06x02 - Go-Go Boots and a Butt Cushion

[bunniefuu]

- Previously on Mom...
- You forgot to wear

the only diamond earrings
you've ever had?

Where was the last
place you saw them?

In the middle of a poker table.

Anything but seven.

Seven out.

No! That's my mom's bail money.

I can give you a
coupon to the buffet.

Can I bet it?

- The money's gone.
- Christy, it is time to admit

you've got another problem.

Why aren't you eating?

I just came from a Gamblers
Anonymous meeting.

- Their food puts AA to shame.
- Hmm.

One guy makes jambalaya with
his own alligator sausage.

Oh, poor alligator.

So you probably don't want to
hear about the baby lamb chops.

I do not.

But I'm glad GA's
working for you.

The food's working, but I don't
know about the rest of it.

Most of the shares are old guys
talking about horse racing,

and the "good old days,"
when you could smoke inside.

Those were good days, Christy.

Damn, what I'd give
to finish my ciggy

and stub it out in
these mashed potatoes.

The thing is, in AA, we
give up dr*gs and alcohol

'cause... holy cow, do we
like dr*gs and alcohol.

But in GA,

I have to give up stuff I don't
even have a problem with.

I can't play bingo.

Bingo. How is that
gonna destroy my life?

I lost an aunt to church bingo.

There's a dark
side to that game.

I'm not even supposed
to flip a coin,

which frankly, is the only way
to get my mom to do anything.

Look, you just got
started in GA.

Y-You got to give it a chance.

I didn't just start, I got
my 90 day key chain today.

You did? Congratulations.

For what? When I got
sober for 90 days,

that was a huge accomplishment.

I mean, I wanted a parade.

And I'm not talking

three Shriners in a convertible,

I'm talking Al Roker pointing
up at a giant inflatable me.

Sometimes I think your
problem is low self-esteem.

Other times, not so much.

Yeah, well, I've
made up my mind.

I'm gonna stop going to GA.

As it is,

I don't even have time for
the things I need to do.

Like what?

Well, like...

I just don't want to go anymore.

There she is.

Show me that 90 day key chain.

Yeah, Mom, about that.

I think I'm actually
just gonna...

Surprise!

Surprise.

Oh, my God.

We are so proud of you.

You had a problem,
and you addressed it

with another program.
It's inspiring.

You guys, this is so
totally unnecessary.

That's what I said. I mean,
when did we start doing this?

Seriously, this girl sneezes,
and we throw her a party.

Shush.

I made a cake.

You made that?

You didn't just take it
out of Marjorie's hand

when she walked in the door?

I made it from scratch.

Out of the box.

Maybe I don't know
what scratch means.

Let me get this straight.

Your mom made you a cake,

and that's gonna keep you
in Gamblers Anonymous?

You don't understand.

She has never baked me a cake.

One birthday, she gave
me a martini olive

with a candle in it.

That's so sad.

Not really, I got a
little buzz off it.

I don't usually do this.
I'm gonna give you a hug.

Aw. You're like a blanket
right out of the dryer.

You know, if you're
gonna stick with GA,

you might want to give
it an honest try.

- I've been trying.
- Oh. Have you shared?

- No.
- Have you made any friends?

- No.
- Do you have a sponsor?

Stop trying to trick me,
just tell me what to do.

Any of the three
things I just said.

Good Lord, it's like a
Sizzler up in there.

Hi, I'm Christy.

Lucy. How you doing?

Okay, I guess.

I'm looking for a sponsor.

Geez, you mean me?

I got three days.

That new casino off
Highway 12 is k*lling me.

- I haven't been there.
- Oh, it's great.

The chairs by the slots?

Super comfortable.

I don't even have to
bring my butt cushion.

I'm gonna see if there's
any cornbread left.

Good luck.

I wouldn't shout
"good luck" in here.

People get a little twitchy.

Oh, right. Sorry.

I'm kidding. Hi, I'm Ned.

Christy.

Saw you take a key
chain yesterday.

How's it going?

Okay.

I mean... I'm not sure.

Can I be honest with you, Ned?

- I don't think I belong here.
- Want to bet?

I'm serious.

I've had three major
gambling incidents.

Three times in my whole life.
Is that an addiction?

'Cause if so, then I'm also
addicted to Intro to Algebra.

Hey, Mr. Munson. Whatcha doing?

Waiting for my
friend who promised

to take me to my
radiation treatment.

Oh, God. What kind of heartless
friend forgets to...

Oh, my God, it's me, isn't it?

I am so sorry.

Time flies when you're
hosing out a dumpster.

Can you give me, uh, 20
minutes to get cleaned up?

Well, let me check
with my cancer.

What do you think, boss?

Mr. Prostate said we got to go.

For years I was just
a racetrack guy.

Then the racetrack
opened a poker club.

Which was convenient,
until it cost me my job.

But... I figured, see,
that was a good thing,

because it was obvious I was
gonna make more money gambling

than I would selling
retractable canvas awnings.

And then I took a second
mortgage out on the house,

without telling my wife.

