01x05 - Labels

[bunniefuu]

Wow. You just got dumped by someone
who you weren't even dating, Linds.

Let's take a second to think about that.
It's pretty impressive.

I just don't get it. Wh...

Everything was going so well.

In hindsight, maybe
a mistake to rub his nose

in the fact that you
cavorted with another man

like a common street wh*re.

Jesus Christ, Mom.

You know, he went home
with somebody else, too.

Excuse me.

He fornicated with one
other partner that he admitted to.

Who knows the real total?

That's why I recommend
a comprehensive venereal panel

as soon as possible.

Why do I even care, you know?

The whole point of this
was that it was supposed to be casual.

Because you love him, Lindsay.

You've loved him from the moment
his tears fell on those

blotchy, under-moisturized
cheeks of yours.

- Okay.
- Maybe I... like him. A little.

- Finally, she admits it.
- It's like pulling teeth.

Hey.

Remind me, b*tch. Why are you here?

Oh no, Lindsay, not her.

Did you seriously come
all the way to New York City

to find a cute little boyfriend?

Some cubicle-dwelling dweeb
you could snuggle up with

to watch Party of Five?

There's no need to drag
the Salinger siblings into this.

'Cause I thought you
came here to find you.

To meet bad boys,
and make bad decisions,

and end up in terrifying situations.

Maybe not... terrifying, but.

- Okay. Lindsay?
- You don't know this person.

She said a mean thing
to you once about a beverage...

...and it's become an obsession.

You don't even know her name.

Oh yeah? Well, I know her soul.

- Oh, for God's s...
- Uck!

- Yuck, Linds.
- The soul is a myth.

You know, I used to see you at parties,

and you would just be
sitting there in the corner just

reading Anaïs Nin, and smoking cloves,

and glaring at everybody.

Y-You didn't care what anyone thought.

And that's all I did was care.

- That's a good thing.
- Look, b*tch.

It's simple, okay?

Miguel is over.

Miguel and his nine-to-five,

Brooks Brothers slow march to the grave,

which means you have a choice to make.

- You look insane.
- Thank you!

This was all my idea, you know?

Chad told me The Great Gatsby's
Rachel's favorite book.

I said, "Dude, do a Gatsby-themed
rehearsal dinner at your parents' place"

- "in Bridgehampton. She'll freak."
- Nice.

And guess what? She freaked.

- Wow.
- Yup.

Oop, there they are... The happy couple.

I hear they tried to f*ck you.

Uh, you know, I'm getting pretty close
with Squez, the juice company,

and I think there
might be some legs there.

Yeah, well, you ought a
talk to d*ck about it.

Because d*ck Waltham wants
to hear about an eight-figure deal

from a second-year analyst?

Ugh, Jimmy. Jimmy, Jimmy.

This weekend?

That man is not the CFO
of Winnicott Douglass.

He's just Chad's dad, father of the groom.

And you are not a second-year analyst.

You are his son's close friend
and trusted colleague.

Could you introduce us?

I could.

But if you really wanna
impress the old man,

you'll nut up and do it yourself.

This is it.

You are not gonna allow anything
to stand in your way this weekend.

You march up to that old f*ck right now

- and tell him that...
- Hey... I know that chick.

Random Lindsay.

Miguel.

What are you doing here?

- There goes the f*ck' weekend.
- This as*h*le again? Really?

I'm here for the wedding.

For Charles's wedding?

- You mean Chad?
- I don't know.

Derek just said it was
his cousin, Charles.

Who's Derek?

- Hey.
- Oh, f*ck. He's huge.

This is, um, Derek.

- Derek, this is Miguel.
- I'm, I'm Miguel. Nice to meet you.

How long have, uh, you two been dating?

- No, we're not dating.
- We don't do labels.

Yeah... labels are for grocery stores.

For items... that need labeling.

God, you're amazing.

Wow, cool. Where are your costumes?

Like we're gonna dress up
for a f*cking costume party.

- Stop thinking about her.
- I'm not thinking about her.

- Oh, oh, I see another brown person.
- You're not the only... Nope. Waiter.

I'm not gonna feel weird about that.

- You already feel weird about that.
- Okay, stop. Look, he belongs here.

