Cupid

It's quinoa, Joan.

I know it looks like the inside of a beanie baby but it's a jammed with protein.

I finish my counseling sessions for the day and I'm not doing anything tonight...

if you need an extra hand in the kitchen.

I'm not sure how I feel about asking...

our volunteer psychiatrist to peel potatoes.

Trevor, what are you doing here?

What happened to your romantic evening with Kevin...

before he goes to Africa?

- He's getting on a plane in three hours. - Who is Kevin?

Kevin Kevin. You know, Kevin.

Humanitarian Kevin? Such a David ass Kevin?

Look, he's at the phone razor, at the museum, eight blocks away.

Which is where you should be. Then he's getting in a car...

and he's going to the airport. We only got like twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes for what?

I mean, how you two even know each...

- You've got to be kidding me. - Can we just got like in an hour?

- I'm on a ticking clock here. - I brought Riley to one singles group.

I even made sure she didn't sit near you.

I thought that the not matching my friends rule was a given.

I can't do it.

- Drag her out, Trevor. - He wants you to go to Africa with him.

He wants me to go with him?

Look, Riley, I know you have been burned before,

but I'm telling you, this guy is the real deal.

Okay.

Okay, maybe we should take a deep breath...

and just think about this for a minute.

Are you sure you want to run off to Africa with some guy?

Well, it' just a week, and he's not some guy.

He's an international relief worker.

I am surprised the guy hasn't been knighted.

Trevor met him at Tres Equis, and knew we'll hit it off.

- It's been these three weeks whirlwind. - Three weeks?

I never even heard you mention him.

Because every time I bring up my love life...

you point out that I am reenacting a code pending...

relationship with a narcissistic father figure...

or exposing deep seated trust issues.

That does sounds like you.

It's like trying to go to dinner with your weight watcher group's leader.

Which is why you don't have girlfriends.

Claire has girlfriends. I'm one of them.

Sometimes, though, I just need someone supportive...

more than I need expert advice.

Come with us. I want you to meet him.

Go! Go! Go! Go!

You are here.

I was worried I was just the work to you.

Anything but.

Behold my divine handy work.

What the hell...?

Who are you?

Nick Kazarian, Bowery Investigations.

Congratulations, Mr. Collier. You have just had your picture taken...

by the best P.I in the tri-state area.

Your wife hired me two weeks ago.

Call me all the way from London.

Guess this isn't the first time this happens. Cheerio!

Remind me again. You believe you are the God of what?

Subtítulos por: CupidTeam

Traductores: aremsi, iris_alicante, Seta, Syd15 y Virum.

Revisor: Syd15

How could you do that? It's completely irresponsible!

How can you not see how horrible I feel?

I couldn't feel worse if I were impaled on something.

- Well, I say let test that theory. - I know this is going to come as a shock.

The other people in the world were not you, make mistakes.

If you stop and think, even for a millisecond...

I did post to think this time, which I never do.

Now, something felt a little... wonky.

- Wonky? - Yeah. You know, looks so good on paper.

Still, you know what? Lesson learned, obey the gods.

That is not the lesson. The lesson is to stop interfering.

Can you get a room already? God!

Fighting is another sign of attraction, you know?

She talks about it in her book.

Well, actually, that's a simplification. What I say...

Claire, I have just been romantically bitch slapped.

And now there are pictures of me making out with a married man.

Out there, in the world.

Saint Kevin...

He already offered me quadruple for the photos and I turned him down.

We were hoping to explain the situation. You maybe you can help us out.

Yes, I am not really what you call a helper.

My friend is an innocent bystander. She didn't know Kevin was married.

Well, I figured this much, but maybe she should've done a little less hand holding...

and a little more ring finger checking.

The guy has a tell-tell tan line.

When did you see us holding hands?

Well, his wife hired me two weeks ago.

I got to hand it to you though, no money shoot until tonight.

You knew I had no idea he was married...

and you just you watch me get real then?

- You could have given me a heads up. - What did you think that I was? I mean,

you think I'm going to get a habit of introducing myself to people I'm photographing?

