Finding Neighbors

- I guess I've been asleep

for most of my life.

Oh, there were moments

of clarity,

flashes,

snapshots in time.

But overall, a long slide

through dreamland.

But wait.

That's me.

I do remember that

and that.

Those were good times.

The artist as a young man.

The world was my oyster.

But, you know,

I wondered about it, even then

the success,

the adulation.

Was it real?

Did I deserve it?

Or was I an imposter?

I mean, I did the work.

Well, I did some work.

But when it all fell away,

it was almost a relief,

a validation of my suspicions

about myself.

Then what are you left with

when all that dries up?

Alcohol? Women?

I went there, big time.

It seemed harmless at first.

Then I almost lost it all,

everything,

even my lovely wife, Mary.

Ask her.

She'll tell you.

I miss it.

She knows I do.

The glory days.

So when the guys next door

rented out their guest house

to Mary's pal Sherrie,

I can't say

that I didn't notice.

I mean, come on.

But around here, it seems like

everyone's got their issues,

even me.

Because, I admit it,

sleep,

it can be nice.

- Tucker, it's Warren.

So what happened

to the deadline?

To say we need to talk

is an understatement.

- Can you get that?

Sam?

- Is this yours?

- It looks like it.

- We heard you out there.

- Where?

- Outside the window.

You degenerate.

Next time, we turn you in.

- What was that?

- Um, the guy from next door

brought back our flashlight.

- Oh, he borrowed it?

- Not exactly.

Is this ours?

- I don't know.

Ooh, I got to go.

I'm late.

Bye.

- Here's your f***ing

flashlight.

- Hey, watch your language.

- This is ours.

You think I was spying?

What's wrong with you?

- Is there something wrong

with us?

- Don't do that.

You're not baiting me.

I got plenty of gay friends,

and I'm not putting up with it

from you or your associate.

- One, two, three.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

- Hey.

- What you doing?

- Nothing.

I'm just driving home.

- Can I tell you again

how much I love this place?

- Oh, I'm so glad.

Hey, what about

the hot Italian guy?

- He's still hot.

- Yeah?

Like a meatball sandwich, huh?

- Meaty and sweaty and

- Okay, all right, got it.

Can't wait to meet him.

Sam.

Sam, wewe're gonna be late.

- She's my sister, so...

- She's done a really good job.

- You one of the staff here?

- Oh, my wife.

Just recently.

- Congratulations.

- She just renewed her license.

- The one with the orange?

- Mm-hmm.

- Everyone seems

to really like her.

- I'm Sam.

- Mike.

- What's your connection here?

- Senior Therapist.

I retire in two months.

- Good for you.

- Thanks.

- Although I don't know if I'd

ever personally use that word

retirement.

A lot of people

would say I'm retired already.

Nothing much would change, so...

Are you looking forward to

- Did you have a good time?

- It's not really my crowd.

- Yeah, what's your crowd?

- Good point.

You?

- I did. I had a nice time.

- You're sure you're okay

with it,

going back to work?

- Oh, Sam, come on.

I'm working,

and I'm excited.

- Come on.

Don't be stupid.

- Don't insult me.

- Things won't always

be so good.

- You think I don't know that?

- So appreciate it.

- I need more.

- Than a roof over your head?

- You know

what I'm talking about.

You know exactly!

- But we're doing fine.

We're doing so well.

- "So well" falls very short.

- Tucker, it's Warren.

I'm taking some real heat here.

They're gonna kick it

over to legal.

I can't protect you,

not this time.

- Sam, I thought you said

you were gonna call him back.

- Oh, I did.

I, um, I left him a message.

- Legal?

- He exaggerates.

He's an agent.

- All right, have a good day.

- You too.

- Hi.

I came to apologize.

- Don't worry about it.

- That flashlight could have

been there for a while.

The batteries were dead.

Maybe we heard a skunk.

I'm on my way

to the post office,

but to make amends,

may I buy you a coffee?

- Jane.

Hi, I'm Mary Tucker.

Do you want to come on in?

Okay, I'm gonna step back

in my office.

You come in when you're ready.

- So you're the wife, like me?

- Well, I'm not sure

I would describe it like that.

- No, no, no, of course not.

- But Paul would.

And the crazy thing...

I have no idea

how I arrived here.

Paul, Paul has a job.

Paul has a life.

- You don't have a life?

- I suppose I do,

but... boring.

- What's your thing?

- Literature.

Critical studies.

But my dream...

photography, fine art.

I'll own a gallery someday.

- That's pretty specific.

Did you study it?

- No, but I've got applications

everywhere.

Paul has friends in high places,

but he needs me at home.

But enough about me.

What about you that you can be

at the house so much?

- Oh, I stay pretty busy.

- And if you don't mind

my asking...

- I write.

- How exciting.

- Graphic novels.

- Anything I might have seen?

- Well, my first,

some years ago,

was called Grand Central.

- Oh, my God.

Sam Tucker?

What happened?

- What?

- You know what they say,

Never meet your heroes.

- That doesn't sound good.

- You were a chapter

of my dissertation.

I devoured you.

Until Bluebird.

- Ha, fair enough.

- So what are you

working on now?

- Truthfully?

- Of course.

- Nothing.

- I don't understand.

- I'm kind of stuck right now.

Howie sits.

- Howie?

- My protagonist.

- So let's talk about it.

- Talk?

- Of course.

- Um, excuse me.

Hello.

- Hey, how's your day going?

- Good.

- Yeah, what are you doing?

- Slogging along.

- What's that noise?

- I came down to the crossing.

- With your laptop?

- Yeah.

- Does that battery work?

- I plugged it in.

- You sound weird.

- Will you stop saying that?

Good night.

- Night.

Okay, Howie, give it up.

You got anything?

- Oh.

- Today we're making

peppered pork

with a cognac pan sauce.

So let's start

with our fresh ingredients,

a mlange of peppercorns,

fennel,

garlic, vegetable oil, sea salt,

and a flawless

5-pound pork butt.

- Oh. Ah.

- Oh, yeah, yeah.

- Oh, yeah.

Oh!

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

- It's Warren.

So they did it.

It's with legal.

They're gonna sue.

They want your advance back

and now damages on top.

You could have prevented this

any number of ways.

I'd appreciate any kind

of goddamn response.

- So what's this about, Sam?

Do you like what you see?

- I have no idea

how to answer that.

- You feeling a little funny

in your pants?

Sam?

What are you doing in there?

- Hey, Tucker.

The usual?

- Make it a double.

- You okay, man?

- Yeah, you know.

I just woke up.

- That's the life.

- Found it.

The dissertation.

"After his first two works

were largely overlooked,

"Samuel Tucker began to fear

that there was no appreciation

"for the serious artist

"in a culture obsessed

with constant stimulation.

"So the agenda for

the third book, Bluebird Sky,

"a collaboration

with then novice Andrew Koch,

"was to dumb it down

and to incorporate

"humorous reportage

on contemporary society

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