 Last ten years, old Mike has been hopping out for a half hour every night that way. To Gil's place around the corner. Mitchell, I'm leaving you. I'm tired of this life. Earning nothing a week. Always counting the money other men have made for their women. I'm leaving you, Mitchell. Phyllis! Come on. Maybe I'd been mapping this out unconsciously for years. But now I was in the driver's seat. Phyllis. Why? Why?