The Seven Year Itch Page #5

I had a peanut butter sandwich

and two whiskey sours.

- Mr. Brady.

- Oh, Sherman, come in.

Well, what is it?

I've been with this company for years,

and I've never asked for a favor.

- You had a raise in February.

- I'm not talking about that.

This is more important than money.

I want two weeks off to join

my wife and son in the country.

This is our busy season.

We're preparing our fall list.

I'm very tense and upset.

I'm on the verge of a breakdown.

If I could get back with my wife--

- How long have you been married?

- Seven years.

In a few years, you'll be delighted

to get rid of them for the summer.

Shipped them to Nantucket

yesterday afternoon...

...and I haven't been to bed since.

Drank bourbon, smoked cigars,

played poker till this morning.

Came to the office.

Never felt better in my life.

I may not go to bed at all till

the family gets back in September.

If I stay in New York alone...

...there's a chance I may not live

to see September.

That's ridiculous, Sherman.

You're just a little lonely.

What about us teaming up tonight,

seeing if we can get lucky?

It doesn't have to be just poker.

We'll cut loose

and have us a real hootenanny.

It's very kind of you, but

I don't think-- No hootenannies.

Suit yourself, but I've been

thinking about that fall list.

What would you think

of a 25-cent reprint...

-. . .of The Portrait of Dorian Gray?

- Dorian Gray?

Look what we'll be giving them

for a quarter!

Vice, lust and corruption.

The story of a young man:

On the surface, clear-eyed

and healthy, just like you.

But underneath, dry rot.

The termites of sin and depravity,

gnawing at his soul.

How does that strike you?

No, no. No.

Chapter six:

"The Infidelity Pattern

in the Married Male...

...or the 'seven-year itch.'

A study of 18,000 marriages

conducted by myself...

...leads us to believe that

the 'urge curve' in the husband...

...rises sharply during

the seventh year.

This phenomenon is humorously...

...referred to

as the seven-year itch.

Far from humorous,

this unfortunate urge...

...strikes 84.6%

of the married male population...

...rising to an alarming 91.8%

during the summer months."

Changed my mind.

"Case history A:
Gustaf Meyerheim,

the mad lover of Leipzig.

An extreme, but not unusual

case of the seven-year itch...

...occurred in Leipzig,

Germany in 1912.

Gustaf Meyerheim, happily married

for seven years...

...suddenly--" Seven years!

- Dr. Brubaker to see Mr. Sherman.

- Doctor, you're early.

Yes, my 3:
00 patient

jumped out of the window.

So I'm ahead of schedule.

Which door?

This one.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Sherman.

- Dr. Brubaker.

I see you've been working on my book.

It's a wonderful book.

Very important.

- It has something for everyone.

- Yes.

You'll be happy to know

that we're giving it a big promotion.

You'll be seeing this

in every drugstore in America.

-"Of Sex and Violence"?

- We had to soup up the title.

What does this represent?

Gustaf Meyerheim,

the mad lover of Leipzig...

...terrorizing one of his victims.

Isn't that sensational?

May I remind you that Meyerheim

was small, with a red beard?

Nobody knows that.

They know it in Leipzig.

And all his victims

were middle-aged women.

Don't you think it'd be

more effective...

...to show a man terrorizing

a young girl, sales-wise?

I'm not a salesman. I'm a doctor.

I heal sick minds.

I find ways to root out insecurities,

neuroses, inner tensions...

- What is it? What are you looking at?

- Nothing.

- Does that mean something, doctor?

- No, nothing serious.

- Dark clouds on the psychic horizon.

- That's preposterous.

A twitch in a thumb,

a nerve or a muscle.

You psychiatrists make a case

out of it. Of all the ridiculous...

- Are you very expensive?

- Very.

- I'm sure you make exceptions.

- Never.

If a case really interests you?

At $50 an hour,

all my cases interest me.

If you run into something spectacular,

another Gustaf Meyerheim--

You wouldn't believe this,

but last night...

...I found myself terrorizing

a young lady.

That could account for the thumb.

Actually, it wasn't that bad.

I just made a little boo-boo.

Psychoanalysis doesn't recognize

the boo-boo as such.

Everything is unconscious.

I was completely conscious.

I told her to take

her potato chips and go.

- Potato chips. If you please...

- All right, doctor.

I'm in serious trouble. I'm married.

"Serious trouble. Married."

So far, normal.

I've been married for seven years.

I'm coming down with what you call

the seven-year itch.

- What am I going to do?

- If something itches, scratch.

I scratched. There was this lady.

Everything went black.

I terrorized her,

I attempted to terrorize her.

The attempt was unsuccessful?

Definitely. All I did was knock

us both off the piano bench.

Let me understand.

You attempted to terrorize...

...a young lady on a piano bench?

Yes.

And on whose person

was this attempt committed?

Here, doctor. I brought this with me.

I didn't wanna leave it

lying around the house.

That's her.

Her hair was a little longer then.

It's called "Textures" because

you can see three different textures.

It got honorable mention.

Splendid. I congratulate you

on your good taste.

Interesting driftwood formation too.

I'll give you my advice.

Do not attempt it again.

But if you should,

give yourself room to work in.

Do not attempt it balanced

on a piano bench.

Such an attempt is doomed.

- I love my wife.

- Don't we all? Your time is up.

If you find yourself in need

of further analysis, phone my office.

As for my book, we'll resume

discussion as your...has subsided.

If she tells anybody about this,

I'll kill her with my bare hands.

A possible solution.

But murder is the most difficult

crime to commit.

Until you can commit

a simple act of terror...

...I strongly advise you

to avoid anything so complex.

One must learn to walk

before one can run. Goodbye.

I'm in big trouble.

Girls like this can't keep

their mouths shut.

This'll be all over New York.

I bet right this minute

she's telling someone about it.

He lured me in his apartment.

He made me sit on his piano bench.

He made me play "Chopsticks."

Then he turned on me.

He was frothing at the mouth...

...just like the creature from

the Black Lagoon!

I knew it. I knew it!

That's how these stories get started.

Big blabbermouth.

Then he lured her

into his apartment...

...pretended he wasn't married.

He forced her onto the piano bench.

I know him very well. He was in

here for dinner, 260 calories.

He forced her to sit

on the piano bench...

...and then he

made her play "Chopsticks."

The word is spreading. It's spreading.

It's like jungle drums.

Everybody knows about it.

Everybody's talking about it.

Television!

I forgot she's on television.

And now with the coaxial cable...!

I had onions at lunch.

I had garlic dressing at dinner.

But he'll never know...

...because I stay kissing-sweet

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