English Majors script
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Listen

Garrison Keillor: And now, a message from the Partnership of English Majors. (TABLEWARE)

Sue Scott: Oh, Frank. This is so wonderful — I never went to a steakhouse before.

Tim Russell: Yeah, well. No biggie.

SS: You suppose they have salads here?

TR: Heck yes. Whatever. — Here, I got you something.

SS: What's this? A little bright blue box wrapped in a white ribbon—

TR: Yeah, the way I see it-- our information-gathering phase is over and it's time to move the relationship into third gear. So I'd like to gift you with this box.

SS: Sorry, you'd like to-what?

TR: Gift you. I'm gifting you here.

SS: Oh. Oh dear-I don't know--

TR: So what do you say, Jessica? Are you in or out?

SS: I like you, Frank...but— when I hear you use "gift" as a verb—

TR: Whatcha talking about?

SS: Gift is a noun, Frank. It shouldn't be used as a verb.

TR: Oh please. You're not going to be one of those people, are you?

SS: I am one of those people, Frank. I'm an English major-I thought you understood that.

TR: I thought you'd get over that, Jessica.

SS: Frank, being an English major is not something you get over. It's who I am. Language matters to me.

GK: Would you two like to see the dessert menu?

TR: Listen, mister, bug off, we got something going on here.

SS: Please, Frank—

GK: We have an audacious cheesecake tonight that is refulgent with cheese, a shimmering and resplendent dessert with plump, one might almost say Rubensesque, cherries on top.

TR: Hey, did you hear me, creep? Amscray.

SS: Did you say "Rubensesque?"

GK: Yes, of course.

SS: Most people would say "Rubenesque"—

GK: I know, but that would be wrong.

SS: Exactly. It refers to the painter. Peter Paul Rubens.

GK: Of course.

SS: You're the first person I know who has used that word correctly. I want to cry.

GK: Please. Here's a fresh napkin.

SS: For a moment, I thought you might be— but o no, I'm being silly—

GK: You thought I might be what?

SS: You're a waiter, but somehow I thought you might be a poet—

GK: I have a book of poems coming out next month. It's called "A Small Salad On The Side".

SS: Oh my gosh.

GK: It's my first collection.

SS: I'd give anything to read it!

GK: It's back at my apartment.

SS: Let me get my coat.

TR: Guess I'll take this ring and get out of here.

SS: Goodbye, Frank.

TR: I could've offered you a lot, Jessica. A lot.

SS: Maybe so. But there was no poetry, Frank.

TR: What????

SS: Poetry. (ROMANTIC VIOLIN) I could never be happy in that enormous condo of yours. That expensive furniture. The pool, the Jacuzzi. You forgot something, Frank.

TR: What was that?

SS: A bookshelf. There were no bookshelves. —Come.

GK: I'll get your coat. And here, sir.

TR: The bill. Oh thanks a lot.

GK: You're welcome.

TR: Don't expect a big tip, bozo.

GK: Eighteen percent. It's included.

TR: Curses! (MUTTERS OF RAGE)

GK: A message from the Partnership of English Majors.