[eating doughnut in diner] Hmm.
You two want a room? [Annie stares cluelessly] You and the doughnut.
Oh. I'm sorry. It's just, um, my mom never let me have this stuff.
Hmm.
It's just... Weight gain in our household was a capital crime. But my dad, um, he'd take me to Dunkin' on the sly. And he would get me a chocolate cream-filled doughnut, and he'd ask me to tell him about my day. And he'd... he'd listen.
Baskin-Robbins. Every Sunday after church. My pops, he'd always ask for samples. Now, this place had 31 flavors, and that man would taste each and every flavor every time we'd go up in there. There'd be a line all the way out the door. People would be mad as hell. Yelling, cussing, "Yo, my man, get your fucking ice cream and bounce!" You think that stopped him? Hell nah, he would stand right there and order another sample. "Can I please try the Jamoca Almond Fudge, please?" My ass was so embarrassed. I'd be sitting there, wishing the floor would just open up and just swallow me whole. Man. 'Course, now I'd give a year off my life just to be able to see that man going through spoon after spoon just one last time.
When did he...?
Sixteen years ago. [toasting] To fathers and sugar.
To fathers and sugar.
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