Original subtitles

Carter's the can -do market.

Delicious fresh -baked goods.

Can -do! More.

More? More. Still rolling. Go again.

Can -do!

I'm not buying it.

Can -do!

I'm still not buying it!

Carter's, the can -do market.

Tasty deli treats.

Can -do!

Ocean fresh seafood.

Can -do!

Garden fresh produce.

Of course, my first love is the theater.

You are the can -do girl.

No, I'm not. Yes, you are.

I've seen that commercial a hundred times.

Can -do.

Right, all right, not so loud.

Everybody's got to do something to pay their rent.

No, really, I think it's very charming.

Actually, it made me switch to that supermarket.

Really?

No, I'm just flirting with you.

Can I buy you a cup of coffee?

How do I know you're not some psycho?

sleeps with a tinfoil hat to keep the CIA from controlling his dreams.

Why, is that a turn -off?

Yeah,

I met him while I was walking Shamu here.

Jeff's on location.

I'll tell you the rest at lunch, Marianne.

No, I'm not going to tell you anymore. I'm not.

He's a psychiatrist.

Grayish hair, blue eyes, big... feet.

See you at lunch.

Zoe, I didn't say you couldn't say it. I said I'd prefer if you wouldn't say it.

You're home early.

Monster cramps.

Zoe, please.

I have cramps because I have a monthly cycle because I'm a woman, Dad.

Well, you'll always be my little girl. Well, your little girl's uterus is

fluffing off superfluous tissue.

Deal with it.

Feel better, baby.

Maybe I should get her some soup.

Oh, yeah, that'll do it.

Here, look.

Page two, bottom left. Read it out loud.

Daily Book Critics Association awarded this year's prize for full -length

fiction to Ira Woodbine for his novel, Lowenstein's Lament.

Oh, Ira, congratulations.

Thanks. You should be so proud of yourself.

I guess.

What do you mean you can't?

Well, my publisher expects me to write another book. They gave me a big

Oh, no. I'm so sorry.

It's not a joke. What if I get blocked?

What if I wind up wandering around for months in my bathroom without writing a

word? Before you know it, I'll turn to drinking, end up penniless on the floor

of some bus station restroom, choking on my own vomit.

Ira, you just won a major award. Can't you just enjoy it for five minutes and

then choke on your vomit?

Yeah, I suppose you're right. Hey.

Why don't we get a bottle of champagne and celebrate?

Right now?

Why not?

I'm sorry. I'm meeting Marianne for lunch. Okay. What about tonight?

Tonight?

I can't.

I've got plans.

Date plans?

I didn't ask you that. It's none of my business.

Don't worry. I can celebrate alone.

Ira, don't do that.

Do what?

Don't worry.

I can celebrate alone.

You're right. I'm sorry.

You just did it again.

Okay, okay.

I just...

Used to sharing this stuff with you.

Never mind.

I guess I should go.

Ira, I really am proud of you.

Thank you.

Tell Zoe I hope she feels better.

I will.

You don't think she faked that female stuff to get out of the father -daughter

putt -putt tournament?

No, don't be silly. What 16 -year -old girl doesn't love miniature golf with

Dad? Yeah, you're right.

Bye.

Okay, Zoe.

How's the salmon?

Perfect. No, no, leave that one. We're still expecting a third. Whew.

It's a surprise.

Another gimlet?

Can do.

You're never going to live that down.

You said the same thing when you did that musical version of Gandhi.

People forget.

Hi, sorry I'm late. Oh, hello, Sharon. Sharon, this is my friend Sybil. Hi.

Hey.

Can you... Yeah, yeah, sit down.

Can I get you anything?

Just coffee. I'm on call.

Sharon's a very successful surgeon.

Oh. Stop it, Marianne. You sound like my mother.

Oh, I'm sure she's very proud.

Have you told her about your new boyfriend?

He's a surgeon, too.

No, he's a plastic surgeon.

I save lives.

Richard sucks the fat out of rich people's asses.

They both work at St. Luke's. Isn't that romantic?

Oh, speaking of which, it's probably the hospital.

Excuse me.

Her boyfriend is a plastic surgeon at St. Luke's and his name is Richard?

Uh -huh.

Your ex -husband is a plastic surgeon at St. Luke's and his name is Richard?

Uh -huh.

You have made friends with this woman and she has no idea who you are.

Aren't you proud of me?

Marianne, this is insane.

This is sick. No, it's brilliant. She tells me everything.

Where he goes, what he does. Makes it so much easier to stalk him.

That was Richard?

I'm taking him out for his birthday tonight and I haven't even bought him

anything yet.

You know what's a fun gift?

One of those big oversized wool cardigans.

That's a great idea.

Unless he's allergic to wool.

Why would you think that?

Well, I've known people whose throats closed up and nearly suffocated when

wear wool.

Maybe I should ask him. No, that would spoil the surprise.

So tell us more about this Richard.

Was it serious?

Well, I wish it were, but he can't finalize the divorce until his wife is

released from the mental institution.

