The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

- There it is. - Every last piece.

- The couch. - Your dining room chairs.

- The TV. - Your orgy lamps.

Orgy lamps?

These are not orgy lamps.

Well, what are those people on them doing?

They're... Well, she's a teacher,

and these are her nubile pupils, and...

- This is dirty. - Yeah.

Like, what is she teaching them? French?

Well, they're pretty, and I still like them.

What are you thinking, Antonio?

It's gonna take us a while to unload everything, Mrs. Maisel.

Great. I've got a few errands to run. Take over, Imogene?

Will do.

All right, guys, get to work!

Sorry. I get bossy. Sorry.

Be safe, guys.

Careful with the orgy lamps.

Oil's tough, but I'll see what I can do, Mrs. Marshall.

You're the best, Herman. Have a good day.

Herman.

- Mrs. Maisel. - How's things? How's Marilyn?

Just celebrated our 30-year anniversary.

Mazel tov. I'm back in the neighborhood,

and there's mountains of cleaning heading your way.

I'll turn 'em around for you nice and quick.

- And my tab's still good? - Uh, of course.

- What was it, 15 bucks? - Something like that.

But I thought you'd give me a higher limit on that tab.

- A higher limit? - Like, say, 30 bucks?

See, I haven't washed a thing since I left you.

There's so much business coming your way,

a higher tab would be convenient

for you and me. Know what I mean?

I think I can make that work.

You're a doll.

Gonna give one of these to everyone I know.

- Marketing, Herman. - Thanks, Mrs. Maisel.

And 63 cents is your change. Thank you. Come again.

- Eli. - Mrs. Maisel.

You still have the best buns in town?

I like to think. You back in the neighborhood?

As of today. And ready to restart that tab of mine.

Sure. What was it, uh, ten?

Back in the day. But I'm thinking double that now.

- Double? - Or triple. You should see how my kids eat.

Well, you should know, what with six.

So a higher tab's a real convenience. For you and for me.

- I guess. - You know Herman the dry cleaner?

Practically begged me to raise my tab. He was a little pushy.

- I'll see what I can do. - You're a doll.

If I don't come home with a couple of these,

those damn kids'll eat me. Put 'em on my tab?

- You got it. - Gonna give one of these

to everyone I know. Marketing, Eli!

Thanks, Mrs. Maisel.

Johann.

New uniform, huh?

You should have heard the dry cleaner and the baker

practically begging me to raise my tab.

- Grown men, begging. - That's something.

Not for nothing, but a higher tab

benefits you more than me.

I'll have to check with the office.

Tell them about Herman and Eli?

Here's their cards if your boss wants to chat.

- Sure thing, Mrs. Maisel. - You're a doll, Johann.

- Randy. - Hey, Mrs. Maisel.

Who's got the best melons around?

- I do. - I'm insulted.

Listen, I'm back in the neighborhood,

- and I want to talk about my tab. - Your tab?

You ever see a milkman beg, Walter?

No, I'm serious.

He was begging me to raise my tab.

Kept talking about how it benefits him more than me.

- Ha! - Not there. Somewhere else. - But it's kitchen stuff.

- I'm organizing, Antonio. This is my process. - Walter, I'm a woman. I don't

- have a mind for business. Ask the milkman. - Leave me to my process.

Be nicer, Imogene. We like Antonio.

Sorry. It's my Nordic grandmother.

- I inherited her chilly rage. - Yes, but what with him

and the baker and the grocer and the dry cleaner

all raising my tab like that,

it just makes sense to let you in on the deal.

I mean, I'd hate to switch pharmacies.

Twenty-five is great. And I'm gonna tell everyone

you are the best drug dealer in the neighborhood.

Uh, you know what I mean.

Marketing, Walter. Bye.

Oh, the bastard put up a fight.

- What are you doing? - Solving my cash flow problem.

Last week, I dealt with Moishe.

Had to get him to agree to delay the loan payment on this place.

Brought Esther.

- Uh-oh. - Held her in my lap,

barefoot, a little dirty,

holding her one-armed doll.

- You didn't. - I talked about her needing new shoes.

I couldn't tear up, but then Esther cried right on cue.

I may have given her a pinch.

- Shameless. - But it worked.

And now if I can just hold off paying the milk bill,

the laundry bill, the grocery bill,

the butcher bill, the bakery bill

and the pharmacy bill for just a few months,

I can possibly catch up.

Hello, old friend.

Your place of honor awaits.

Oh, this shelf is complete.

Oh, come with me.

I need an opinion.

What do you think?

Is this cubist or...?

No, seriously. What do you think?

Seriously, it's insane.

At first glance, yes.

But hear me out. Ouch.

- Midge. - Okay.

Old place, new life. Right?

- Sure. - New vistas. Interior vistas.

- Okay. - Now, clearly, the living room couch

has to go where it goes. Can't make a change there.

- It was built for that room. - Yep.

And the TV has to go across from the couch.

- Et cetera, et cetera. - I agree.

The kitchen's the kitchen.

Can't do anything with the foyer.

Where can I create something new in my apartment?

Something splashy. Something that's just me.

Bedroom.

Ow!

Maybe you shouldn't...

- Give me a second. - ...move.

Who says it has to be arranged

exactly the way Joel and I had it even though it made sense.

Joel and I made sense,

and we all know how that ended up.

I want to walk into this bedroom

and feel like this is my bedroom.

I don't want to feel like this is where Joel and I

kind of often... you know.

- I know. - Plus, he dumped me here.

He stood right there. I stood here.

Now it's all different,

because where he stood when he dumped me is now

where the dresser is, and where I stood

when he dumped me is where part of the bed is,

which is a great comfort to me.

So...

what do you think?

I think you should put it back the way it was

because this is clinically insane.

Imogene, I was hurt here.

I know, twice. Shin, toe.

- By Joel. - I know.

But put it all back exactly the way it was.

Nice and pretty. And the new thing?

Now when you're here, you're alone.

And you get both closets.

No. I'm gonna live with this for a while

and see how it feels.

Shit-fuck.

How'd that feel?

I've got to go call the butcher.

Okay. Oh!

Don't get your knickers in a twist, Jerry.

- Village Voice. Hello. - My sources are good.

- Sanitation's going out. - Garbagemen

- are not going on strike. - Says who?

Me. I just said it. Sudden astigmatism, Jerry?

- I stand corrected. I'm a piece of shit. - When are they gonna

- empty the garbage here? - And that relates how?

- It's still about sanitation. - Kev is right.

Bernie threw half an avocado out last week,

and it's still sitting there.

Abe Weissman! There you are.

I'm sorry, am I late? I-I was told

- the meeting started at 10:00. - You are not late.

Three of us slept here last night,

two of us not because their wives

- kicked them out. - She didn't kick me out.

She just wouldn't let me in.

And when we woke up, the meeting informally commenced.

Everyone, this is the notorious Abe Weissman,

- the Terror of Broadway. And now our Terror. - Good morning.

- Hi, Abe. - How you doing, Abe? - Good to see you.

You know your arts editor, Terrence.

Bernie's news. Jerry's city desk.

Leonard's opinion, and he occasionally has one.

- Our photographer, Kal-El, from the planet Krypton. - I made the mistake

of showing them my collection of Superman comics.

It's Gilbert.

Jules is our doodler,

and Kev... What are you again?

- Fuck you. - Our resident poet.

And that is the masthead in the flesh.

Sit, sit.

Is this smoke bothering you, Abe?