And when you get away

with a secret second mortgage,

then it's obvious that the
universe is telling you

to dip into your
daughter's college fund.

- Was that your bottom?
- No, no.

That was a couple
of years later,

when I was lying in the street

with a broken kneecap and my
teeth scattered all around me.

Yikes, I thought that only
happened in the movies.

No, it also happens in Oakland.

Um...

One of my bookie's "colleagues"
b*at me with a flashlight.

And then he kicked
me, and he said,

"You still owe us the
money," which to me seemed,

you know, a bit unfair.

Wow.

So I went to a Gamblers
Anonymous meeting

before I even went to the
dentist, and of course,

I should've gone to
the dentist first,

because nobody could understand
a word I was saying.

That was 22 year ago, and,
uh, it saved my life.

See, that's the thing.

I sit in meetings and hear
story after story like yours,

but I don't relate to any of it.

My gambling looked
nothing like that.

Well, there are two
types of gamblers.

There are... cucumbers
and there are pickles.

A cucumber goes

to Vegas and loses
a little money

or maybe even a lot of money,

and then goes back
to a regular life.

A pickle goes to Vegas,
loses everything

and then moves to Vegas.

I'm pretty sure I'm a cucumber.

You may be, but you
got to remember

that a cucumber can
become a pickle.

But a pickle can never go
back to being a cucumber.

So how do I know which one I am?

You could try a little
controlled gambling,

see how that goes.

A-Are you telling me to gamble?

Is this a trap? I...

If you can gamble a
little and then stop,

well, more than likely,
you don't have a problem.

But you got to be careful,
'cause if it triggers

a-a bigger binge, well,
then you got to call me.

Okay. Mm-hmm.

I got to tell you,
it's really weird

to take recovery advice from
a guy who's drinking a beer.

Mm.

Hard cider, but I feel you.

How you feeling?

My advice? Don't get cancer.

Making a mental note.

Mm. What kind of car is this?

An '85 Firebird.

Whoo, oh, that is a sweet ride.

Yeah. It was in 1985.

Now it's 3,000 pounds of scrap
metal and a cassette player.

Well, well, still, I
appreciate you driving me.

It's the least I can do.

Well, I would argue
the least you can do

is remember you said
you would do it.

Again, sorry about that.

Want to make it up to me?

- We've been over this. I'm engaged.
- Oh, no, no, no.

I'm thinking you
could let me drive.

You're blind.

I am? Well, at least I'm
still white and rich.

I don't think you
driving is a good idea.

It's a terrible idea.
I know that.

But right now, cancer is
in charge of everything.

I'd like to be in
control of something

for a couple of minutes.

Even if it's only
an old Firebird.

Light pole dead ahead!

Oh!

Ah!

Ooh. Oh, what is this, a V-8?

V-6, and please, slow down.

I baked you a cake!

- What?
- You're gambling? You had 90 days.

It's okay, this is called
"controlled gambling."

You can't control anything.

And I've known you
almost your entire life.

I bought ten scratchers.

I'm gonna do three of
them and leave the rest.

Which will prove I can
stop whenever I want.

This is insane.

This is like when I said I
could drink on an airplane

because I'm not technically
on planet Earth.

You're never technically
on planet Earth.

Now back off. Ned from my GA
meeting told me to do this.

Ned?

Okay, which one of
you idiots is Ned?!

All right, I'm gonna have
a meatball sandwich,

and then we're gonna talk.

She barged into my GA meeting
like a cracked out giraffe

and yelled at the guy
who's helping me.

I didn't yell, I don't yell.
I don't have to yell.

You yell all the time.

Do you want me to yell?
'Cause I'll yell.

You kind of asked for that.

Look, I had my doubts
about whether I need GA,

and Ned suggested I try
controlled gambling.

Ridiculous, right?

- Well, actually, Bonnie...
- Work with me!

Yelling.

When a newcomer is
really struggling

with doubts about
being an alcoholic,

I have suggested trying
some controlled drinking.

Why wasn't that offered to me?

Because you came to
your first meeting

on a stolen lawnmower.

You weren't there.

She didn't have to be.
That story's legendary.

I heard all you
were wearing were

go-go boots and a hockey jersey.

Is that true?

Yeah, Wendy, I got kicked
out of a hockey game.

I couldn't find my
car or my pants.

Over the past week, I've
played lotto twice,

did a little online poker.

Even bet a busboy I could
work an entire shift

without saying the word "enjoy."

So I went with mangia,

but it made everyone
uncomfortable.

But the point is, none
of it triggered me,

which proves I am not
addicted to gambling.

Yes, you are.

Maybe Christy's right.

I mean, I know someone
who got really drunk

on New Year's Eve, slept
with her Uber driver,

and mistook a neighborhood
raccoon for her cat.

She got herpes and
rabies in one night,

but she's not an alcoholic.

There you go.

I'm the gambling version of
her disease-riddled friend.

And later, if you do
discover you have a problem,

- you know where to go.
- Well...

everyone at this
table can suck it.

I gambled three times.
You keep saying that,

but you've always been
a degenerate gambler.

