Anesthesia

You're late tonight, sir.

- In all the years coming here, I've never told you my name.

It's Walter.

It would make me so happy if you called me that

Walter.

Ignacio.

Good evening.

- The allure of that never fades, I'm happy to report.

Couple of bunches of hydrangeas?

You got it.

- Yeah, your dog is cute. - Very cute.

Hey, gentlemen, how you doing tonight?

Can you help out a Marine Corps veteran get something to eat?

I did eight months straight in Fallujah, man.

Just trying to stay warm like you.

- Yo, mister, let me get 50¢, man.

I'll get you a cup of coffee.

I want 50¢.

Sorry.

Maybe you should let these young ladies get their dog.

Have a good night, Walter.

Good night, Ignacio.

You've got to be kidding me.

- Just ignore it. - That is not in my nature.

- Yes? - Help me!

- Sam? - No, it might be a trick.

- Who is this? - What's happening?

- Help me! - I'm buzzing you in.

Get down there, I'm gonna call 911.

- Not a chance. - Then I'm going.

- Okay, okay, okay, all right, fine.

What is that?

Oh, hell.

Senseless.

Perfectly senseless.

My wife.

- Call 911! - I already did.

Jesus.

- It's okay, the ambulance is on its way.

Just hang in there.

- Make sure she gets this. - Jesus!

Her name is Marcia.

- Shit, there's another guy out here!

Don't let go.

I'm here.

I was just...

A thinker who predates Darwin and dares suggest

that an objective analysis of what it is

to live as a human,

a thinking, sentient being

whose sole trajectory is toward the grave,

particularly once children have been reared,

would have us perhaps choose

not to be born at all.

Imagine that.

Better not to live than to live and suffer.

But Eros seduces us not only into striving

for the falsely ethereal, but worse,

propagating.

And thereby subjecting another generation

to the same suffering we endure.

In short,

to love and reproduce

is at some level a sinister enterprise

because we deposit offspring into such a shitty world.

Any way you look at it,

grim stuff.

So...

Friday then.

Just ten years ago, I was certain the answer was no.

The Greeks had it right.

We're just atoms.

But who knows?

In your lifetime, not mine, thank goodness,

we'll perhaps become immortal.

You believe in that stuff?

Our thoughts anyway.

Measurable in bits.

Everything reducible to two symbols or their absence.

I used to believe in nothing.

New I believe in everything.

My problem is how all this degrades our appetite

to keep asking what it could all mean.

Jill might have cancer.

Might?

- A lesion on one of her ovaries.

Does your mother know?

We're not telling her yet.

This puts me in a very odd-

- Dad. is that really gonna be your response?

Of course not, Adam.

What can we do?

- She doesn't want me telling anyone, so...

this conversation is-

it's nothing personal, she just doesn't want people-

No need to explain.

I just...

I'm here, Adam.

Always.

- Oh, my God. - She didn't.

That's amazing.

On.

- I told her, but she's like, "You promised me,"

so I'm hosed.

What-what if I need that?

- What? - The chair.

- Oh, sorry. - Uh, hold on a second.

Dude, how many tickets do you have?

Fuck you. No way.

- Excuse me. - Hold on.

I said hold on.

Can I just have this chair

until whoever you're waiting for gets here?

- I didn't say that I was waiting for anyone.

Okay, I get it.

Excuse me, may I please have this chair?

- Why didn't you just ask in the first place?

- Dude, just buy the ticket and I'll deal.

No, I don't want pay for two.

I need this chair and you clearly don't.

- Who are you to determine what I need?

- All right, you keep your fucking chair.

It's the only empty seat in here,

but you could stare at it while you're killing fucking trees.

- My book is used. - Yeah?

Well, you're a selfish, lonely bitch.

- Whoa. - Whoa.

Dude.

- He already knows his multiplication tables.

- The thing about Bobby is he's an auditory learner

more than a visual one.

Come on, Marta.

You're really gonna choose now

to talk about your precious little Bobby?

There's a line!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Did you honk at me, Sarah?

I did, Marta.

Un-fucking-believable.

And what if I needed to speak to Joan?

You could email her.

- Maybe I need to speak with her in person

because my son is having trouble.

- Hire a tutor like the rest of us.

- How do I know what to say to the tutor

if I can't speak to his teacher?

Which brings us back to email.

I learn more in person.

Inflections.

Like I'm learning what a shrew you are right now.

Shrew?

- I wouldn't get the full effect in written text.

Did you just say shrew?

Fuck off, Jane!

Marta,

why don't you email me?

Imagine that.

You're a cunt, Sarah.

Honk at me again and I'll deck you.

Just get me to 5:00.

Hi, Mommy.

- Hey! - Here you go, Angie.

You do the math yet?

No, I'll just ask Hal.

Because he's a fucking genius.

Hal, I can't figure out this- Jesus!

- Get the fuck out! - Look your door.

- I said get out. - This is why we have locks.

- Really? - Are you seriously still here?

- Help me with this problem, sicko.

- Call one of your- - I did.

None of them have done it.

- None of them has done it. - Eat me.

- Incest is taboo. - Give me.

Not with your jizz hands.

"Find the ratio of radius to circumference"-

- It should never deviate. It's pi r to pi r squared.

Oh, right.

That's so easy.

Have you and Amy ever...

I mean, have you guys...

I wish.

- There's always Holocaust literature.

- Fuck you. - I wasn't even-

- Wailing away reading about the six million?

- We will pursue this no further.

What about you?

- I would have with Lucas, but he never tried,

and I didn't want to come off like a slut.

Idiot.

Me or Lucas?

Both.

- You think I should have lost it to that douche bag?

He is a douche bag.

Thanks for telling me.

- I hate all the guys who want to fuck you.

- I just said he didn't want to fuck me.

Did you blow him?

Has Amy blown you?

I asked you first.