 That's really strange. I mean, when Francis and I were happy, I don't think there was a girl on the street I didn't stare at for ten minutes. I used to take the wrong subway home just following a pair of legs. But since we broke up, I don't even know what a woman looks like. Well, either I could go downstairs and buy a couple of magazines, or I could make a phone call. What are you saying? I'm saying, let's spend one night talking to someone with higher voices than us.