What are you talking about?

By the time you were
in third grade,

you were hustling
drunks at pool.

That's 'cause someone used
the bar at the bus station

as day care.

It takes a village, Christy.

And the syrup goes in the fridge

unless you also want to
gamble with botulism.

"Refrigerate after opening."

It's like you want me to
have a gambling problem

just so you can be right;
you're rooting against me.

Rooting against you?

Did I not stand in
this very kitchen

and spend ten hours
making you a cake?

You are on your way to
getting a law degree,

and if you're not careful you
can kiss that dream good-bye.

You know what I think? I
think all you care about

is that I become a lawyer
so you're off the hook.

What hook? In your twisted mind,

if I become a success,
then it won't matter

that you were the
world's worst mother.

Well, guess what.

You'll never be off the hook

no matter how many
terrible cakes you make.

- You said it was delicious.
- I lied!

It tasted like salad dressing.

How does that happen?

We were out of milk.

- Whoa.
- What?

It's a check for $5,432.

Is it made out to me?
Did I sell my book?

No, it's an excess check.

What the hell's an excess
check, and how do I get one?

It's left over from
my student loan.

It's for school supplies
and living expenses.

- Well, then give it to me.
- No.

- You can't be trusted. No.
- Oh, my God, would you stop? Ugh!

And FYI, no one is buying
your young adult novel.

You're a decade late
for teenage vampires.

And FYI to you, I changed
it to teenage robots.

And one of them's transgender.

I mean, is Christy right?

Am I really so selfish
that the only reason

I want my daughter
to be a success

is so that I'll feel better
about being a bad mom?

I guess it's possible.

I mean, I know I can be selfish.

And if I forget, I've
got people reminding me

every ten minutes.

But I think maybe... this
time it's about love.

Is that so hard to believe?

Something one could
say in this moment...

is that I have indeed
changed a little

in the last couple of years.

I do things for other people
that don't just benefit me.

Like this ride to the doctor.
Nothing in it for me.

Nothing.

Not even conversation.

Are you pouting because I
won't let you drive again?

Yep.

Hi, Ned, it's Christy from GA,

and, uh, I'm in the parking lot

of that casino off Highway 12.

And I've got $5,000 in my hand.

So, anyway...

hope you're having
a good afternoon.

And if you have a
chance, call me back.

Okay, thanks. Bye.

Oh, screw it.

Mom, I need your help.

Don't think about gambling.

Don't think about gambling.

Don't think about blackjack.

Don't think about the
Wheel of Fortune slots

with the progressive
jackpot that's probably

six figures right now.

What if I just have
a shrimp cocktail

and watch other people gamble?

That'd be fine, right?

I think it would be fine.
Let's go!

I'm here. I'm here.

Oh, thank God.

Oh, I'm so proud of
you for calling me.

You still got the money, right?

Show me the money. Where is it?

I put it in the trunk.
It was talking to me.

Okay, don't take this to
mean I don't trust you,

but I'm gonna go check
if you're lying.

Mom, wait. You were right.

Go on.

I do have a gambling problem.

But only when I have money.

And since I so
rarely have money,

it doesn't come up that often.

Man, if we'd been rich,
we'd both be dead.

And what I said
earlier was unfair.

You really were just
looking out for me.

I realize that hasn't
always been the case,

so I get why you'd
have your doubts.

Wow.

You've really changed.

- And I haven't at all.
- Aw...

I got here as fast as I could.

- Did she gamble?
- She did not.

Good. Where's the money?

- In the trunk.
- Allegedly.

I came as soon as I got the message.
Did you gamble?

She did not.

Good. Someone has
the money, right?

There are unconfirmed reports
that it's in the trunk.

Go look if you don't believe me.

Of course I believe you.

Did we get here in time?

- Yes.
- Geez, Mom, did you call everyone?

Yeah. I was really worried.

- Scooch over, I'm coming in.
- Okay.

There's no room for me.

Wendy, since you're out there,
go look in the trunk and see

if you can find $5,000.

- What?
- Just do it!

You don't have to yell.

Thank you.

It means so much to me that
you guys are all here.

- I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up.
- Oh...

We're all screwups.

That's why we love each other.

No money back here.

- Christy!
- Wait, found it.

I never doubted you.

Give it a quick count.

Hang on, guys, I
got to take this.

Hi, Ned.

Turns out I'm a pickle.

Uh, Bonnie, I think someone's
stealing your car.

Damn it, Mr. Munson!

- Hey.
- Hey.

Did you try the bison tacos?

No, I filled up on the
buffet at the casino.

- You gambled again?
- Yeah.

Another first day.

Pathetic, right?

Not at all. I-I get it.

Thank God we have a place to go.

I know. And so convenient.

Right off the freeway, ample
parking, five dollar tables.

- I meant GA.
- Oh, right.

Focus, Lucy!

Hey, you want to be my sponsor?

I've only got one day myself.

But, uh...

But let me tell you something
that really helped me.

There are two kinds of gamblers:

cucumbers and pickles.