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I am a genius.

Kiss my ass, world!

As spokesman for the world: No, thanks.

Oh, hey, Lionel.

Sorry if I'm a little overzealous. I just figured out life.

Keep that to your damn self! People are trying to sleep.

- What are you doing up so early? - I am going to work.

Ha-ha-ha-ha! Sucker!

Ow! Oh!

What the fuck?

Okay, so, I'm not a doctor,

and there's a chance I'm never gonna be one,

but my best guess is that this is a baby.

Congratulations, Mama!

It's not a baby.

I'm gonna throw you a shower. I found a place with a great patio.

I bet it's a pulled muscle.

Or... I heard about this thing

where a spider crawled into this dude's skin

and laid a bunch of eggs there, then died and then the eggs hatched,

and there were, like, a thousand dead spiders

all up in this guy's skin. Do you think it's that?

I'm gonna kill you for even suggesting it.

Oh, Sophia. Aw. I'm gonna love you no matter what.

Even if one day a thousand dead spiders trickle right out of your vag.

- Does it hurt? - No! Only when you poke it.

If you're not gonna listen, at least go to the free clinic and get it checked out.

No. No, I wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that.

Everything is free!

I've gotten, like, a thousand dental dams there.

I use them to wrap up leftovers.

- Here. - Figures.

Soon as I have an epiphany, it's coupled with a swig of a shit soda.

Okay, is that what this is? Your epiphany?

- Yeah. - Oh, my God, that jacket.

- Mm-hmm. - Oh!

My life was garbage before this moment.

Right? Oh...

And... check it out.

Ooh, Sophia, you're retrieving sexy like Jason Timberline.

Just say his name.

No. Not after what he did to Britney. No fucking way.

I bought this for nine bucks. Look how much it's going for.

Sophia, you sneaky bitch.

- Now, I can pay my rent. - Ooh!

Oh, not only that, but I can, like, live doing this forever.

I mean, all from the comforts of my small, shitty apartment.

- I never have to get another job again. - Nice.

So, Dax wants us to go rollerblading, but I don't wanna see him on rollerblades

and I don't think he wants to see me on them either.

I mean, what's the upside to this?

Annie, I'm in the middle of explaining to you how my life is changing.

Shit, you're right. Keep going.

But can you remind us to come back to the rollerblading thing?

He's gonna be in shorts, and you know how weird I am about men and their knees.

Okay, so, my next step is, I need to find more cool shit to sell

and I don't wanna wait for auction money.

So, I was up all night... scrounging for cash.

- How much you got? - $21.64.

- Not bad. - Right away I found a 20

in a pant pocket and took the rest of the night to find the $1.64.

So, if I can dig up a couple more overlooked pieces,

that's, like, $1,200 right there.

Boom! Dollar, dollar bills, y'all.

Sophia, you found something that you like doing,

and you are actually doing it.

Yep, I figured out life. There's nothing left to learn.

Except for whatever the fuck that is.

Hm.

Okay... moving on.

- Oh, excuse me. - Hm?

I know the price says 50, but would you take 20?

Price is the price.

$21.64?

Tag says 50, end of story.

I just spent the last two hours going through all your shitty old clothes.

What do you think vintage is? A nice way of saying "shitty old clothes."

Okay. Well, I'm never coming back here again.

Nothing?

You're killing me.

I would blow Dick Cheney for a top right now.

You're out of pitas? What, am I supposed to hold them?

Seen better clothes at a Rite Aid.

Just a reminder, there are no returns on bathing suit bottoms.

I mean, the tops are okay. Unless you're lactating.

And then you need to ask yourself, "Should my body be in a bikini?"

Hello, little street urchin.

What existential malaise is plaguing you today?

Your cheap stuff sucks and your good stuff is way too expensive.

Then don't buy anything, problem solved.

Problem not solved. I need to get stuff.

Ugh. "I need to get stuff."

See, right there is what ails this society.

It's that type of consumerist mentality.

- Dude, you run a store. - I like to think of us as one link

in a circular chain of sustainable clothing use.

- Word. - Thank you.

Okay, I need to get stuff

because I started reselling vintage clothes online.

- You? - Mm-hmm.

You...

You think you're responsible enough to run a business?

- Not a business. - Oh, no?

Yeah. I'm not looking to cheat people or screw taxpayers, buy elections.

Sure, you just want to exchange goods for money.

Wrong, I just wanna spend all day in my undertrunks on my bed

and still be able to eat and pay rent. It's a lifestyle, not a business.

Oh, I see. You think you can actually support yourself

with your online business.

Not a business, it was very clear.

Well, it takes a lot more than lucking into some bargains at thrift stores.

I flipped that jacket you sold me yesterday.

