“You’re a long way from Memphis.”
“Memphis has nothing to do with it.”
“Bullshit. That dog won’t hunt.”
Wade Garrett does not understand why Dalton cannot forgive himself for killing the husband of the woman he was dating in Memphis, and from hunting dogs on down he tries every rhetorical trick in the book to convince Dalton to, as he puts it, “cut it the fuck loose.” He peremptorily dismisses Dalton’s denialism, for starters. He says he’s living in the past. He makes a tongue-in-cheek appeal to Dalton’s schooling and wonders why he isn’t “a little more…philosophical about it.” He cajoles, he rages. He points out the facts—that “that fucking c…that girl never told you she was married”—so emphatically that it takes visible force of will for him not to call the woman involved a cunt in a family restaurant.
Then it all comes down to the way of the warrior, the knight errant, the cooler. “When a man sticks a gun in your face, you got two choices: You can die or you can kill the motherfucker!” The oath springs from his mouth so fast there’s practically a recoil.
Wade Garrett wants his mijo to be happy, with his job, his town, his new c…his new girl. Seeing him conflicted, unhappy even, makes Wade feel awful. His own best friend is being his own worst enemy. What do you do under those circumstances? Is it time to be nice or is it time to not be nice? Wade Garrett chooses both approaches, though the latter wins out in the end, as it so often does.
Tags: dalton, memphis, road house, wade garrett