Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber

Perfect.|Just perfect.

Okay Dove,|move closer to your sister.

Mom, give me a big smile.

Great. We're beautiful! Now|let's get one with the groom.

Where is Nathan?

Nathan?

Nathan?

Sweetie?

Stan, could you make this quick? I'm|kind of in the middle of something.

Katya, I'm in jail,|I'm your tax accountant...

and you're probably|going to get audited.

-Is that good enough?|-Your point is?

You need to start|a tax journal...

and write down all|of your expenses.

Darling,|I'm not the bookkeeper.

I have a frantic social|calendar, a thriving career...

and a scandalous love life.

Well, unless you want to add 'imminent|prison sentence', you'll do it.

Also...|-Katya?

Oh my God!

What are you doing?

Taking a breather. The best man|really lives up to his title.

He's not the best man!

I'm Nathan, the groom.

My God. I'm sorry.|I really am.

I missed the wedding.|Just got here.

Great! You found him!

Thank you.

Congratulations.

Good afternoon, everyone.

Katya...

Katya!|Katya, wait!

Would you stop stalking me?

It's over, okay! Don't|I have a restraining order?

Yes. Sweetie, come on...

I'll never get a girl.

It's a great deal, man.

How much?

-Which one?|-The Dalmation.

-Fifty.|-Twenty.

-Forty.|-Twenty!

-Thirty.|-Twenty.

Come on, Darling,|don't pout.

Every socialite in San Francisco|is going to see me with that bag.

Honestly,|you should be paying me.

First entry of stupid|tax journal...

Nazi accountant|is forcing me to keep.

Mont Blanc pen to write down|expenditures: two hundred dollars.

Bang & Olufson|mini-recorder...

since Mont Blanc|chipped manicure:

free,|as pilfered from office.

Spent two thousand dollars on wear|and return gown for Dove's wedding.

Worn to wedding,|funeral and bar mitzvah.

Still has tag,|and luckily, no stains.

Thank God for 30 day|return policy.

A tax journal?

Something about 'over|declared business expenses.'

I don't know, who has the time?

If you still need write-offs, you|should reconsider adopting Sabelo.

Who?

The orphan from Uganda|I was telling you about.

You can sponsor him through Youth Aid,|the non-profit I volunteer for.

Eliza, I told you I barely|have time to keep a journal...

let alone breast feed|an orphan.

He's eight.

You can't smoke in here.

You know what?|You're better than the patch.

So, how was your date|last night?

Horrible. He fell into a|manhole and now he's suing me.

Let me guess.|The Curse of Namambo?

I haven't had a boyfriend in|three years because of it.

-When it's going to wear off?|-Elevator's here.

I don't know when it's going to end,|but that's what you get when...

you try to pay a West Indies high|priestess ten bucks to do you cornrows.

I thought I was supporting|the local economy!

It just goes to show you|you try to do a good deed...

and you end up with a voodoo curse|that cripples potential husbands.

This is why I avoid|philanthropy.

-Good morning.|-Good morning, Eliza.

Katya, you're late.

By, like, five minutes,|Gatekeeper.

Where'd you get that bag?

I went to Lulu Guinness|and I bought it.

They cost a fortune.

Darling, don't you know that|looking good is everything?

No matter how much it costs?

Nevermind.

Wait!|I made seaweed snacks.

They're totally organic.|No sugar, no flour...

No fun.

Sorry.|She doesn't mean it.

Who the hell are you?

I'm Sebastian.

Sebastian who?

What is that thing|in my office?

What thing?

That pre-pubescent|thing in my office?

You must mean the new hire?

Mr. Cosgrove will be in|shortly to explain it to you.

How am I supposed to get any work done|with someone breathing next to me?

It is an office|for two people, Katya.

I do not need this right now!

-I will be in boss-man's office.|-You are not allowed.

Not allowed?

You know, actually,|I forgot...

I got you a little something.

Lulu Guinness?

For me?

Stan, darling, if I adopt|a Third World child...

can I claim an exemption|as a single mother?

Adopt?

You mean you're going|to be a mom?

No, silly.|It's like rent-a-kid.

That Sally Struthers thing,|'for 79 cents a day, blah blah'

Thank god. I mean, I'm|moved by your selflessness.

So, yes or no|on the exemption?

No. But the IRS loves charitable|deductions. So do it.

Now this is|really important...

Hello.

Katya, what are you|doing in my office?

Don't you want to talk to me|about that child in my office?

As a matter of fact I would|like to talk to you about that.

It seems that you have now scared away|another assistant art director.

And this time|in a record two weeks.

It is not my fault that she|couldn't handle the competition...

or that I'm a good|eleven pounds thinner.

Is this a bad time?

This is a perfect time.|Come on in. Come on in.

Now you can meet our new assistant|art director. This is Sebastian.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

I'm sure it is.

Lyle, if you|had consulted me first...

I might've suggested someone old enough|to take clients to drinks.

Actually, I'll be|twenty-one in a month.

Whatever he lacks in age, he|more than makes up for in brains.

He's a smart kid, you know he|graduated from your Alma Mater.

Stanford?

Of course. Can I have a word|with you? Alone?

Sure, I'll just|be in our office.

It's such an honor|to meet you.

Our office? I'm not sharing|an office with that tween!

This is an ad agency,|not Romper Room!

Will you hold that thought while|you're stepping away from my desk?

Thank you.

Look, Katya, I tried to find|someone with real experience...

but the truth is no one|will work with you.

-Your reputation proceeds you.|-Really?

Stop that. It's not good to|be known as a prima donna.

Even though my last Campbell's|campaign doubled their sales.

You're the one who told me you|needed help with the workload.

You have Dr. Bolls|tomorrow at noon.

Take him under your wing.|Use him however you need.

However I need?

He's a dead man.

Carrot celery and wheatgrass|for me, thank you.

Non-fat milk.

-What is that?|-Baryshnikov.

-What's that?|-Skinny white Russian.

I thought you couldn't do lunch|because you had too many errands?

Darling, that's what|a cabana boy is for.

Sebastian!

After dropping off|my drycleaning...

he cleaned|my make-up brushes...

and then took the rest of his lunch|off to pick up my birth control.

Katya! That's horrible! He's|an assistant, not a slave.

Of course he's not. I would|never take advantage of him.

He does have a nice ass.

This is why you can never keep|a relationship, you objectify men.

He's not a man. He's a boy.

And the reason that I have|trouble keep a relationship...

is because the men I go out with are|not worthy of my inner goddess.

Your standards|are way too high.

What is wrong with wanting a man that|has the looks of George Clooney...

the real estate|of Donald Trump...

and the bank account|of Bill Gates?

Because, for the hundredth|time, he doesn't exist!

Yes he does. I just|haven't found him yet.

And until I do, I'm prepared|to be a single mother.

-Excuse me?|-I'm ready to adopt Sabelo.

Katya, I'm so thrilled!

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