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