Ann : I don't know what I'm gonna get him for Christmas yet. He's already got everything. Mark : He doesn't need anything anymore. Ann : Well, I haven't decided what I'm gonna get you yet. Mark : Better start looking. Ann : What about me? Mark : You'll see. Ann : A lot of fun you are. You're supposed to tease me, give me hints, make me guess, you know. Mark : Does it bother you? Ann : What? Mark : Walking around in circles. Ann : [spotting a derelict on the park bench] Oh look, that's terrible. Mark : He's not hurting anyone. Ann : Neither are we. Oh God. Every time I see one of those old guys, I-I always think the same thing. Mark : What do you think? Ann : I always think that he was once somebody's baby boy...and he had a mother and a father who loved him. And now, there he is, half-dead on a park bench and where is his mother or his father or his uncles now? Anyway, that's what I always think. Mark : I always think of how when they had the newspaper strike in New York, more of those old guys died. Fifty of them frozen died in one night. Ann : Just because there were no newspapers? Mark : Really.

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