01x03 - Signs

[bunniefuu]

My fellow members of The Sixth Street
Community Center's "Writing Workshop:"

Beginners through Intermediates"...

You hold in your hands today

more... than just
the first chapter of my novel.

You also hold... my heart.

Am I nervous? A little.

Am I nauseous? Extremely.

But mostly, I am excited

because I know that your mixed,

but largely positive feedback,
is going to serve

as the gentle nudge
that I need to tell myself
that I am a writer!

I have something to say

and the world is a better place with me...

- Touch of a man.
- Okay, no.

I am not letting you do this.

This is my day.

I just don't get it, Linds.

If you know for a fact
that you're a terrible writer...

I'm not a terrible writer.

...then why would you agree
to share that terrible writing

beyond the confines of your own sad self?

Everything is telling you
the same thing, sweetheart:

You made a mistake. Leaving Ned?

Nothing is telling me that.

You, you were almost decapitated by
a falling air conditioner two weeks ago.

- That was a sign.
- I survived, didn't I?

- You've been hit by three cabs.
- At very low speeds.

It's time to give up whatever this
prolonged emotional breakdown is

and come home.

- I belong here...
- In this city. In this vocation.

And today is gonna prove it.

Everybody is gonna love my chapter.

- You have no reason to believe that.
- Is that so?

How about, uh,

this reason?

Well, you never count the first card.

Everybody knows that.
What about this reason?

It's funny. The devil's actually
a very misunderstood card

because it's really more
about the shadow...

Fu...

And you tell yourself,
"Oh, it's only a little rat bite."

Ten days later, your spleen
has swollen to the size of a ripe melon.

Mm, dehydrated ej*cul*te.

Lindsay Arthur?

I need to speak to you. In private.

You won't be coming back.

'Cause that's a sign.

What you've written... it made me
want to get out of bed this morning.

And that's quite rare.

- Oh, I-I'm so relieved that you liked it.
- Liked it?

The scene in the office,

when Linda manipulates Mitchell's genitals
until he begins to weep?

- It's a tour de force.
- Wow, thank you so much.

And then to leave us
with this delicious mystery.

The central question of the piece:

Why did Mitchell cry?

Well, you'll just have
to read chapter two to find out.

I called Gil Frond
first thing this morning.

He teaches Intermediate to Advanced.

He agreed to consider you for a slot.

Oh, my goodness.

He needs a writing sample
at the end of tomorrow by the very latest.

Oh, well, I can
just give him the chapter.

Gil has a 30-page sample requirement.

If you could submit
the first two chapters?

Well, I, I haven't
written chapter two yet.

Oh, not on paper,

but I'm sure you've
got it all figured out.

What sort of a writer
would you be otherwise?

Right.

- Jim in at or!
- Hey, I was actually hopin'

to maybe grab a few minutes with you.

Well, I was actually hopin'
to grab a few minutes with you.

I've been doin' a lot of thinkin'
about bringin' in my own business...

- Uh-huh.
- ...and I put together some ideas.

Well, I just took
a gander at the invite list

to Chad's bachelor party,
and you are on it, man.

Wow. That's... flattering.

Your trainer leaving her husband
for you is "flattering."

An invite to Chad's
bachelor party is monumental.

His dad is the CFO of la banque.

One week in Aspen.
We leave next Monday. BYO skis.

Guess I... better get some skis, then.

Yeah, but here's the real
head-butt in the d*ck:

You know that company in Texas,

the one that makes cattle feed
from chicken sh*t?

- Yeah.
- Q2 numbers just came in.

Not looking good.

Which means we're gonna
have to run all new projections

before we head out to private equity.

Which means I'm gonna need ya here,
building out a new deck.

- Oh, okay...
- Right, but there's no way

you're missing this party.

Our chalet is a who's who
of who decides who makes associate.

You have to be there.

But I'm also supposed to be here?

I know.

I get it. This is one
of those unsolvable problems

that you give to analysts to see
if they crack under the pressure.

"Be there, but don't be there,
but also... be there."

You have until Wednesday
to come up with a solve,

at which point
your invite reverts to Chris.

Oh hey, Germin, go f*ck yourself.

Miguel?! Miguel Jimenez?! Is that you?

- Oh, goddammit.
- Oh, she knows exactly who you are.

No one could forget that face.

- Drop to the floor.
- Pretend you're having a seizure.

It's Lindsay! Lindsay Arthur!

- This is not nice, what you're doing.
- Not nice at all.

- Talk about crazy.
- No one said anything about crazy.

- What brings you to, uh, this...
- neck of the woods?

I work here.

In the building we're
standing in front of.

- Tell her your base salary.
- That'll really f*ck her up.

That's right. I completely forgot.

- If she forgot, she's an idiot.
- If she's lying, she's a liar.

- Running into you like this?
- Out of the blue?

I mean... this is a sign.

Conjuring a fake sign?

A sign that... we both live in New York
and use the sidewalk?

There he is. That's my boy.

Hilarious. No.

It is a sign that I should
finally ask you this question.

I was wondering...

