Agnes, get a load of that guy over there. What in the world . . .” Horace is dispatching running commentary as they wait for the 424 bus. Agnes is exhausted after a full day of sightseeing and can’t wait to get off her feet.
“Horace dear, don’t be unkind.”
“C’mon, Agnes,” Horace moans. “The best part of coming to the city is people-watching.”
“That’s true, sweetheart, but don’t forget, they’re looking at you, too.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Horace asks plainly.
“Luckily nothing . . . because I pick out all your clothes,” Agnes says nonchalantly while peering out for the bus.
Horace laughs out loud. “Very well, I will be good.” Just as he declares silence, a lady walks by who looks just like Ernest Borgnine.