Smart People Page #3

Thank you for driving me.

You're welcome.

This is your house, right?

Yes.

Sh*t. Wait! Wait! Wait!

I forgot this.

Would you

like to have a face-to-face

conversation sometime?

We could finish our

discussion of Victorian literature.

We weren't really having a

conversation about Victorian literature.

I suppose I'd have to drive.

I hadn't thought of that.

How about Friday night at 7:30

for a face-to-face conversation?

That would work.

Okay, bye.

Smell something burning?

Maybe cannabis?

Are you mad?

I waited outside

the medical center for eons.

Where were you?

Helping Vanessa with her Spanish.

Lost track of time, sorry.

Where'd you get that?

The closet.

I told him Wellesley

was a women's college.

That's Caroline's sweatshirt.

That, too. I told him that, too. I told him

it was Mom's sweatshirt.

Take it off, please.

Did it ever occur to you

that I might be saving that sweatshirt?

Please don't rip it.

I think

he may have smelled the pot.

"I told him Wellesley

was a women's college."

God, what a narc.

You know, we didn't just

donate her clothes on a whim.

We did it for your

psychological well-being.

Will you wait in the car?

Let's see, "Professor Wetherhold

is a conceited d*ckhead,"

"An a**hole," "Unfair..."

Here's one.

What does it say?

"Professor Wetherhold

is knowledgeable,

"but he doesn't impart that knowledge

to his students.

"He barked information at us

all semester,

"and then he complained

when our papers did not measure up

"to his bizarre standards."

I'll dig deeper.

Hey, can we go to the mall

tonight instead of this afternoon?

There's, like, three games

I want to watch.

I can't go to the mall tonight.

- Why's that?

- I'm busy.

Yeah, busy with what?

I f***ing gotta go to the mall.

I have an appointment.

Really?

- Yes.

With who?

- With none of your business.

- An appointment with whom?

None of your business.

I just want to know. God!

Dr. Hartigan.

- I knew it.

- Good work.

You spend $50 on dinner,

that's grounds for intercourse

with "none of your business."

Dad, if there are any romantic inklings,

you're simply not ready.

I mean the sociosexual

mores have really shifted.

And look, let's not forget

the stigma attached to widowers.

Widowers. At some point the statute

of limitations has gotta run out on that.

We're not talking about this anymore.

Don't freak out and sabotage it

like you always do.

I don't always freak out

and sabotage it.

Yeah, well, this hospital is littered

with men you've left in your wake.

It's littered with men

you've left in your wake, too.

- What are you doing?

- Nothing.

Nothing. I'm just reading something.

I'll call you back, okay?

- Hi.

- Hi, there.

How are you?

What are you doing here?

Excuse me?

He's kind of a fragile guy.

You know, he's not ready for this.

He's fragile? What do you mean?

You know what?

It's quite predatory, actually.

Have you forgotten about

the Hippocratic oath you took,

about not f***ing your patients?

Your father's no longer my patient.

We respond to literary texts

using precisely the same

fundamental interpretive categories

as authors and poets use

to create them.

So there's no need to posit

any kind of unstable ontology

or ruptured consciousness.

- Are you following me?

- Yeah.

Any coffee?

Something from the desert menu?

- Yeah. I want...

- It's too late for coffee.

I'll tell you what.

One piece of chocolate cake

and two forks, two plates.

- So no one...

- Thank you.

...has ever looked at this process

of cultural criticism through the...

- Excuse me?

- 45 minutes.

That's how long it's been

since I've uttered a single word.

I mean, do you even know

where I'm from?

Where I grew up, where I live?

Do you know anything

about my family?

What kind of day did I have?

Well, if you actually did want to know,

I was having a great day

until about 30 minutes ago

when I realized

you weren't gonna shut up.

In fact, you actually gave me a C

in your course.

You said my paper was sophomoric.

I was a freshman.

That's not what sophomoric means.

I know. See, I know that.

You know, the other night

when I drove you home,

I actually thought I saw

a different side of you.

But now I'm back to thinking

you're the same pompous windbag

who made me switch my major

from English to Biology.

Well. Certainly an established

physician is not harboring resentment

for a grade she received

more than 10 years ago.

This was a mistake.

Your daughter was right.

Thank you.

It's probably better

if you get a cab home.

I take it by your presence here at 8:45,

you did not get laid.

Yeah, come in, unless it's Chuck.

I'm back.

Thank God.

This is a good-sized room.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure

you've been in here before.

Do you think I'm self-absorbed?

I think self-absorption's underrated.

I think everyone needs

some compassion,

some capacity for sympathy, empathy.

- Right?

- Dad,

Theresa Sternbridge practically runs

a soup kitchen,

and she's always seen posing

in photos with crack babies

and dying, old, crusty ladies.

And do you know why?

She scored in the 45th percentile

on her SAT.

People like you and me

don't need to compensate.

You know, I'm glad you're home early.

That physician wasn't good for you.

Too young and kind of uncultured,

like oh-so-many

in the medical profession...

I thought of the perfect new title

for your book.

Right?

Good night.

Bonsoir.

Someone please shed some light

Where is the narrator in my life

Maybe he doesn't know where I've fled

Running through the city in my head

I shed regret

What are you doing here?

That gurney was sterile.

I re-read your essay.

And...

At first I considered

giving it a higher grade,

but then, I decided

that the C should stick.

Do you honestly think

that I care about a grade I received

when I was a freshman in college?

I mean, I admit that the paper,

as you originally wrote,

"lacks a clear focus

and rambles like a bad folk song."

But I read it again the other day

and its thesis is really quite good.

I should have been more diplomatic

and less pompous as your professor

and as your dinner date.

True.

I'm just out of practice.

What? Usually you're better

at masking your pomposity?

Could we give this

face-to-face conversation

one more try?

I haven't been on a date in a while.

I'd have to drive again, I suppose.

Merry Christmas!

F***!

It was clever of you

to reserve the same table.

I wanted to make sure

that I had an authentic second chance.

Would you like

to start with some wine?

Well, I'm on call tonight,

so I can't drink.

- You're on call?

- Yeah.

So this date may end at any moment?

Well, if I'm paged, yes.

- I can come back in a minute.

- No, no.

It's okay. It's okay.

I will have the lobster,

and a house salad, and

the house dressing on the side, please.

And for you, sir?

Oh, yes, the clock is ticking.

I'm going to have the cod

and house salad,

house dressing on the side.

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