"so... you're on your way to a ball game." "yep. it's a little treat for jake's birthday." "that was months ago." "we were waiting for bobble head day." "it's good for jake to see other bobble heads." "hey, dad, i just checked online." "dodgers are in san francisco today." "yes, well... we'd beer get going, then." "it's quite a drive." "must you continue with this pathetic little charade?" "at this point, we're kind of committed." "all right, all right, we're not going to a ball game." "we're not?" "man, this is the worst birthday ever." "why do you have to lie to me?" "we don't have to." "it's a choice we make." "well, you both might find this all amusing, but i do have feelings and i can be hurt." "sorry, mom." "it's just crushing to know that my own sons think so little of me." "really?" "after all this time?" "charlie." "we're both sorry." "is there anything we can do to make it up to you?" "well, as a matter of fact, there is." "you just walked right into that." "teddy is out of town and i need an escort for the civic light opera benefit this evening." "why don't you try one of those escort services?" "charlie, if i were going to pay $200 an hour for a man, i would not be taking him to the opera." "that's fair." "well, i'd love to help you out, mom, but i have a date tonight." "oh." "so now it's inflatable sex doll night at dodger stadium." "no. no, i really have a date." "and the doll was a gag gift from one of my patients." "charlie, what about you?" "i tried it once, but i prefer a real woman." "do you have plans this evening?" "oh, i... well... woman: hey, steve. in here." "as a matter of fact, i do have plans." "i have a very special lady friend over for the weekend." "and here she is now." "hey, baby." "hi." "excuse me." "isn't she something?" "okay, but get a town car, 'cause i ain't going sober." "your town car's here." "terrific." "come on." "now i have beeto a lot of these things with mom, and i know you think it's going to be bad, but believe me, it's going to be worse than you can even imagine." "you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" "you just love seeing me unhappy." "well... yeah." "i mean, did you feel sorry for me when i had to wear that cowboy outfit to her celebrity aids hoedown?" "that was different." "how?" "it was you." "yeah, well, now it's you." "yippee-ky-yay, mother-accompanier." "want a few tips?" "like what?" "well, let's see, mom likes to starve herself for a few days before these events so she can fit into her gown." "that means she'll be knocking back vodka gimlets on a completely empty stomach." "aw, geez." "she can be a cranky drunk." "cranky?" "i got bitch-slapped with my own ten-gallon hat." "so what's the tip?" "don't wear a ten-gallon hat?" "all you have to do is bring along a little baggie of crackers." "you know, saltines, goldfish, anything you can stuff down her throat to soak up the booze." "how about a throw pillow?" "oh, and whatever you do, don't let her take off her shoes." "why not?" "well, a) you'll be carrying them all night, and b) you'll wind up giving her a foot massage in the lobby, and that's not something anybody wants to see." "oh, god." "not to mention the fact that it puts you on bunion patrol." "anyway, have fun." "i'm off to pick up a beautiful, smart, funny, sexually available woman who, best of all, is not my mother." "give it time." "you'll get her there." "in consideration of the evening you have ahead of you, i'm gonna let you have that one." "yeah, these are the good times." "another gimlet please." "you sure you don't want a wheat thin?" "mmm, wheaty." "no. i need the liquor to dull the pain." "my shoes are killing me." "yeah, but they look wonderful on your feet, right where they are now." "oh, look who's over there." "who?" "one of the most powerful union leaders in hollywood." "what about him?" "really?" "the mob?" "yeah, they say he killed a writer once just to make a point." "what was the point?" ""i can kill a writer. "" "and the silver-haired man he's talking to?" "yeah?" "that is the king of vaginal rejuvenation surgery, but interestingly, he's never used one himself, rejuvenated or otherwise." "wouldn't that make him the queen of vaginal surgery?" "good for you, charlie." "i wish i'd thought of that, and from now on i did." "it's yours." "so, what other dirt you got?" "oh, darling, you know i don't like to speak ill of anyone." "all right." "bankrupt, embezzler, tushie tuck, bigamist, pill freak and that one over there underwent surgery to have a cell phone removed from his lower intestine." "ouch." "how in the world did it get there?" "one can speculate, but i have it on good authority that it was set to vibrate." "how do you know all these things?" "oh, charlie, it's my business