It’s just that I know I’m a good dancer.”
“Oh, wow. What an ego. Do you come here often?”
“Yes. I like this place. It swings.”
“Well maybe you can take me here next week.”
“But I didn’t ask you.”
“Well, if I want to go, I’m sure you’ll take me.”
“Now, look, Lelia, where I come from, the men do the asking. The girls just go yes or no.”
“Well. I guess I just don’t fit into that pattern, now, do I?”
“No, you don’t. As a matter of fact, you’re just a little too much for me.”
“Well, then why don’t you take me home? Why did you ask me in the first place?”
“Now, steady, girl. Do you always shout down your boyfriends that way?”
“I never shout.”
“Well, it would seem that way to me . . . Look, do you always go around embarrassing people in front of strangers? I mean laughing at them in front of your family, keeping them waiting for hours just to show off how masculine you are.”
“Darling, I’m not masculine.”
“Well, it would seem that way to me.”
[Giggling] “Well, how do you want me to behave?”
“Look, just dance. And be as lovely as you look.”
“Look, David, I am what I am, and nobody tells me what to do.”
“Look, I don’t know who you think you’re fighting. You know, I saw the way he looked at you back there. And I also saw the way he looked at me . . . You know, despite your horrible exterior, it’s you I like.”

Shadow, by John Cassavetes