[JOE hears a car approaches and whistles. A taxi pulls up. Joe gets up, pats her on the shoulder]. Get yourself some coffee; you'll be alright. [He goes over to the cab, looks back to see her lying back down. The driver notices too and looks away innocently when he sees Joe looking at him. Joe goes back over to Ann, trying to stir her] Look: you take the cab.
ANN [without stirring] Mmmmm.? Joe looks back at the driver who rests his arm against the window, impatiently.
JOE. Come on; [takes her up by the arm] climb in the cab and go home.
ANN [as she drags herself to her feet, helped by Joe] Mmmmm...mmmmmm, so happy.
JOE. You got any money?
ANN. Never carry money.
JOE. That's a bad habit.
ANN. Mm.
JOE. Alright, I'll drop you off; come on. [He leads her to the taxi].
ANN [brightly; noticing it for the first time] It's a taxi!
JOE. Well, it's not the super chief. [He follows her into the cab].
CAB DRIVER [says something in Italian] Where are we going?
JOE [to Ann] Where do you live?
ANN. Mmmmmm? [Closing her eyes] Colliseum.
JOE. Now, come on, you're not that drunk.
ANN [laughing] If you're so smart I'm not drunk at all. I'm just being [her head falls against his chest] verrrrry haaaappy......
JOE. Hey, now, don't fall asleep again.
CAB DRIVER [first speaks something in Italian] Where are we- we going? [Joe says something in Italian, impatiently.] Ok. [Turns back around].
JOE. Look, now where do you wanna to go? Hmmm? Where shall I take you? [Holding her jaw, shaking her head; Ann moans in annoyance] Where do- where do- where do you live? Huh? huh? Come on. Come on, [lightly slapping her face with his hand] where do you live? [The driver looks back, unimpressed] Come on, where do you live?!
ANN [mumbling, half-asleep] I....ohhhhh....Colliseum.
JOE [hopelessy; to the cab driver] She lives in the Colliseum.
CAB DRIVER [shakes his head] It's wrong address. Now look, senor: for me it is very late tonight ... [some Italian] ... wife ... [more Italian] ... I have three bambinos-three bambinos, you know, bambino? [he pretends to cry like a small child] My- my taxi go home, I- I go home er to- together. Senor-.
JOE [giving up, sitting back] Villa Marguta, fifty-one.
CAB DRIVER [pleased, finally] Villa Marguta, fifty-one. [Pleased] Oh, [some Italian]!? The taxi drives off.
