Comienzo de la película.
"Me llamo Lester Burnham. Este es mi barrio. Esta es mi calle. Esta es mi vida. Tengo cuarenta y dos años. En menos de un año habré muerto.(Suena el despertador.) Claro que eso no lo sé aún. Y en cierto modo, ya estoy muerto. (Fundido. Ahora, desnudo, en la ducha). Aquí me tienen, cascándomela en la ducha. Para mí, el mejor momento del día.A partir de aquí, todo va a peor."
Cuando deja el trabajo.
Brad (leyendo lo escrito por Lester Burham): My job consist of basically masking my contempt for the assholes in charge and at least once a day retiring to the men’s room so I can jerk off while I fantasize about a life that doesn’t so closely resemble hell.
Brad: Well, you obviously have no interest in saving yourself.
LB: Brad, for 14 years, I’ve been a whore for the advertising industry. The only way I could save myself now is if I start firebombing.
Brad: Whatever. Management wants you gone by the end of the day.
LB: Just what sort of severance package is management prepared to offer me, considering the information I have about our editorial director buying pussy with company money? Which I think would interest the I.R.S. since it technically constitutes fraud. And I’m sure that some for our advertisers and rival publications might like to know about it as well, not to mencion… Craig’s wife.
Brad: What do you want?
LB: One year’s salary with benefits.
Brad: That’s not going to happen.
LB: Well, what do you say I throw in a little sexual harassment charge to boot?
Brad (laughing): Against who?
LB: Against you. Can you prove that you didn’t offer to save my job if I let you blow me?
Brad: Man… You are one twisted fuck.
LB: Nope. I’m just an ordinary guy with nothing to lose.
Brad: Well, you obviously have no interest in saving yourself.
LB: Brad, for 14 years, I’ve been a whore for the advertising industry. The only way I could save myself now is if I start firebombing.
Brad: Whatever. Management wants you gone by the end of the day.
LB: Just what sort of severance package is management prepared to offer me, considering the information I have about our editorial director buying pussy with company money? Which I think would interest the I.R.S. since it technically constitutes fraud. And I’m sure that some for our advertisers and rival publications might like to know about it as well, not to mencion… Craig’s wife.
Brad: What do you want?
LB: One year’s salary with benefits.
Brad: That’s not going to happen.
LB: Well, what do you say I throw in a little sexual harassment charge to boot?
Brad (laughing): Against who?
LB: Against you. Can you prove that you didn’t offer to save my job if I let you blow me?
Brad: Man… You are one twisted fuck.
LB: Nope. I’m just an ordinary guy with nothing to lose.
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