to know these things." "high end real estate is all about gathering information and forging relationships." "hello, beatrice darling." "lovely to see you." "you two-dollar whore." "you know, mom, it's great to watch you doing autopsies when i'm not the cadaver." "half the fun is sharing with someone you love." "oh, you see the statuesque woman over there the one with the knockoff prada handbag?" "don't tell me- she's not a woman." "oh, she's a woman." "she's an amazing woman." "she built a children's hospital in guatemala." "yeah, and...?" "once they're healthy enough to walk, she flies them to los angeles and leases them out to celebrities as household slaves." "hello, dear." "i'm trying to sell her home." "it's hard to put a good spin on "media room slash dungeon. "" "i'm sorry, alan, i can't do this." "sure you can." "i mean, you are, and if you'll allow me to say so, you're pretty good at it." "it's not you, it's me." "yeah, right." "what is that supposed to mean?" "sharon, i have been rejected by... 32 different women in my life." "and you know what, it's never been me." "okay, it's you. feel better?" "actually no." "you're a very nice guy." "no, that's even worse you know what they say about nice guys." "yes, they finish last." "no, the finish in the shower." "what do you want me to say?" "i can't help it if i'm not sexually attracted to you." "yes, you can." "you just have to make an effort." "you know those jokes you don't get right away?" "and then in a day or two you find yourself laughing and laughing?" "that's me." "i'm one of those jokes." "you'll sleep with me now, and you'll be attracted to me later." "please, sharon, just, just give me a chance." "aw, what the hell." "good to see you, dear." "you look marvelous." "for a heroin addict." "let me ask you something." "mm." "if you don't like any of these people, why do you come to these things?" "charlie, do you read the paper?" "do you have any idea what the los angeles real estate market is like now?" "can't say i do." "hey, how are those feet feeling?" "you want to put your shoes back on?" "no one is selling unless they have to." "which means i have to be out working these rooms every night to learn who's getting divorced, who's dying, who can't make bail, who's crappy sitcom got cancelled." "let's face it, i'm not a young woman anymore." "i mean, in the old days i could find out all that stuff at home on my back." "evelyn." "margaret." "good to see you." "how's married life?" "oh, just one long honeymoon." "that's because she bangs a different groom every night." "hi, charlie harper." "oh, my god!" "that was amazing." "wasn't that amazing?" "i hate myself." "what?" "no, no, you were great." "you did a crackerjack job." "why do i do this?" "why do i have this constant need to degrade myself?" "would it help to cuddle?" "don't touch me." "okay, no touching." "the image of you lying on top of me will haunt me forever." "did you want to be on top?" "'cause if you give me a half an hour and a glass of juice, we could try that." "hey, hey, dr. phillips, it's me, sharon." "i did it again!" "i don't know why!" "i felt sorry for him." "hey, hey, why don't i whip us up some french toast?" "shut... up." "okay, i'm just gonna get a nice glass of cran-apple just in case." "how bad was it?" "how bad was it?" "i'm in a fold-out bed!" "" 0 'morning." "'morning." "hey, berta, you're a woman." "where we going with this, zippy?" "i was just wondering, what does it mean when someone starts crying uncontrollably after sex?" "well, in my experience, it usually means the conjugal visit's over." "right, thanks." "what happened, did you get yourself a weeper?" "yeah. yeah, last night." "i've never seen anything like it before." "that's hard to believe." "i got it hello." "oh, hey, mom, how are you?" "yeah, that was fun last night." "no, i'm not doing anything. why?" "sure, i'd love to go shopping with you." "great. i'll see you, then." "what?" "nothing." "nothing." "hey, hey, mom's not that bad." "in fact, she's kind of fun to hang out with." "that has to be the creepiest thing i've ever heard." "you know, i said the same thing to myself just a couple minutes ago." "* men." "are you sure you can't stay for dinner?" "oh, i'd love to, sweetie, but teddy's back in town, and mommy plans to get laid tonight." "good for you." "please, give him my best." "only after i give him my best." "hello?" "oh, hi, alan." "don't forget your little giftie." "you bought him a giftie?" "just my way of saying thank you for taking me to lunch." "you took her to lunch?" "i must have gained five pounds." "oh, stop!" "you have a terrific figure." "thank you." "are you high?" "it never hurts to pay a compliment to someone you care about." "yeah, you should