There is a stack of mail that I have been avoiding.
JJustina
Why?
Gretchen
They always want money, or you have jury duty, or your grandma sent you a check for your birthday, and then you feel guilty that you never call her, and then you can't get out of bed for a month. Anyway... mail. Does that count for your stupid-ass...? Ugh, sorry.
JJustina
It's all right, I'm a professional. You can say anything you want in here.
Gretchen
Hmm. Anything? Really? Does opening the mail count for your one little asshole thing, you goddamn cock? You suck-balls dumb dick?
Jimmy God, no, woman! There's too much to do, now that the starting gun on the Grand Prix has sounded, the instant that I take my foot off the proverbial gas to celebrate, shall materialize five other writers in my side mirror just ready to pass me on the Autobahn that is the publishing industry... to clumsily mix European race car metaphors. As a veteran writer girlfriend now, you know that the work is never-ending.
Gretchen
But you spent the last few months drinking and jerking it to the Lane Bryant shoe catalog.
Oh. It totally made us not freak out as much. Except later, I drank my mom's mai tai and climbed on the table 'cause I forgot it was a grill. That's why I don't have footprints.
[seeing Jimmy burying his face in his hand] Let all the sadness out. [Jimmy turns around with a big smile on his face] Whoa! I thought you were crying!
No. It's amazing. I was smelling the jacket that Dad left and it smelled exactly like him. Just cigarettes, ale, beans, occupational failure. And in a rush, that feeling that we'd been searching for all day just came flying out. And, Gretchen, it wasn't sadness. It was happiness. I'm free. I am finally free! And I'm finally unstuck creatively. I found, all right, the perfect metaphor for the heft of Kitty's adolescent bottom. I'll tell you later. It's...it's too sexy.
Gretchen
Do you want to go binge-watch that six-part series on the Susan Smith case?
Yeah. Just a sec. Now that my parental nightmare is finally over, I'm gonna get rid of everything that smacks of Ronny Overly. May he rest in relative peace for someone of his arterial calcification.
No. We're not doing your stupid scavenger hunt for some dumb bar. You pitch it every Sunday.
Gretchen
It is not just a bar. It is a secret bar with a hidden entrance. A magical land full of beautiful people, and strong beverages, and retro decor, called a speakeasy.
Well, accept it, 'cause I'm not going on a scavenger hunt to find a speakeasy. Easily the worst development in bar culture since Internet jukeboxes and big ice cubes.
These pot activists leech off of people with legitimate problems in order to further their agenda, which is just getting high! Why did you make me do this?!
Hey! If I quit every time my mother pushed me to do something hard, I wouldn't have... I-I... Okay, well, I guess I did quit eventually to start doing drugs and having unprotected sex with college boys. But the point...
[entering] Look what I made! I went to Kinko's. Talked to some undergrads making a 'zine. It's a lovely place. Anyway, turns out I've been living my entire life in opposition to my father. And now that he's dead, I have no idea who I really am. Am I even a writer? Who knows? Maybe I'm meant to be a master carpenter/tree-house architect/singer-songwriter. Anyways, although my zoo animals are likely dead or escaped, I'd like to thank you for taking that router and forcing me to explore the world. Okay. I'm gonna go into the backyard and test some branches for load-bearing capacity.
Anyway, I-I don't want you to cream your jeans or anything 'cause I know they're your only pair, but maybe my mom wasn't so great.
JJustina
Seriously? What, did you hack my e-mail?
Gretchen
I mean, the pressure made me rad, but have you ever slept with no sheets? So scratchy. [Looks at Justina's patient] Five out of ten. Would bang.
JJustina
Yup, that's her.
Gretchen
Actually, that was the first time I fell into a depression. It was after a tennis match and I had won, but not by enough, 'cause it was never enough. And my mom was doing this... this food-withholding thing. I think she saw something about it on a TV show as a way to control your dog or something.
I am allowed to reassess my life. You have no say in it.
Gretchen
So I'm just supposed to wait around until you think I'm worthy of being your girlfriend? That's bullshit, dude. Just tell me one of the things on your list.
Last night, you said that I would never be successful. Well, I stayed up all night and wrote 35 amazing pages just to spite you. So, ha! Consider yourself thoroughly spited. Ha!
Gretchen
Cool. Okay, I take back the thing I said. You will be successful.
No, Jimmy! It's your turn to take back the mega-harsh thing you said to me. And then, voila, everything goes back to Normal Town, et cetera, et cetera... a little makeup boneage. Maybe some titty massages for Jimmy.
You have dropped eight iPhones in the last year, one into a vat of ranch at Souplantation. Child-rearing requires skill. It's not the same as binge-watching a season of Exemplify.
Gretchen
Oh, my God, that is so sexist and mansplainy! You a Gamergater? Am I living with a Gamergater?
Sometimes I look at you and I think, "How did this person get in my house?" It's like I've lost the thread of a novel, and all of a sudden, there's this messy short woman who's clearly important to the story. So, I'm flipping back, thinking, "I don't remember that character being introduced."
Gretchen
Tell me about it! Some days it's like I un-blacked out from a week-long bender, and now I'm in this weird-ass house with sharp corners.
My mate was supposed to be so different. Classy, unbruised, a first-chair violinist for the Philharmonic. God, can you imagine it? Me in the wings of Disney Hall. And we wave good-bye to the other musicians, and I joke about what a drag it must be for Igor to haul that double bass home. And then Dudamel does a champagne spit-take and shakes his head at me like, "Oh, Jimmy, you are too much."
Gretchen
How am I not arm candy for some international movie star with a giant dong? He's part owner of a cool tech company and invents apps when he's not dick-punching Peter Sarsgaard in his latest movie. Sometimes we talk about adopting a kid from a third-world country, but we never do it. And we live in a legit-ass castle in Malibu with one of those big modern art pieces by the guy who does the big dots.
No. This is not supposed to... One person is supposed to be in the hospital bed. And then the other uncomfortably sleeping on that little couch, just sneaking home to shower and... and walk the dog.
You're the Worst · 56 quotes
Gretchen