It's now going for over 600 bucks.

- You bratty little C-word. - You mean "cunt."

Maybe I know exactly what I'm doing.

Do you? How much time have you spent looking for more inventory to sell?

And how much have you found?

What do you know about overhead, online marketing, shipping,

customer complaints, returns?

Duh. Plenty.

Please. You may have found your acorn, my little blind squirrel,

but there is no way that someone like you can make a living at it.

Okay, go ahead, underestimate me.

That's just what I want.

I feed off that shit.

The truth is, I'm smarter than you think.

I have good instincts and common sense coming out my dumper.

I've got it all figured out.

Twenty-four ninety-nine?

- Ah. - Just a bookmark?

Yeah. Having a hell of a time keeping my place in books.

Can I have a bag?

For a bookmark?

Yeah, my husband wouldn't like it if he knew that I read.

Oh...

- Good luck to you. - Thanks.

Hey, miss.

Excuse me. Miss.

- I see that book. You're stealing it. - You don't know what you're talking about.

I saw you take that book. I'm almost certain you did not pay for it.

- Paid for it. Thank you for your service. - Let me see that receipt.

I'm so sick of being profiled all because I kind of look Indonesian.

You're the whitest girl on this block. Give me that.

They don't always put everything on there.

You need to come with me. Come on.

So, what do I get for running afoul of the asset protection associate?

Is public shaming enough?

No, no, no. We prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.

- Really? - Yes.

Fuck me in the dick.

Young women should not talk like that.

What age would be appropriate to say "fuck me in the dick"?

You'd have a better vocabulary if you read.

Yeah, what do you think this was for?

Get in there.

Let's go.

Okay, what's wrong?

I have a growth.

The pain is unimaginable.

Yeah, I've heard it all before.

"I'm sick." "My water broke." "This is a robbery, put your hands up.

Why are you crying? I just want the money." Keep moving.

- I can't. It hurts. - Why should I believe you?

Oh! Fuck me in the dick, what is that?

Steve! Steve, get the manager!

- Sic him, Marley! - Hey!

Hey!

Yeah, don't come back! It's a family bookstore!

You wanna flash your cooch? Go to City Lights!

"Shopping garage sales.

Fancier neighborhoods have better stuff than poor or middle class ones."

No shit.

I can't believe I almost got arrested for this.

Oh, wait.

I am a dummy.

One minute she's figured out life, the next she's digging through junk mail.

The ups and downs of Miss Sophia.

Yeah, it's all part of the process.

Yes!

Is the Penny Saver number five or six

on the list of habits of highly effective people?

A, I'm not loving your attitude.

B, I'm looking for estate sales. C...

Babe, I know you are not alphabetizing me right now.

I didn't have a C anyway.

- Hey, girl, hey. - Hey.

Landlord don't like it when I smoke in my place.

So, you're gonna do it here?

Child, I have been at airport security all day long, looking people in the eyes.

You only get a split second to read their souls.

Are they good? Are they evil?

Am I really mankind's last line of defense?

And when I come home, I needs to smoke up

so I can clear that shit out of my brain.

Or else I go crazy.

So, yeah, I'm gonna smoke here.

Okay, fine. Just don't distract me. I'm trying to focus.

Okay. But you know how difficult it is for me to keep my mouth shut.

These old ladies, they don't wanna check nothing.

One was coming from Napa

with four bottles of Merlot in her old lady purse.

War hero. That sucks.

Controversial opinion, but it's your home.

Four bottles.

So, I had to say to her, I said, "Look, ma'am, you can't bring that on here.

You're gonna either have to throw it out or drink 'em up right here."

So, goddamn it, she tried.

This other lady came on with a baby in a dog carrier.

I said, "No. Oh, hell, no! Oh, no, you better don't!"

Shh. No one cares about national security.

Rita Wertheimer.

Rita was a hairdresser who got married to an investment banker...

After that, she quit her job and started focusing on fund-raising.

Rita, a fixture in San Francisco high society, never missed a party.

He dies. She never remarries.

No kids. Dead at 76?

Ah!

This bitch's closet runs deep.

But a dog in a baby carrier, that sounds cute and socially acceptable.

Hmm.

Ooh, I gotta go!

Go get your man, girl!

Romance lives.

Why don't you have a wonderful day.

Master bedroom upstairs?

Uh, yes, but keep in mind, we have to shut down soon.

Um, watch your step.

Oh!

Is... is that all that's left?

Yes, they're not even my size, but they're Chanel.

I have to own them.

You know, this is gonna sound so crazy, but I left some Chanel in here earlier.

You see a grown woman standing in front of you, right?

Yeah, you're right, you're right. I could do better.

Get your twiggy little arms off my Chanel!