A mental institution?

Apparently the woman is nuts, Marianne.

You

know, a

lot of people say that psychiatrists are really screwed up, but you appear quite

normal. People speak highly of actresses, too.

No, what I meant is, it's so unusual to find a man that's my age, employed,

single, heterosexual, not living in his mother's basement.

Stop me when I'm wrong.

No, that's all true.

I do have a little dark secret, though, I guess you could know about.

What?

I'm Spider -Man.

Kidding. Just kidding.

Don't do that.

How about tomorrow, instead of going to a restaurant, you come to my place, I'll

make you dinner.

Oh, you cook, too?

I am so impressed.

I can do all sorts of things.

Oh,

Daddy, look at Mommy.

Oh, jeez, I'm sorry.

Mark?

Ira? You two know each other?

Mark's my shrink.

You're a shrink?

Dear diary.

I cannot believe my ex -wife is dating my psychiatrist.

Hold on, hold on. Let's discuss this calmly and rationally.

Zoe, go to your room. What's the point? I'm already emotionally scarred.

Just go.

Ira, first of all...

I had no idea that Sybil was your ex -wife. And secondly, I'm no longer your

psychiatrist because you stopped going to therapy over a year ago. That's

because you said I was better.

You said he was better?

Ha! Good one, Mom!

Good one!

Very awkward. I think I should leave you two to talk.

Sybil, thank you very much for a lovely dinner.

I'll call you.

Good night, Mark. I'm sorry about all this. Don't be.

Ira?

Saw you on TV.

Can do. Very nice.

Come on, let's hear it. Hear what? That what you're doing is wrong? Heinous? A

crime against nature? Please.

Sybil, you were my wife. He was my shrink between the two of you. You know

enough to destroy me.

Yeah, that was the plan. Go to dinner, have a little wine, and then we're gonna

getcha.

Okay, how about this?

I forbid you to see him.

Forbid? All right, all right. Forbid's a little strong. Beg. I beg you.

gonna tell me who to date.

If I decide to have a relationship with Mark, it has nothing to do with my

relationship with you. But I had a relationship with him first.

Top, you broke up with him.

Fine, have it your way. Date whoever you want. Date everybody I ever confided

in. My accountant, my proctologist, my rabbi. Better yet, take a knife and just

punch it in my heart.

If I do that, can I still date the rabbi?

The eyes of Mary.

Hello? Marianne, where are you?

I'm on my way to 7 -Eleven to get some gum.

At midnight?

They're having a sale.

What's up?

Are you sitting down?

Hold on.

Okay.

The psychiatrist I'm dating, he has iris shrink.

You're kidding.

No, isn't it awful? That's great.

You can find out all of Iris' deep, dark secrets.

That's you. You're the one who's obsessed with your ex -husband.

Oh, I resent that.

Wait.

What?

Nothing there out of juicy fruit.

Anyway, I don't care about Ira's deep, dark secrets. What I'm worried about is

what he's told Mark about me.

Oh, my God.

That's not Sharon.

stalking my husband, what do you think?

And he's kissing another woman.

Sharon? No, it's somebody else. He's cheating on Sharon. He's cheating on my

friend. Marianne, she is not your friend.

Oh, that's nice. Abandon her in her hour of need. I hope if I ever sleep with

one of your ex -husbands, you'll be a bit more loyal.

Marianne, start the car and drive away.

I can't talk now, Sybil.

I'm going in for a closer look.

You know any show tunes about dead plastic surgeons?

Hi, Marianne. What are you doing here so late?

I'm meeting a friend.

And here he is now.

Hello, pal.

I'll have another light beer.

Oh, somebody had a bad day. I just walked into my ex -wife kissing my ex

-shrink. I know.

Of course you know. How long did it take her to call you?

I could hear you getting in your car.

I don't want her going out with him, Marianne.

He's a great guy. He's a professional. He's successful.

He's sensitive.

He's me.

Only better.

Maybe you don't understand your role in this conversation.

I'm sorry.

Poor Ira.

There, there.

Did she say when she was going out with him again?

Why? Are you going to park in front of his house and spy on them? Oh, Ira,

that's really sick.

Yeah, you're right.

Ira, trust me on this.

If you don't let go of Sybil, you'll wind up hating her.

You've got to move on.

Was it hard letting go of Richard?

Well, it took two deputy sheriffs and a stun gun, but eventually I let go.

Excuse me, my friend just arrived. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here for

you. Thanks, Marianne. Anytime, Ira.

What was so important you couldn't tell me over the phone?

The phones aren't safe.

They're not? Too easy to tap.

I'll teach you someday.

It's about that fellow Richard you've been seeing.

What about him? Well, a friend of mine who knows the woman he used to be

to was passing by his house and saw him with another woman.

Another woman?

5 '8", 5 '9", blonde hair, green eyes, thick ankle.

At least that's what my friend told me.

That bastard.

Sorry, don't interrupt.

I just wanted to say goodnight and thanks again for the advice.

Maybe I can get over Sybil.

