Harvey Milk: Hey, I like the way your pants fit... Where are you from, kid?
Cleve Jones: [laughs] Sorry old man, not interested.
Harvey Milk: I'm Harvey Milk. I'm running for Supervisor. What's your name?
Cleve Jones: Cleve... Jones.
Harvey Milk: Well Mr. Jones, we should walk up to my camera shop and register you.
Cleve Jones: Fuck that. Elections of any kind are a fucking bourgeois affectation.
Harvey Milk: Is that right? So do you trick up on Polk Street?
Cleve Jones: If I need the cash... But I'm selective about my clients.
Harvey Milk: Tell me one thing before you get back to work then. What was it like to be a little queer in Phoenix? Did the jocks beat you up?
Cleve Jones: I faked a lung disease to get out of PE. So what? What are you, some kind of street shrink?
Harvey Milk: Sometimes.