Why did you cry when I fumbled with
your private parts like a clumsy juggler?

...if you could ever forgive me
for standing you up at the diner?

Not in a million years.

Already have.

It's just... I, I should've told you

I... I came to New York to focus on myself
and find my voice as a writer.

But seriously... seriously,

- don't sweat it. I certainly didn't.
- Yeah, he only waited at the diner

- for you for an hour and a half.
- Ooh, ooh!

Get her to guess your FICO score.
That'll be a hoot.

And now she has a stain on her trousers.

How charming.

- Just shut up.
- f*ck off.

Well, excuse me
for offering outstanding advice.

- You know, I-I...
- Still, I would like to make it up to you.

How 'bout we grab that breakfast now?

- My treat.
- It's 5:00.

- Hm, true.
- European lunch? Old folks dinner?

Look, I'm dealing
with a pretty big crisis at work

and I need to dive back
in first thing tomorrow

- so if you could...
- Oh, my God! Way to bury the lede.

I excel in a crisis. How 'bout this?

We can grab a light snack,
I will solve your work problem for you,

and, uh, then we'll, uh, call it a day?

What about... a bus?
Have you considered a bus? It could work.

It's... 30 hours each way.

Okay, I can see how
that could be... difficult.

So far, this has been very helpful.

Here's a thought.

Have you considered that maybe
your bosses are using this

as a made-up assignment to mess with you?

Welcome to investment banking.

Are there good things about your job?

Well, the money doesn't hurt.

Sounds a little superficial.

- It's not just the money.
- I like the challenge.

Hm.

Ya don't eat, ya don't k*ll.

It's the other way around.

You know... you don't seem, like,

incredibly... k*ller-ish to me.

And how would you know what I'm like?

Well, you know, you did... cry when...

- Okay, yeah, no. I'm gonna go.
- Wait, wait. Miguel, wait.

- Why did you cry?
- I don't know.

Okay, perhaps,
we could figure it out together.

You know, like, have, like,
a brainstorming session.

- I mean, if that would be helpful for you.
- Okay, thank you for the street nuts.

- Wait. Miguel!
- I have to go!

Wait, no! But wait!

Miguel, wait! You, you forgot your bag!

- What?!
- I... saw a bee on it and I panicked!

How am I supposed to get it back?!

- Well, here, here, here, here.
- Throw, throw mine.

It's the least I can do.

No, the least you can do
is to not throw my bag over!

- Well, the past is the past.
- This is the least I can do now.

I don't...

You know, I used to be just like you.

I was so afraid of breaking the rules.

See, my dad is a coroner,

and I spent my entire childhood
hearing about all the different ways

I was gonna die
or be permanently maimed.

And then one day, I just realized,

you cannot live like that.

So, don't over think it.
Don't even regular think it.

Just.

That was

- oddly satisfying.
- Right?

I can't believe you did that.
My entire life is in that bag.

What do we do now?

Gimme a boost.

Okay, well, what does,
what does that mean?

- You push me up.
- Like, by the butt?

You didn't do a lot of outdoor
playing as a child, did you?

- Okay, I don't need the insults.
- Ready?

- Yeah.
- One, two, three.

- Ooh!
- Ooh, it's harder to get up...

- Right there.
- You gotta...

If I can get the

- first leg up...
- Yeah.

- ...then I can just...
- Okay.

- Yeah.
- If I can get this one...

Maybe we should use the gate.

- Yeah, that works, too.
- Okay. I'm comin' down.

All right.

What is this thing?

There used to be boulders
like this all over the city.

From the last ice age.

Most of 'em are gone, um,
bulldozed to put up high rises.

But...

I don't know.

I always liked this one.

No idea why.

Because it is

truly... truly hideous.

Hey.

I really am sorry.

About the diner.
And also, about earlier.

It's... it's none of my business

why you cried during...
hand stuff three weeks ago.

I think I maybe do know why.

Well, you don't,
you don't have to tell me.

- Seriously.
- I guess I've just lost so much

in my life.

Things and people.

And whenever life seems good, that's,

that's always right before it goes bad.

Like, as soon as you take
that first bite of birthday cake,

it's just... on its way to being gone.

And that night with you, I...

I felt good.

The best I felt in a long time.

Think I realized just...
how bad it would hurt

when it went away again.

Ah!

I'm sorry... I should've...

Are you, like... hungry or something?

- Mm. I'm starving.
- Mmm. Okay.

I'll see what I have.

Let's see. Uh. Oh!

I have, um... expired cookie dough?

- Yum.
- Okay.

Let's see. Turn the... oven on here.

Fifteen minutes to preheat.

Maybe you were right.

About what?

When we ran into each other today.

I don't know
if it was actually a sign, but

whatever it was,

I'm pretty glad it happened.

Well,

it's...

It wasn't, um... exactly a sign

just 'cause I, I was

waiting outside your office
because I wanted to see you.

But don't, don't, don't be mad, okay?

I'm less mad and more flattered.

Yeah.

Because, the thing is,

I'm, uh, I'm actually

- I'm writing a novel.
- Oh.