try it once in a while." "it might cut down on that post-coital weeping." "how'd you know about that?" "berta told me, i told mom." "your brother and i don't have any secrets." "maybe i'm high." "okay, well, i must be off." "places to go, houses to sell, new widows to cold-call." "oh, oh, that reminds me." "uh, uh, charlie, some woman named margaret called, looking for you." "margaret?" "oh, yeah, honeymoon margaret from last night." "charlie, the woman's husband is one of my biggest clients." "oh, mom!" "please, i'm not asking as your mother." "i'm asking as your friend." "all right, as a friend, hands off." "thank you, darling." "i love you." "see ya, alan." "i guess i'll just throw this away." "da-da-da-da-da-da!" "what?" "you're not gonna call her, are you?" "well, it's a bit of a dilemma." "on the one hand, there's this beautiful available woman... she's married." "but according to mom, not a fanatic about." "so, am i the kind of guy who would go back on his word to his own mother just for a really hot one-night stand?" "is that a rhetorical question?" "tell you what." "we'll leave it to chance." "if i miss, i'll take the high road." "if it goes in, i'll call margaret." "i guess it's fate." "* men." "are you ready for me?" "oh, bravo." "mm... just to be clear, this is a tit-for-tat kind of deal, right?" "your husband cheated on you, the rotten bastard, and now you're cheating on him?" "no, he never cheated on me." "oh, so, what, he's mean to you, he's abusive?" ", he's a doll." "is he gay?" "not at all." "was he in some sort of bizarre sort of hunting accident?" "what?" "you know, fell crotch first into an open bear trap?" "no, he's all man." "so then why are you doing this?" "well, it's very simple." "i like having sex with strangers." "oh. well, good for you." "is your husband hiding somewhere watching us?" "no, he's in dallas on business." "charlie, are we gonna do this or what?" "actually, i..." "i don't think i can." "why not?" "well, i kind of promised my mother i wouldn't." "your mother?" "who's also my friend." "so what do you want to do?" "i tell you what." "we'll leave it to chance." "if i nail this, then, you know, ditto." "man:" "margaret!" "oh, god!" "who's that?" "who do you think?" "another stranger?" "it's my husband. get out!" "right." "where the hell should i go?" "out the window." "are you crazy?" "i'm not going out the window." "he's an ex-marine." "i'm going out the window." "oh, damn!" "hi." "sharon, um, what's up?" "i was hoping we could talk." "oh... sure." "may i come in?" "okay." "thanks." "i'm kind of surprised to see you." "i know." "i behaved really badly the other night." "you were a little emotional." "i wasn't a little emotional." "i was borderline psychotic." "oh. since you brought it up, i'd say you crossed that border with ten more crazy people in your trun i know. i'm so sorry." "i get like that sometimes." "it's a combination of low self-esteem." "low blood sugar and mixing red wine with my dog's painkillers." "uh-huh." "uh, i once took my cold medication with a mimosa." "spaced me out the whole day." "so you forgive me?" "oh, absolutely." "oh, thank you, alan." "don't mention it." "mm, what are we doing?" "i'd like to make it up to you." "do you really think that's a good idea?" "i mean, last time it didn't work out so well." "please, alan, just give me another chance." "oh, what the hell." "margaret i thought you were in dallas." "i was. i got a phone call telling me to come home and check on my wife." "from who?" "that's not important." "this marriage is over." "i want you out of my house." "well, i'm not leaving." "well, you have to because i'm selling it." "in this market?" "are you crazy?" "i've got a great realr, and she assures me i can get top dollar." "you've already talked to a realtor?" "who do you think called me in dallas?" "and she's not just my realtor." "she's my friend." "oh, man!" "* men." "sharon:" "i hate you!" "you're a pig and you use me!" "she's cute." "yes, she is." "so, how's it going?" "well, we're trying to make it work." "good for you." "so how's your night?" "you'd be proud of me." "i took the high road." "congratulations." "didn't matter." "it rarely does." "you're telling me that mom knew you were going to sleep with that woman, and called the husband so that he'd catch her in the act?" "yep. the marriage ends and mom gets a big commission for selling their house." "wow." "she's an evil genius, alan." "if she lived in gotham city, batman would be toast." "hey, isn't that your new girlfriend?" "where?" "over there." "walking into the ocean with all her clothes on." "oh, yeah." "she gets a little suicidal after we have sex." "yeah, yeah, ha-ha." "well, i'd better go pull her in." "ask if she's got a friend."