Alright, this is our first session. How do you want to do this?
You're the boss, aren't you? Shouldn't you decide?
I'm trying to be a modern man, here. Letting women make their own decisions and all...
The idea that you're "letting me" make the decision undercuts the whole concept, you know.
Oh. Fine, I'll just give you the basics.
Go for it. This better be good.
It's kind of a slow burn, really. Settle in. You don't have to roll your eyes so hard.
Yes, I do.
Fine.
I was born here in Chicago. I'm 83 now, so go ahead and do the math on that.
Old as hell, got it.
You will be, too, one day.
I plan to die young and leave behind a gorgeous body.
You better not die young.
What do you care?! We just met!
Oh, just as a matter of principle. You're, what, 16 years old?
Asshole.
That's strong language for a minor.
You want to talk about feminism, I'll beat your ass, how does that sound?
I might be into that.
I'm this close to quitting on my first day.
OK, OK, I'll stop. And give you an extra hundred for putting up with this.
I'm glad you understand. Now, get on with the fucking story, maybe?
I was born right here in Chicago. Well, not right here. In a different part.
Are you going to crack wise every other sentence or what?
If you keep interrupting me!
My parents were missionaries. I have an older brother but I don't want to get into that right now.
You're gonna have to fill me in on the family drama eventually. I live for that stuff.
Oh, don't you worry, I'll get to it.
As I was saying, I was an awesome little kid that everyone loved. My best friend was June, who was almost as awesome as me. My childhood was about as normal as it could be for a kid whose parents traveled all around trying to bring people to Jesus. Money wasn't a problem because my mother's family was loaded. My brother took care of me, most of the time.
And you seem so grateful about it.
If you met him, you'd get it.
June died when we were both 16, and that sucked.
School shooting?
Not exactly. If you were making a joke, that's really not funny.
So, sexual harassment is fine but school shooting jokes aren't? What about 9/11 jokes?
Give me your best one.
You know why it's so risky to make 9/11 jokes?
I don't know, why?
They usually don't land.
I hadn't heard that one before. I'll file that away for my next dinner party.
I have a hard time believing anyone invites you to dinner parties.
It's been a while.
Let me continue. I graduated high school, more or less. Then I joined the military.
What war did you fight in, the Spanish-American War?
Oh, another old man joke, how creative. Meanwhile, if I said you had nice tits you'd get me canceled on Twitter in about 7 seconds.
And don't you forget it! Shut up about my tits, asshole.
I didn't say anything about them, I was presenting a hypothetical.
I'll hypothetically kick you in whatever balls you have left.
I knew it'd be fun to have you around. You're more than just eye candy.
Motherfucker! You've got me this close to committing elder abuse.
OK, just remember, the safe word is "papaya."
That's everyone's safe word. You're not very original.
I'm the template, really.
I did my stint in the military, then I went private for a bit, by which I mean I became a merc.
Somehow, I believe that.
I decided freelancing was a little too hot for my liking, so I went corporate. I used my connections to get a sweet gig as a VP for a multinational. Somehow, that was a lot more exciting than getting shot at in the jungles of Peru.
Corporate warfare is hell.
You said it. After a number of years in that world, I got out. Picked up this place from an old friend, learned how to be a locksmith. I'd say it's steady work but it's not. But I also don't do it for the money. It's just something to do.
What do you do for fun?
I'm unfamiliar with this concept.
Uh huh. Come on, I want to know.
Do you like whiskey?
No. And I don't think being an alcoholic qualifies as a hobby.
Wow, way to jump to conclusions, conclusion-jumper. I haven't even had my third glass yet today.
Since you want to drag it out of me: I actually do like to party. I used to be a hell of a dancer. I can hold a room, too. I'm a people person. Always got top marks on my military assessments for teamwork and leadership and all that.
Do they give medals for that?
No, but I have some war medals. Those are pretty cool.
Baby-killer.
Easy, Jane Fonda.
Who?
Kids...
Can't you tell I'm really funny?
I'm not seeing it.
Tough crowd.
The other fun stuff I like to do, you'd yell at me for saying, so I'll keep it to myself.