Yeah, and I have a... character in it

named Mitchell, who's sort of

very casually

based on you.

He's a banker

who mysteriously cries
during a hand-job.

This is... getting less flattering.

No, see, because my teacher,

she loves this character a lot.

And she, she just... she wants to know

everything about him.

She really, really wanted
to know why he cried,

which I'm like, "Who cares?"
You know? But.

Uh...

So, that's why you
wanted to see me today?

You were just using me to get
juicy material for your novel?

Well, well...

- Initially, yeah, but...
- Oh, okay. I see.

But I'm the superficial one.

- Wait, Miguel.
- Yeah. No, I, I...

Just hang on.

- Miguel, just listen to me.
- What I told you today,

- I've never told anyone.
- I'm a writer. Every writer does this.

I mean, you know, nobody thinks that

Hemingway is a jerk
for writing about his real life.

Everyone thinks that!

And this isn't your life, this is my life!

Look, I know that I started
our day under false pretenses,

and I really am sorry,

but... everything that's happened
since then, it's been real.

- And that, I really do think is a sign.
- No!

No, it's not!
And you know how I know?

Because there's no such thing as signs.

What is that smell?!

What is that?

When's the last time you cleaned it?

I've never even used it.

What?! What?! What?! What?!

It's, it's, um, it's, it's, it's rats.

It's, um,

a family of rats, um,

burning to death?

- I think I made eye contact.
- Oh, my God! What do you mean?

- What do you mean, "What do you mean?"
- I can't be any clearer than that!

- Oh, my God! Okay. Oh, my God!
- Do I, do I turn it off?

Or would that just make them suffer more?

Oh, my God, do I turn it up?

- Why are you asking me?!
- 'Cause you saw them!

I mean, did, did it seem like

there was a chance
that they could survive?

Or is it too late?
And, and the humane thing to do

would just be to speed the process up?!

I saw a family of 10 rats! On fire!

- That's as specific as I can be!
- Stop saying that they were a family!

You don't know that! Maybe they just met!

They were all holding each other like,

- like the old couple in Titanic!
- Oh God!

Yeah, I'm gonna backtrack just a smidge.

Since the dawn of time...
there's been exactly one sign.

And this was it.

- I'm gonna go.
- Please wait.

But the good news is, this whole thing,

I'm sure this will make
a great chapter for your novel.

Miguel!

He is out of his mind.

"Ten rats dead by your own hand"
is so much more than a sign.

How do we feel about "portent"?

Shall we take "portent" out for a spin?

Oh, oh. I was hoping
I could sneak a quick read

- before turning the pages over to Gil.
- I, I don't have the chapter.

Oh... If you need an extension?

It's not that, um.

I've decided to put the novel down.

I, I realized that
what happened with Mitchell,

it's... not my story to tell.

- What about the rest of the book?
- Mitchell's just one character.

You said Mitchell was all
you were interested in, I mean...

I was interested
because the author was interested.

It's the same way I feel
when I read any great writer.

I can tell where the passion is.

- You think I'm a great writer?
- Absolutely.

You just need to decide
what story you want to tell.

Returning to the scene of the crime

is a move for successful
criminals, Lindsay.

You got what you wanted, sweetheart.

Your teacher admitted you were
a decently proficient writer.

"Great," Mom. She said I was great.

What are you doing here?

- I don't know. I guess I just...
- thought if I came back here,

maybe there'd be some kind of a s...

- Don't even say it.
- Fine. I... am done with signs.

- Ah, you said the word.
- Well.

Starting tomorrow.

Thank you.

I see you finally came around on signs.

It's not a sign.

It's a 12-color photo realistic
life-size cardboard standee.

Well, I... saw your

12-color life-size
photo realistic cardboard standee

through the window and I took it as a s...

12-color photo realistic

- life-sssize cardboard standee...
- Life-size cardboard standee.

...from the universe

telling me that I should come in here
and say the following to you:

I'm sorry.

Again.

If it makes you feel any better,

I decided to stop... writing the novel.

Why'd you do that?

I need to find my own story.

I did figure out why my... teacher
liked Mitchell so much, though.

Yeah?

She cared about him
because I care about him.

Because I... wanted to spend time with him

and figure out why he knew
so many random facts about

rocks and bridges.

Because I... felt something for Mitchell.

I feel something... for him.

Well...

bridges and rocks are really
just scratching the surface of

useless facts that

Mitchell... knows.

There's roadways.

And there's aqueducts.

He hasn't even broached easements.

Did you ever put us on that wait list?

You mean... the wait list to have sex
in the bathroom at that awful bar?

Mm-hm.

Oh, that's, um...
that's Ski-Slopes Miguel.

That's so I can be
at Chad's bachelor party and...

Right. No, I, I, I got there on my own.

Could you... Maybe you could, um,

- just turn him?
- Yeah, yeah. No, sure.

Thanks.

That's, um... that's Strip-Clubs Miguel.

Strip-Clubs, plural.

- You know, it's a big week for him.
- Okay.