Crisis Hotline

- He's not gonna die, is he?

He's still breathing, right?

Course he is.

Jesus, guys, go easy.

Easy is boring.

No one pays to see easy.

Harold, no.

That is not what this line is for.

I have told you this twice before.

We specialize in helping the LGBT community,

and I can listen if you are suicidal or in crisis

and need someone to talk to, but...

No, I am not judging you,

but this is not a phone sex line.

Good night.

Hi, Simon. - Hi.

Perfect way to end the shift:

a Harold call.

Par for the course.

- You're not allowed to be cynical

after being here for only a week.

I'm not cynical.

I'm just bored.

- You volunteered to be helpful, not entertained.

I've been here for a week

and all I've done is look at my watch

while they whine about how hard it is

to find a nice boyfriend, or that their boss

doesn't appreciate all the hard work they do.

It's complaining.

It sure as hell isn't crisis.

- I don't think it's that simple.

- Maybe not, but I'm still bored.

Well, I gotta hit the road.

Take care.

Make it count.

Always.

Yes, yes, I know.

Most insurance companies don't cover hormone therapy,

and it sucks.

It must be making your transition that much harder.

No, no.

No, you should be protected

from employee discrimination.

But I'm not a lawyer.

Listen, Tamita, this is a crisis hotline,

not a job hotline,

and you're not in a life-threatening crisis.

And I'm only permitted 20 minutes per call.

In fact, if you were in crisis, I'd only have 20 minutes

to save your life.

So, I'm gonna say goodbye.

You can call back tomorrow at this time, if you want.

No, I will not be here.

Thank you.

LGBT crisis hotline, Simon speaking.

I need to know if somebody's on the line

or I have to disconnect.

I'm here.

I need to talk to someone.

- Well, I'm someone who can listen.

What's your name?

Danny.

- Okay, Danny, tell me what's going on with you.

That's complicated.

Can you try and explain it?

I'll explain it.

I have to.

Good.

I'd like that.

- I am taking something right now,

just wanna be up-front.

What are you taking?

Oxys.

You taking OxyContin pills?

How many pills have you taken, Danny?

Enough.

I'll take a lot more after all this,

but I want a favor from you, Simon.

What favor?

Just listen.

Be prepared, before it all ends.

- You sound like you have a plan.

I do, but I need help.

I don't wanna be alone.

I hear you.

You're not alone as long as you're talking to me.

- You promise not to hang up?

I read that you have time limits.

20 minutes or something?

- That's for calls when there isn't a legitimate crisis.

Are you in crisis, Danny?

- We're all in a crisis, Simon.

You know the type:

young, gay tech-nerd who gets convinced

by a recruiter to take a job in Silicone Valley,

thinking the pay was so great,

until you find out what kind of apartment

that pay actually gets you.

Of course, one can only distract themselves

in work and unpacking for so long

before nature wants to take its course.

How old are you, Simon?

Why do you wanna know?

- That's a dodge, which means at least Generation X,

growing up with those John Hughes movies.

I love those.

Makes me wish I grew up in the '80s.

So much simpler.

- We had plenty to worry about in the '80s, believe me.

I'd still trade you.

- Tell me more about how we got here, Danny.

Okay.

You know how this works, Simon.

You're new in town, don't know anyone,

so you load an app.

You upload a picture,

and you start chatting with the first hot guy

that responds to you.

Then you do the whole process

and the usual steps.

The coffee date.

The scary movie date.

The hiking date.

And, of course, all the cute little texting

between the dates.

Finally, we got to the spend-time-alone-over-dinner date.

Hey you, finally here.

Oh, uh, shoes off.

You can put them over there.

- This place is great, so clean and modern.

- Easy to keep clean when you work

from home most of the time.

- You must be the best consultant in Silicone Valley

to afford this.

I sit on the company bus for an hour every day,

work my ass off 'til 5:30,

sit in traffic an hour back,

and even then, all I can afford is a shoebox

with no furniture.

Do you ever feel pressure to rustle up clients?

- Actually, I don't need clients.

I'm lucky that way.

How does that work?

- I just have one client that I work exclusively for.

Well, two, technically.

They're a gay couple who own their own business.

What kind of business?

Websites, mostly.

You'll meet them soon.

We're good friends.

Thanks for dinner.

You don't wanna leave.

Wow.

Mile a minute.

Yeah.

Breathing, shallow.

Mouth...

Dry.

Terrified of what could happen next.

Yes.

Why...

Is...

Danny...

Terrified?

I don't know.

I do.

You're thinking, am I enough?

Yes.

You're perfect.

- I'd never been with anyone in that way,

not like that.

You know what I'm talking about.

I think so.

- Do you remember what that was like,

that first guy who made you feel

like anything was possible?

All of your doubts, insecurities,

that fog of hang-ups, cleared?

It can be very powerful.

And I'd bet anything

that you aren't with that first special guy, are you?

I'm not.

Yeah, thought so.

It's like software.

Eventually, the current rep stops working,

and you're forced to go out

and literally download a new boyfriend.