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Joannie: Listen, Roslyn, I've been thinking.
Roslyn: After what I just heard, you were not thinking.
Joannie: Come on, come on. This is serious. This is our lives, not some dress rehearsal. I'm tired of being some slave. I spent my whole life watching my mother cook and clean, never leave the house, never leave the valley. She died looking a hundred. She was only 45. She started out just like us - love in Hollywood High. Next thing you know, there's no money, no love, nothing. She raised all of us. So what? She broke her ass like a Mexican maid, and maybe every two weeks, she'd scrape together a few pennies for a hair set and wash, reading her Hollywood magazines for her high on Hollywood boulevard next to the studios. Big deal.
Roslyn: You're having an affair, aren't you?
Joannie: We have to live before we die. We're kids playing mothers to kids... and that includes our so-called husbands.


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