The Thin Line

I'm putting a stop to this.

To what?

This!

Bad decisions, selling your body for chump change, the litany of men.

Demeaning women by calling yourself one.

Tomorrow you'll come back to Washington with the rest of your family.

I'm not just going to leave.

I'm your father. I raised you as a respectable woman.

Whatever's happened since you moved to Montana is going to stop.

I like it here.

Enough to hurt your family?

Your mom worries all the time, your sister's blown up since you left.

And one day with you here...

Looks are all you have, but there's no excuse for this.

Whoa!

Wait a second.

This is a horrible place to start.

This makes my dad seem like the bad guy.

I deserve this.

Hang on...

Aw, cute... but no.

Oh, hell no. There's no way you're ever going to see that.

Hilarious! No.

Okay, this is good.

This is me.

Jessica McDees.

Oh, geez. Look at me, looking all Emo.

Except for the black dye of course. That makes my hair crispy.

But, in my defense, I was in a car for six hours,

and my sister's big reveal yesterday didn't exactly...

Okay, this...

This isn't as melodramatic as it seems.

I wish I knew why I was so unhappy. My life's not that bad.

But man, am I bad at it.

So when you have a pimple you hit it with an acne pad.

And I know what you're thinking: That's quitting. That's the easy way out.

There's nothing easy about this. Not if you're going to do it right.

I mean, you never want to stand out, so you gotta be subtle.

And unless you want to be the girl who cried wolf, you better be effective.

And always, always, always,

you've gotta be presentable.

Take jumping off a bridge for example.

Right off the bat, you can kiss the "subtle" card goodbye.

And there's no room for wavering 'cause rush-hour drivers stuck in the mess

are gonna demand a body for their troubles.

Which is fine, except that bridge-jumping is a rush.

So your brain's gonna release endorphins, and endorphins make you feel good

and when you feel good, you don't wanna die.

So suddenly, you're falling, going, "Oh Crap, that was a bad idea!"

But gravity won't change its mind like you did.

So let's say you succeed,

and you don't just end up spending the next six weeks

trying to pull stretch pants over a body cast,

you're still not going to wash onshore looking like Debra Kerr.

You're gonna get dragged out in a fish net.

Pretzeled,

probably covered in seaweed, and host to a family of leeches.

And those marks

look like hickeys in a casket.

Of course, nobody will notice the hickeys

because their eyes will be drawn to the puke-green shower cap

Lazy Morty the Mortician snapped on your head

instead of actually trying to brush out the rat's nest

the salt water left of your hair.

Oh yeah,

and salt water's bloating.

This is your final viewing.

This is how people will remember you.

This, on the other hand, would be quick.

Private.

Run a little water, even clean.

All Morty'd have to do is throw on a cute little wrist-wrap and voila!

People would remember you beautiful.

And you are as people perceive you.

All it'd take is a little courage

and a thin red line would melt everyth--

Oh good! You're back!

Oh my God!

Courtney-Lynn Stack. My cousin.

Wanna feel maladjusted? Hang out with her for ten minutes.

She's that together.

Not again! Jess, are you crazy? What are you doing?

I can't believe you girl.

There.

Now when you pass out, your wrists won't stain the linoleum.

Alright. I lova ya.

Kisses! I gotta get to work.

Wow.

This is gonna make it difficult to die with dignity.

Great.

Now I have to go to work.

Oh, great.

Robert Seethis.

Living proof you can make a human being out of bile.

There's not a civil bone in his body.

I only know his name 'cause of his credit card.

If there was an antidote to my life,

he'd be the poison.

He's our best customer.

Excuse me.

Excuse me. Can I have a seat?

What?

I want to sit down. I need a seat.

I can't hear you.

Well, take your ear phones out.

Yeah, I can't... I'm wearing ear phones.

Take your ear phones out.

Take 'em out.

Take the...?

Move!

I can't under--

Do you not speak...?

Oh my God!

Good morning.

That's my boss. The man who gave me a shot.

Jose Chavez.

Fashion mogul. Entrepreneur with a Cheshire Cat smile.

Whitefish's answer to confetti poppers.

Everyone calls him Junior.

Not because he's short. It's because he's got tiny hands.

Really tiny. Baby hands. His fingers are like light switches.

Very creepy.

You're late. Again.

I know. I'm sorry.

Oh! Well, as long as you're sorry.

Again.

Seriously, I had to drive all the way to Spokane and back last night--

Bah bah bah bah

Listen, I wish your story made me money, I really do,

because I'm dying to hear how it ends.

But you know what this is?

All this?

A coffee shop?

That's right! It's a coffee shop.

Built

with these two hands.

Built to sell coffee, not stories.

So as long as Jessica works for Jose,

Jose expects Jessica to show up on time

and to sell...

Coffee?

Coffee! Yes! Good job!

So when I walk up in the room I know

you ain't ever met a girl like me. Uh-uh.

You ain't never met a girl.

They say I'm different I know

She's bringing sexy back.

Hey! You made it!

I'm glad.

You're the only one.

Not true. Robert is always excited to see you.

Oh God, he's already out there.

You gotta take him. Seriously, I'm not up for it today.

I'm sorry Sweety, no can do. Not a prayer.

Emotional breadown or not, he's in your section and them's the rules.

You suck.

Do you want to talk about it?

Audrey's pregnant.

What?

No way. She's like 15!

Your dad must have flipped.

He won't even let her back in the house.

Oh, man. Wait, who's the father?

She won't say.

Carl's driving her up later today.

Carl's coming!

Yeah, that's cool. I hope he can stay forever.

It's a long way to Whitefish, Courtney-Lynn.

I can't just have him turn right back around and go home.

Oh, you mean make the exact same round-trip that you made just last night?

Ladies!

It's 6 a.m. and the door's are locked, which means I'm losing money.

And Jose don't like to lose money.

Mach schnell!

And here it is:

The beginning, middle, and end of every day of my life.

That's Britney Bouchand, our French exchange student.

She's... nice.

Darla Dietrich. Lovingly referred to as Heifer.

She wears it like a badge of honor.

She's a concert pianist with an espresso maker.

When Junior refused to hire her, she made a call to the A.C.L.U.

So he did hire her.

Then he put the espresso machine on stilts.

Come on, ladies!

Doors are closed! Clothes are on!

I'm not making any money! Let's go!

Come on! Get 'em off!

Oh, what a face. That's a sad face.

I don't care. I don't care.

It's like a retarded stripper camp.