Jolene

I left the museum at six in the evening because I had a hankering for some hot food. This meant, in Champs Les Sims, going to the Catania Cafe, currently owned by one Jolene Montaque -- Gustave's female roommate.

To say she and I don't care for one another is a huge understatement. Actually, I could tell from the moment I saw her that I didn't like her at all, and I knew that she didn't like me. And I immediately knew why.
As far as I knew she and Gustave weren't romantically involved, but it didn't matter to her, and I knew it. She saw me as competition from the get-go.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me at first.
"What do you mean, what am I doing here? I'm free to travel wherever I want. The last time I checked, you only owned this cafe, not this whole town."
"Did you sleep with Gustave last night?"
I shook my head. "Where did you get THAT idea?"
"I -- I heard people talking."
"Well, you can stop listening to whoever you're hearing right here, right now. I NEVER slept with Gustave. I'm not that kind of woman. Now, did I sleep at the house? Yes, I did. I'm not going to deny it."

"You must understand something, mademoiselle."
"Don't talk to me like I'm a petite fille, I'm not."
"This happened in my house, while I was not at home, without my permission."
"The last time I checked, Gustave was a grown man. He can do as he pleases, with whomever he pleases."
"Not in my house!"

"You know what, Jolene, I cannot believe you are standing here making these kinds of insinuations about me. You don't know a damn thing about me!"
"You're Simerican. I know enough about you to determine that you're a piece of trash. You know that your ancestors were probably the scum of our continent, so we shipped them over there in the jungle."

"And look where we are today -- the richest, most powerful country in the entire world. You know what they say about one man's trash, right?"