You talkin to me? You talkin’ to me You talkin’ to me? Well then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to? Oh yea? Huh? Okay. Huh?
Taxi Driver Monologues
April 10, 1972. Thank God for the rain which has helped wash the garbage and trash off the sidewalks. I’m working a single now, which means stretch-shifts, six to six, sometimes six to eight in the a.m., six days a week. It’s a hustle, but it keeps me busy. I can take in three to three-fifty a week, more with skims. I work the whole city, up, down, don’t make no difference to me – does to some. Some won’t take spooks – Hell, don’t make no difference to me. They’re all animals anyway. All the animals come out at night: Whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.
[looking in the mirror] Yeah. Huh? Huh? Huh? [draws] faster than you, you f*ckin’ son of a…I saw you comin’, you f*ck. Sh*t-heel. [reholsters] I’m standin’ here. You make the move. You make the move. It’s your move. [draws gun from concealed forearm holster] Huh? Don’t try it, you f*ck. [reholsters] You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? [turns around to look behind him]Well, then who the hell else are you talking- You talking to me? Well, I’m the only one here. Who the f*ck do you think you’re talking to? Oh yeah? Huh? ‘kay.
[whips out his gun again] Huh? [Travis voiceover: Listen you f*ckers, you screwheads. Here’s a man who would not take it anymore. Who would not let- Listen you f*ckers, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the c*nts, the dogs, the filth, the sh*t. Here is someone who stood up. Here is…] [draws his gun] You’re dead.