I want to add something else to our arrangement, by the way.
No sex. I already told you.
No, not that. I have... a condition. I need an IV infusion every couple weeks.
They have home health aides for that. Didn't you say you have money? I'm sure you could pay someone to do it. I don't know the first thing about running an IV.
I'll teach you.
OK, but why that instead of paying a nurse?
I need someone I can trust. I don't need strangers going in and out of here.
You met me like 2 days ago!
Yes, and aren't we getting along great?
I hate you.
Perfect. Then you'll love stabbing me with needles.
Seriously, no jokes. Why me? Is this some fucked up kink thing? I swear to God...
No, look, I promise. It's nothing weird or creepy. I need someone to do this who I know isn't going to poison me or something. I vetted you. You're cleaner than a whistle.
I don't think I even want to know how you "vetted" me.
That's for the best. I'll teach you how to do an IV. I have easy veins. It won't be too hard. I have all the supplies.
And you're sure you can't do this yourself? You seem plenty resourceful.
If I was in top condition I could maybe do my own IVs, one-handed. But I'm 83 and my hands aren't as steady as they used to be. Take pity on an old man.
I'm thinking more about putting a pillow over your face, but keep going.
I'm glad you get the vibe. Then you'll do the IVs?
I'll do it once and see how I feel about it. It's not today, is it?
No, next week.
OK. I need some time to psych myself up. I don't like needles. Or the sight of blood. Or dirty old men. You're really putting me through it, here.
Again: you get to stab me with said needle. That's got to be worth something.
I bet it won't even hurt you, Mr. Military Mercenary Man.
I'll be sure to make some "ow" noises just for you.
Is there anything else you want to add to this "arrangement" of ours before I get too deep into it?
Actually, yes. I have some ground rules in addition to what I told you last time.
First, no guests. I don't want your boyfriends, best friends, last night's hookup, your weed dealer, I don't want anybody I don't know tagging along with you. Got it?
Oh, what a hard one. I was just dying to introduce you to all my friends.
I'm just saying.
Second, don't touch anything around here without my permission. Even if you think you know what it is and how it works, leave it alone. My equipment is very sensitive.
All you have around here is an old TV and a bunch of locksmithing tools. I don't even see an iPad.
I'm more of an Android guy. You'll get that joke later.
You're really fucking weird.
I get that a lot, yes.
Any more stupid rules?
I can't stop you from running your mouth, but I'd prefer if you didn't mention me to others. At least, don't tell them what I tell you.
What I got so far is so scintillating I don't think you have to worry about that.
That was barely even an appetizer. There's so much more. I need you to understand that I'm telling you these things in confidence.
But why tell me, then? What am I supposed to do with it? I'm not your friend or therapist or something.
It'll all make sense to you later, I promise.
Just like the Android joke.
Exactly.
This talking in riddles shit is going to continue, isn't it?
I'm afraid so. Hey, it'll give you fun stuff to think about while you're otherwise contemplating late stage capitalism.
Let me think... oh, don't show up unannounced. I'll text you about what days I want you to come listen to me.
What about your daily coffee?
That's separate. I always want that. But I won't always want to talk. Depends on how I'm feeling. If I don't answer the door, just leave the coffee outside it. Some days, I don't even wake up. Getting old, I guess.
Shouldn't you see a doctor for that?
And what, get diagnosed with "old as shit"? No thanks.
On that note, what's in the IV infusions you want me to do? Those don't seem like an everyday thing.
No, it's only every two weeks.
You know what I mean!
It's a special nutritional supplement. It keeps my body working smoothly. Maybe I'll tell you what's in it some other time. But to put your mind at ease, it's not illegal drugs or something.
And I just have to take your word for it?
For 60 bucks an hour, I think you could take a lot of things.
Well, you're not wrong. But this better not get me in any trouble.
The only trouble around here is mine, and I won't make it yours.
See, stuff like that just makes me wonder what you haven't told me yet.
A lot! Be patient. It'll all unfold over time. You kids these days, you all want instant gratification. I'm going to teach you patience.
I think I've shown a ton of patience by not hitting you.
OK, fair.