Oh, so you wait until you got your money shoot to be a decent human being.

What are we girlfriends?

It's not really nature in my job to protect the mistress.

Oh, I was just doing my job.

Is that what you tell yourself when you try to sleep at night?

No, to get to sleep I use the same tools every other P.I. use.

Bourbon and phone sex. Now that you mention it...

"I was just doing my job", is the last thing I hear...

- ... before I noing off. - That is repulsive.

Really? Great. Cause that means you're leaving.

God, did you get beat up like every day in high school?

I swear the second your mouth opens my fist clench. Oh, my God.

Shouldn't you go role your little anger ball to the guy who actually screwed you.

Yeah, I don't know what the hell an anger ball is but I want to throw it to you.

Look, it doesn't matter if I give you the photos.

I already sent the JPEGs to your boyfriend's wife.

Well, I am glad you didn't waste any time.

Actually this, right here... huge waste of time.

Can you two get a room already?

If he's already mailed the pictures, then we're done here.

Well, unless the two of you are enjoying yourself.

You know, my dad proposed to my mom at a Yankees game.

How much would you take for this?

I thought you throwing your parents a party was the anniversary gift.

Yeah, but I feel like I got to give them something on top of that.

- It's the 40th. - 40th it's the Rubies not baseball.

You know, I can't believe you parents have been...

happily paired up for 40 years, yet you look like a monk.

- Yes, I'm saving myself for someone special. - Hello? Can I get a drink?

Sorry. Normally our lovely,

advicious and vindictive cocktail waitress,

is handling table services.

And here I thought that I was special.

Special, huh?

You know what?

I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but notice that you're not wearing a ring.

Now, am I being so bold? What's your taste in men?

Less bold.

Perfect.

No thinking, just matching. No thinking, just matching.

Hey, boss.

The woman at table nine says she wants to speak to the owner.

Hi. What can I do for you?

Can you turn into a dry Martini and take a sit right here?

Excuse me?

I'd like a dry Martini, up with a twist.

I'm sorry. I thought you wanted to see the owner.

I wanted to see someone to get me a drink.

If it has to be you,

I could probably find a way to deal with that.

Is that a vodka Martini or...

Hey.

I want my base ball.

It's Thurman Munson's base ball.

He wrote his name on it.

Okay.

The P.I. tracked me down.

Well, you were wearing the name of the bar on your shirt yesterday...

so clearly, you wanted to see me.

I happened to notice your screensaver.

Those were some lovingly shoot images of Riley.

So I don't meet that many sexy social workers in my line of work.

Then I say embrace your good fortune.

You two had a real spark.

Look, I make my living chronicling the disintegration of happily ever after.

Monogamy is seal,

love never lasts...

and marriage is an archaic institution...

doomed to failure.

You have a nice day.

Wait.

Does that mean you are opposed to doing a girl a favor?

I'm sorry you didn't feel you could talk to me about Kevin.

The sad thing is it wouldn't matter if I did.

The only difference could have been you saying, "I told you so.”

- Thank you for staying for dinner. - I don't want to say I told you so.

I just want to be a friend...

a normal non-relationship expert friend,

who you can do regular girlfriend stuff with.

We've been talking about getting together outside the center and we never do.

Yeah, I guess we never did take those neat dance classes, did we?

Or train for that half marathon, which we could still do.

What do you say? Tomorrow morning, 6:00 a.m.?

We can even start from your place.

Okay, but we're making a pact to not talk about men.

Done. D-O-N-E.

This is the Polish. This is the Russian.

Okay, taste the Russian.

- Are you trying to get me drunk? - Oh, come on. It's barely a sip.

I am doing it too, and I'm working.

That's the same one I just tasted.

Okay.

You can taste the difference...

between top-shelf Vodka and a cheap stuff.

I apologize for ever doubting you.

So what brought you to my fine establishment?

I'm meeting my son here.

He's dating someone new and he wants me to meet her.

No way you have a legal age son.

See for yourself.

It's my sister.

- Celia, can you check on John on the back. - Okay.

You! I sure hope you have a semi parked up front...