[After a disastrous dinner service, CeCe and Gordon are sitting on a bench outside the restaurant]
You all right? (CeCe is sobbing) No, come on.
(CeCe continues sobbing)
I can’t start to even attempt to help unless you come to terms with the problem, and that is the food.
It’s good when I cook!
Come on! This is not a game for me!
It’s not a fucking game for me; this is my life! It’s not a joke for me! Don’t start saying that; it’s not a joke! It’s not a joke for me. I care! If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t fucking be here, so stop saying I don’t care! Just stop, please.
I haven’t said that!
Yes, you did.
What I’m trying to tell you is that you have to come to terms, internally, that there is a huge problem and that is with the food.
(interview) Nobody wants to hear that anything that they do sucks. I don’t like to fail. Death would be better than failing.
It’s certainly not a sign of weakness to admit your failings. I’ve closed three restaurants but I also have a number of successful ones. One-thousand, six-hundred and fifty members...
I know who you are.
That’s—
And it’s— It’s— I—
A “jerk,” you told me earlier.
Well, you can be a jerk.
Stop acting like a petulant teenager! I’m not gonna stand there and be a doormat for you to take the piss out of me. Let’s get one thing right: you asked me here and I’m here to help, so let me in.
Okay, the food sucks. There, you happy?
There’s a problem with the way the food is prepared, there’s a problem with the way the food is ordered, there’s a problem with the way the food is not respected... I’m sorry, CeCe, but it’s just not good enough.
(CeCe sobs some more)
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