Hey... you belong here, buddy.

What?

Oh! There he is. Look alive.

Jimmy Jam-A-Rooney.

- Ah, f*ck.
- How goes it? So good to see you, bud.

- Hey, Chris.
- Heard about your juice biz.

I think I may have found a client, too.
Nothing as cool as juice, obviously.

My dad's best friend runs Pringles?
Do you know Pringles?

This Machiavellian m*therf*cker!

- Yeah, Chris, I-I've heard of Pringles.
- Yeah... They're pretty tasty.

You changed.

I... just threw this together.

- Where's your boyfriend?
- He's not my boyfriend.

Right. No, I forgot. No labels.

Like a... grocery store.

He decided to stay in the room
and work on his writing.

- He's an amazing writer.
- Hey!

Who wants to dance
with my beautiful fiancée, huh?

Oh. Oh, I see someone.

Uh, do you wanna maybe?

Okay, sure.

He's brilliant.

He just had his second piece
published in the Village Voice.

About the new politics of grammar.

Oh... wow.

See, I'm not even caught up
on the old politics... so.

You know, you were the one
that said that you wanted to be friends,

but you didn't, by the way,

'cause I called you several times
to hang out and... I left messages.

Guess I just assumed
you didn't really wanna see me.

- Well, I did.
- Oh yeah!

Random Lindsay and Jimmy.
Old school, baby.

Do you think any of them
actually know your name?

Honestly, it's anyone's guess.

- I'm here. 'Sup.
- Hey.

Hey. D-Money has arrived.

Someone forgot their 1920s attire.

I am 1920s. I'm a vagrant.

- Have fun.
- See ya, man.

You wanna dance?

No.

You look beautiful.

He's just been an absolute standout

from the second he started.

- Last quarter, especially.
- Thank you.

Anyway, we're so thrilled
you could make it out.

- Talk to you a little bit later.
- Thank you.

Mr. Waltham.

Um, Miguel Jimenez, sir.
Second-year analyst.

I'm actually a friend of Chad's
and colleague, a trusted colleague.

Pleasure to meet you.

Um,

I don't mean to talk business
on an occasion like this,

but I just had to tell you...

I know it's usually a three-year track
from analyst to associate, but, um,

I'm ready now.

How do you figure that?

I'm better than any other
analyst you have.

And...

I'm on the cusp of securing a major deal

with an up-and-coming juice company.

Nantucket Nectars reported
$80 million in sales last year.

Snapple?

Had almost 800.

The company I'm talking with,

I firmly believe,

has the potential
to compete with both of 'em.

- Find me later.
- We'll talk after dinner.

Sounds good.

- Beef medallions?
- This evening could not be more grotesque.

Yeah. I-I didn't even know they
were doing rehearsal dinners anymore.

It's, like, what is it, 1973?

Huh, exactly.

How's your children's book?

You said you were gonna
maybe start working on one?

I-I had an idea once that maybe
I would write a, a children's book.

I thought you said you were writing
an existential horror story

about the monstrosity of nature?

Yeah.

As a children's book.

Mmm, what do you do, Miguel?

I work with Chad,
actually, at Winnicott.

I'm sorry.

Oh, it's just banking, you know, it's...

I mean... you've seen
what it's done to my family.

I guess... not everyone can afford
to be a writer for the Village Voice.

Well,

cultural critic and predatory capitalist

aren't the only extant
career paths available.

Where is it you bank, Derek?

I don't have that kinda money.

No, sorry, I meant your trust fund.

- He doesn't have a trust fund.
- N... Well, no, no, no. It's...

Look, my, my parents set one up for me,

but, uh... yeah, I don't control it.

- No, right. You just use it to...
- fund your writerly lifestyle.

You have any cocaine here?

Somewhere in the house?

- Hm.
- Gentlemen, we're, uh,

headed to the cabin for some cigars.

You in?

d*ck asked to make sure
you were there, Jimmy.

Then I guess I have
to be there, don't I?

- Hey, wait, I'm sorry.
- So, is your name Miguel or is it Jimmy?

- That's just a nickname.
- It's because of his last name:

Gym-en-ez.

Um, so then wouldn't it
be pronounced "Jimenez"?

