Diane: What's wrong?
Sam: He lost it a week ago in Kansas City. He was putting off telling me about it.
Diane: Kansas City. One town I've always wanted to see. Huh? We'll jump on a plane... Oh, well, what's the difference? Easy come, easy go, huh? Come on, Sam. Let's get out. [Sam slaps the wooden frame of the bar]
Sam: Go home. Diane...
Diane: I tell you what. Even better. Let's just talk, you know?
Sam: What are you gonna tell me that I haven't heard a hundred times, huh?
Diane: Oh, come on, Sam. It's important that you not be here tonight, huh? You don't wanna be in a bar.
Sam: Where am I gonna be tomorrow night, and the next, and the day after, huh? I'm gonna be in a bar.
Diane: But you're gonna feel better tomorrow.
Sam: No. No, I'm gonna feel better tonight.
Diane: Here's an idea. Why don't you watch me get drunk? I'll get real sick... Sam, no-
Sam: Don't. Just don't.
[Sam uncaps a beer, pours it into a glass and stares at it. He slides it down, around the bar and picks up the cap.]
Sam: I guess I gave the wrong one to Rick, huh?