Homem Que Copiava, O

No, no. In a shop.
Very cool. Start, stop, the paper
with the light, the drawer...

button in the center, how many
copies, and go ahead, baby.

How many brain cells
do you need to do this?

It sucks.
It's for the money.
I work with illustrations.

I've sent some material
to a magazine.

"Material". I don't think
she bought that one.

Girls are smart.
When I'm not working,
I stay home drawing.

It's fun because it's useless,
except as a pick up line.

But it's never worked yet.
Girls are very smart.

Girls can tell a photocopier
operator in seconds.

No girl dreams of spending her
life with a photocopier operator.

Or traveling
with a photocopier operator...

having children
with a photocopier operator.

At least I have never met
a girl who dreamt of that.

She's not home yet.
She lives with her father.
I think it's her father, must be.

By the look of their furniture,
they can't have much money.

But her father works,
he has a uniform.

His shirt has those things
on the shoulders with buttons.

Maybe he's a cop.
Or a public health agent,
who kills mosquitoes.

Maybe he's a
public health agent.

She's arrived.
She goes straight to her room,
I think she eats out.

Sometimes she gets
something in the kitchen.

Only sometimes,
almost never.

She always arrives after 11
and goes to her room.

I think she goes to night classes,
she carries books with her.