Gigi Does It

You know, for three weeks now,

I have had an impossible time getting through

to the love of my life, my little ketzele,

my nine-year-old grandson, Christian.

My son and his horrible, Filipino wife

bought Christian a cell phone for Hannukah.

Have you ever?

A nine-year-old with a cell phone?

Before you know it,

he'll be designing malware for the North Koreans.

I call him. I call him, day and night.

He doesn't return a single call.

But, I'll keep trying.

I know he cares about his grandma.

How do I get this to...

How do I get this thing to work?

Oh, I pushed the wrong button.

Oh, how do I go back?

Eh, five-nine-three-eight.

Ooh, it's ringing.

Hey, this is Christian.

Leave a message after the beep.

9-11 was an inside job!

Hello, my little mokuska. It's me, your bubala.

Uh, listen, I know you're busy.

I'm tryin' to give you your space.

I've only called 47 times in the last three weeks

with a zero rate of return.

But, call me. I have something very exciting to tell you.

I met the, uh, the-the singer the other day.

Uh, what's his name?

Uh, oh, Bieber.

Yeah, he took me out to lunch,

and, uh, and we kibitz over a slice of Boston cream pie.

Uh, nice guy.

Uh, jealous much?

I lied... little white lie.

I never met Bieber,

and I don't think I would want to.

He thinks he's black.

You know, all these kids today,

they think they're black...

Especially the black ones.

I made love to Bobby Darin.

He was wild for me. We had mutual friends.

- He was a singer, no? - He was a singer. Yeah, Bobby Darin.

Yeah, "Mac The Knife."

- The knife, yeah. - Yeah.

Have you played this before, Gigi?

Yes, I've played before.

Have you?

Uh, a long time ago, before I had a stroke,

- so I had to ask how to play, again. - Oh, oh, okay.

My husband, Harold, I think he had a stroke.

No one knows what he died of.

Someone told me he died of aggravation

because I aggravated him to death.

Good.

Whatever it takes. - Whatever it takes. That's right.

Whatever it takes to get rid of him.

You know what happened this morning?

What happened?

My grandson, I've been tried to reach him now

- for two weeks. - Ahh.

Two weeks, and every day I leave a message,

and can ya imagine he doesn't call me back?

He's nine years old.

Nine years old? - Yeah.

We used to do so many things together.

And now, he's always on his phone.

I think he's looking at pornography.

He's nine?

- Oh, no. I don't think so. - He's nine years old.

- Nine years old, yes. - No.

Oh, yes, 'cause I caught him once.

He was looking at something and to...

and-and-and, like, grabbin' at his pants.

Ahh. - Oh, my God, that's...

that's a little early.

That's really too much for nine years.

I agree.

His parents don't discipline him.

And I tell them always, "you need to discipline."

He's out of control.

He's a no good little son of a bitch.

- And if he calls me... - Did you call him a son of a bitch?

Well, behind his back... only behind his back.

I would never call him that to his face.

To his face, I call him lovey-dovey pudding and peach.

Lovey-dovey, peach pudding, and pie.

I used to show him my body.

When he was six years old,

I thought it was funny to show him.

- Your boobs. - To expose the boobs.

Yeah, to show him my boobs.

You never did that with your grandchildren?

- No. - No.

No?

We had a funny relationship.

I like to shock him,

but now he shocks me with his behavior is disgusting.

- You know, I send him cards. - Yeah.

And he never gets back to me.

He never... he never, uh, sends a card to me.

That... that's not something kids relate to these days.

- They don't send cards anymore? - No.

I used to send cards to my grand...

No, they send cards. They-they text message.

- You've gotta learn how to text. - I know.

I do learn how to te... I try to learn how to text,

and it-it makes me so upset because this...

- You have an old... yeah. - Machine, uh, it's a machine.

You need an upgraded phone.

You're telling me this is not a good phone?

Yeah, that's an antiquated phone.

- That's old. - Yeah.

Ricky can teach you how.

Yeah, I can show you. He-he won't show me anything.

But, this one's a good one. - I'll show you on this one, too.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, show me.

So, it's just message, and then you go new message.

Message and new message. Yeah, and see, T-X-T means text.

So, you're gonna click that.

And then, you see Christian's number?

So, I go message, T-5-T.

See? No, T-X-T.

There's just no "E."

- They shorten everything in text messages. - Okay.

There it is, Christian.

Okay, write a message for me.

What do you want me to say?

You owe me a call. Call me back.

It's been weeks since we've spoken.

I don't understand what the hell's the matter with you.

He can't write all that. That's too much.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

That's too much? - Especially with that keypad.

Say-say what the hell's the matter with ya?

If you were here, I'd choke you.

- No. - No, no, no, no, no.

No, that's...

I used to read books to Christian.

Not just children's books, all sorts of books...

Mysteries, classical dramas, romance novels.

His face would light up with every plot twist.

I once read him a romance novel,

uh, and he was so caught up in the throws of the female protagonist,

uh, that he cried when her head was shaved,

and she was choked to death by her cruel husband.

Oh, how he hung on my every word.

So, I know exactly what I have to do.

I have to write something profound,

something that will turn Christian's cold heart warm again.

Something that will get him to stop yanking his little schmekel

and call his damn grandma!

Oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh.

Now, where-where?

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Christian?

Oh.

Yes. Hello. Who is this?

Yeah, I was napping. Who is this?

Your name is Parvesh?

What are ya selling? I don't want it.

I don't want the plan. No, I'm happy with my plan.

Where you calling from?

Mumbai? Isn't it late over there?

What do you eat? Are you eating something?

I hear you chewing.

You're eating sag pania?

What is sag pania?

That sounds horrible.

No, don't eat that.

Hello?

He hung up on me.

Son of a bitch.

This is Christian.

Follow me on Twitter @kingminus06.

9/11 was an inside job.

Listen to me, you little bastard.

You call me back.

I used to wipe your little schmekel

with the same parchment paper

I used to bake your snickerdoodles.

You'd be nothing without me.

Now, call me back,

or I'm gonna tell all your little friends

about how you love to sway with me to Perry Como.

Perry Como, bitch!

Shit, I just called my grandson a bitch.

I just can't quite get

to the heart of the story I'm trying to tell.

It's time that I meet with a professional,

experienced, responsible adult, a grown man,

who writes children's books.

- Hi, I'm Jonathan Karnoff. - Yes, Mr. Karnoff, I've heard so much about you.

Thank you so much.

Oh, boy, do I have an idea for you.

I am a child at your knee.

- Tell me your story. - I'm sorry?