- All right, calm down. - God, you fucking riffraff!

Holy... fuck.

Oh, that hurt.

Okay. Time to rest.

Save a spot for me down there, Rita.

Hey, you can't sleep in here.

How long have I been out?

Hours?

Days?

What time is it?

It's, uh, ten after three.

Hm.

A few minutes then.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I think so.

I was just trying to open that trunk

and a wave of pain went through every inch of my body.

You want me to call somebody?

No.

I want you to open that trunk.

Oh, thank God. It's just winter clothes.

I once worked one of these sales with a beautiful roll-top desk.

I opened up a drawer. Full of teeth.

- Gross. - Yeah, it was a lot of teeth.

More than several mouths.

So, how much for all of this?

Well, we never inventoried it, so 20 bucks.

I almost died. How about ten?

Mm.

Deal.

Are you sure you're okay?

Oh, yeah, I just have this, like, weird bump near my razor burn area.

Appeared out of nowhere. I'm hoping it goes away.

Yeah, zits go away on their own. Everything else just really gets worse.

- Never heard a grown man say "zits." - I'm serious.

One day, you're looking at a mole, next day, stage three melanoma.

- Hmm. - Take it from Rita Wertheimer.

- Rita died from skin cancer? - No, she shot herself from loneliness.

But through her charity, she raised money for skin cancer awareness.

So, go get that looked at. For Rita.

My ear's bleeding!

I'm sorry.

As a result of an adulterous affair!

I don't have much to say to you about that.

Okay!

Sophia, where are you?

Shane just got this new game. He and Dax are totally shredding!

Also, did I mention that Shane's here?

Annie, I'm the one who called you. That means I get to set the agenda.

- Well, talk to me, girl. Set my agenda. - Ask her when we're hanging out again.

- I'm at the free clinic. - You're at the free clinic?

- Red flag, dude. - I'm taking your advice

and getting my snatch looked at.

Can't hear you!

Bleeding ear!

Oh, boy. This place is awful.

Right now, I'm staring at a People magazine from the '90s

with Tonya Harding on the cover.

Her face is all red and puffy from sick hands that have touched it.

- Oh, no, doll. That's just how she looked. - Harriet Connick Jr.?

Oh, they just called for me.

I'm just gonna call in sick, and I'll come meet you.

No, don't do that. It's okay. I'm okay, really.

All right. You are gonna be fine. I know this, I'm very smart like that.

- Ms. Connick Jr.? - Yup, that's me.

- I gotta go. - Love you in case I die.

Love you in case I die. For real.

Yup, I feel it.

- What is it? - It appears to be an inguinal hernia.

A hernia?

I'm too young to have a hernia.

Well, some people tell me I'm too young to be a doctor, but here we are.

I may not know everything, but I know enough.

Okay, so, what's an "inguinual hernia"?

"Inguinal." Uh...

Some tissue, most likely your intestine, has protruded through the muscle wall.

How did I get it?

It can happen lots of different ways.

Were you engaging in any kind of unusual strenuous activity?

Um... Oh, yeah. Well, this morning I was celebrating because I kind of...

figured out life.

So, is it dangerous?

Nah, some live with them for years and never know they have them.

But if tissue becomes strangulated, meaning the blood flow to it gets cut off,

it could become necrotic, and that's potentially lethal.

So, it could be the most dangerous?

Just take it easy. If it hurts, take an Advil.

Okay, and then how do you fix it?

Do you just pop it back in

and then a bump grows on my head, like Tom and Jerry?

Heh, right? If only.

No, no, no, you'd have it done surgically.

- How much does that cost? - Hard to say.

I'd guess 3,000 to 5,000.

But if you have health insurance, it'd just be your deductible.

- Dude. - Doctor.

You think I would be here if I had health insurance?

After this, I'm gonna buy Advil with an Albertsons rewards card.

I wouldn't know where to begin to get health insurance.

Most people get it through their job.

Christ!

I need to get a job?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay.

- Everything okay? - No, it is not, sir!

Thank you so much for asking.

What?

Failure to curb tires?

This isn't even a fucking hill!

What?

Oh!

Bitches! Nothing but bitches.

Just keeping the woman down.

Hey.

Annie told me you're having my baby.

I thought that I was taking steps forward.

Now, I don't even know what direction forward is.

We should go inside.

Things are supposed to get better.

There's really no guarantee that that's true.

For tons of people, their lives just get worse and worse, and then...

that's just it!

They never figured out what they were put on this goddamn planet to do.

They just live, and then they die, and they take a big old mud nap?

And I'm standing out here in the rain, literally with my guts hanging out,

holding a dead woman's clothes in a dirty laundry bag!

My life has got to be better than this.

It just does...

right?

Right?

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