It, it doesn't matter, all right?

- Cigars.
- No, it does matter, though,

because this guy right here
is actually being pretty r*cist.

- Derek, I-I don't think it's right...
- Is it, is it r*cist?

- Am, am I, am I r*cist?
- N-No. No, you're not...

- Yeah, bro, very r*cist.
- I'm sorry, Miguel.

Man, if I were you,
I'd be standing up for myself.

What he's doing, it's not right.

You actually have no idea
what you're talkin' about,

so why don't you
just shut the f*ck up, Derek?

Whoa.

Everything okay here?

Yeah... Yeah, no, everything's,
um, everything's fine.

We're heading over to the cabin.

Right?

Maybe you should take a walk instead.

Cool down.

Walk with me.

Hey... I was just tryna help.

Miguel.

Miguel... Miguel, will you stop?

Look, I'm sorry for what
happened in there, okay?

- No, I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry your boyfriend's an as*h*le.

He's not my boyfriend.

What happened to you?

Because the Lindsay I knew
was excited about everything.

In love with everything.

This is who I've always been.

This is exactly the person
that I've always wanted to be.

- Wow. Congratulations, then.
- That must be really nice.

You don't get to dump me

and then just show up
three months later and start...

Dump you?

You were the one who didn't
even wanna be in a relationship.

- You wanted casual.
- No, you said you wanted casual.

Because I knew that's
what you wanted me to say.

You said that you wanted
to be friends. You ended it.

I ended things because I was terrified
I was falling in love with you!

That's when I thought I knew you.

And this person now? I don't know her.

I don't know her at all.

Were you really falling in love with me?

I have to go.

- Why did I say that?
- She tricked you. Again.

Just like with the crying.

You need to focus the f*ck up.

Get your head outta your a*s
and back in the game.

Let's go find that cabin,
you walk in, you drop to your knees,

- and you grovel.
- Are you joking? It is too late for that.

You did the only thing, the one thing
you are not supposed to do:

You scared them.

The next time you see those men,

you tell them exactly what
Mrs. Woodruff told your father and me

at your third grade
parent-teacher conference.

The... f*ck was that?

What she said was,
"Mr. and Mrs. Jimenez"...

- Oh, my God.
- ..."your son is gonna be President

of the United States someday."

Okay? That's the kind of brilliance
we're talking about here.

She was talking about me
running for student council.

As a stepping stone.

What an arrogant,
self-righteous butt wipe.

He's like Pedro on The Real World,
if all Pedro did was yell at Puck

for putting his finger
in his peanut butter.

Whoa... you're siding with Puck?

Uh, yeah.

Miguel never got you.

Not like I do.

Not like Derek does.

You're a badass b*tch
just like me who doesn't give a f*ck.

But

- I do give a f*ck.
- Mm-mm.

I give a lotta f*ck, actually.

You don't know me at all,
and I-I don't know you.

My mom was right.
I-I don't even know your name.

It's Liz... probably.

I don't think I wanna
be friends with you anymore.

We were never friends.

Exactly.

I wanna trust you.

I'm just so scared you're gonna hurt me.

- Ah, ah! Wh...
- I don't know what happened.

We got to the cabin,
and Chad and Kevin asked

if I wanna try something really fun,

so of course I said yes
because I like really fun stuff.

They blindfolded me, put me in the suit,

shoved a ghost pepper in my mouth,
and told me to run like the wind,

and if I stopped running,
even for a second,

they said they would know,

and I would have to swallow
the ghost pepper...

- Was, was Miguel...
- I mean, did you see Miguel down there?

He never showed up... Lucky b*stard.

Miguel?

Miguel?!

Miguel?!

- Miguel?!
- Lindsay!

Miguel?!

Hey. Hi.

You came to find me.

Well, yeah. You, you told me
you were afraid of the woods.

You remembered that?

Of course.

I don't wanna scare you,

but there's a bear...
somewhere around here.

Hey,

he went home.

Come on, let's go.

- Hey, guys...
- Have you seen a bear?

'Bout yea high?
Ghost pepper in his mouth?

Things got pretty crazy at the cabin.

Oh, wait.

Were you about to bone?