that. I told you about that girl hadley in my dorm sophomore year, the one who threw herself off the library balcony. These are the exact kind of things she was saying. I don't mean to get you all upset... Of course not. I'm glad you said something. Good night. - Good night, sweetie. - Get some sleep. I'm just a guy looking to punch you in the mouth. Oh, you can take a punch. I guess we knew that already, didn't we? You can actually land a punch, too. - You're pretty good... - Thanks. ... against a 36-year-old out-of-shape lieutenant. I came here today to tell you in all seriousness that I'm done. I did what you said. I gave it a lot of thought, and I decided that once and for all, it's over. The truth is this therapy is a jerk-off. You know it, and I know it. I actually don't know it, but please continue. - It's a jerk-off. - Yes, you've said that. Anyway, I was coming here to quit. Had it all planned out. But guess what. My son is talking suicide. So now I'm trapped here forever. My god, what did he say? His girlfriend, fiancee, whatever... She broke up with him. He's beyond devastated. Would you like me to recommend someone for him to talk to? Carmela's getting a referral from his own pediatrician. Oh. After that incompetent you sent Meadow to? So I suppose now comes the inherent fucking grilling - about how I feel about all this. - Isn't that why you're here? Friends of mine, they got sons his age, and they're happy, ambitious. They fucking take life as it comes. I know it seems that way, but do you really know these other boys? I know what I see, my son curled up on the couch in a fetus position when he should be out banging coeds. - Have you talked to him? - Till I'm blue in the face. We both have, and now we're afraid to talk to him because of what he might do. Obviously, I'm prone to depression... A certain bleak attitude about the world, but I know I can handle it. Your kids, though... It's like when they're little, and they get sick, you'd give anything in the world to trade places with them, so they don't have to suffer. And then to think you're the cause of it. How are you the cause of it? It's in his blood, this miserable fucking existence. My rotten fucking putrid genes have infected kid's soul. That's my gift to my son. I know this is difficult. But I'm very glad we're having this discussion. Really, really? 'Cause I gotta be honest. I think it fucking sucks. - What does? - Therapy, this. I hate this fucking shit! Seriously, we're both adults here, right? So after all is said and done, after all the complaining and the crying and all the fucking bullshit, is this all there is? Yes, welcome. Hi, I'm Chris. I'm an alcoholic and drug addict. Hi, chris. I want to go back to what Stan said... How not being able to socialize is hard when you're a salesman. In my case, it's the same thing. It's actually taking food out of my daughter mouth. My boss, for all his bullshit encouragement, how he respects what I'm doing, the reality is he resents my sobriety. I had the same thing at Unicor. They were all onboard for the intervention, but skip one golf outing, and you're ostracized. He's an enabler, too, this guy, the worst fucking kind. Pours you a drink with one hand, judges you with the other if you take it. And he wonders why I'm distant... At least he says he does... Why I wanna branch out into other things. But I can promise you I'd have more money in my pocket, plus more responsibility if I sat with him drinking, watching that scotch drool out of his fat fucking mouth. ... embedded that dream into our culture... Hey. What are you watching? Nothing. Oh, whoa, that's a good one. John Wayne. Two Jasons call you? Invite you to a party tomorrow night? I don't know. Well, either they did or
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