You good over Richard?

Richard? Her ex -husband.

The jockey? No, the plastic surgeon.

Good night.

Oh, yeah. I, um... Left out apart.

Well, dinner should be ready in about 20 minutes.

Great. You hungry?

Yeah.

What?

Oh, nothing. It's just so funny.

What is? Oh, you know, everything.

I meet you totally by accident, and you turn out to be my ex -husband's ex

-shrink.

God knows what he's told you about me.

It's almost like I'm standing here naked, only I'm not cold. I'm not naked.

have my clothes on. Please, God, shut me up.

Is this going to be a problem? Of course not. Don't be silly. Poor.

Oh, okay.

This is supposed to be a very good Zinfandel.

How'd you know I like Zinfandel?

Oh, you ordered it the other night at dinner?

Oh, of course. You're very observant.

Cheers. Cheers.

Sybil, I want to clear something up.

See, I charge $125 an hour.

Now, at those prices, my clients don't usually discuss their ex -wife's

preferences.

Unless drinking was a problem.

Did I ever tell you I have a drinking problem?

You know I can't discuss with my client today.

Of course you can. I'm sorry.

There was that month or two at the Kahlua, but it was towards the end of

marriage and I was having trouble sleeping.

Maybe this is a bad idea. No, no, I'm fine. I'm having fun.

Let's just change the subject. Okay. Tell me about your day.

Well, I went shopping for a new car. Really?

What are you looking for? Something in a four -wheel drive.

I test drove a Jeep Cherokee.

Are you trying to be funny?

I don't understand. Oh, come on. Ira must have told you the Cherokee story.

What Cherokee? You know, if we had owned the car, even if we had rented the car,

I wouldn't have hesitated to make love in it. But a car you're test driving,

sorry. To me, that is wrong.

That's like making love in a department store display bed.

He told you I lost my sense of adventure, right?

Right? Well, I happen to be very creative sexually, but the one time, the

time I don't want to do something that's all he remembers.

He doesn't remember the beach in Mexico or the changing room in Nordstrom or the

time I picked him up at the airport with nothing on but a fur coat.

Nothing at all?

You see?

He didn't even tell you that. All he did was whine about the demise of our

sex... Like, not that it had anything to do with a lack of communication or his

constant condescending attitude, or the fact that he wore plaid boxers to bed

every single night of our entire marriage, every single night. God, I

plaid. I can't stand to look at it. I'll kill myself if you send me to Scotland.

I would.

It seems to me that you may have some residual feelings towards your ex

-husband. For Ira?

Well, if you'd like, I could refer you to someone.

A shrink? You're telling me I need a shrink?

What do you think?

I think I don't want to sit here and be analyzed and told I need professional

help when I'm supposed to be out on a date. Have you ever thought about that?

No. Well, maybe you should, Mr.

Hickman Zinfandel.

In the meantime, excuse me if I don't want to get on your couch.

And one more thing.

What?

You could be right.

No, he said. This isn't right.

The car doesn't belong to us.

Hold on.

Who is it?

It's your ex -wife.

This can't be good.

Cannot be good.

Still want to celebrate your book award?

Now?

Well, yeah, unless you're in the middle of someone. Something.

No, no, I'm just writing. Come on in.

So, uh, why aren't you out with Mark?

I was.

I want you to know, I was out of line the other night. If you want to date

you should go right ahead.

Did he, uh, talk about me?

Yeah. He did? What a blabbermouth. Really? He even told me about the, you

Oh, God, Thibault, that was a long time ago, and I was mad at you.

What are you talking about?

Nothing.

What are you talking about?

Ira, I was teething.

I knew that.

It came by because we never had a chance to really celebrate your success.

Oh. Well, that's great.

You know, you were a big part of that success, Dibble.

Yeah, right.

We fought the entire time you were writing that book. Which is why I locked

myself in a den for two years and wrote about a lonely, tormented man trapped in

a destructive marriage.

You told me it was about your parents.

You bought that?

Bite me, Ira.

I'd like to propose a toast to the best novel of the year, Lowenstein's Lament.

Congratulations, Woodbine. I'm damn proud of you.

Thanks.

Mark didn't talk about me at all?

Well, actually, he does have an odd sort of theory about us. What does he know?

The guy's a quack.

He thinks I still have unresolved feelings for you. And yet at times I

to be amazingly perceptive.

So.

Do you?

Maybe.

Do you?

You know I do.

But I've been giving it a lot of thought.

We both know we can't live together without tearing each other apart.

So, maybe we should work on just being friends.

Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.

Friends.

Friends.

Of course.

There's no law against friends being really friendly.

Once more, for old time's sake.

Hmm.

You think?

What could it hurt? We're already divorced.

Good night, Ira.

What?

What did I do?

You see the second floor window?

The one that's open?

You think you can get it in there?

Easy.

Water -based or oil?

Oil. What am I, an amateur?

You see why I like her?

I can't believe I'm doing this. Someday I'll write songs about it.

Oh, Sharon!