In Treatment s03e03 Episode Script

Okay.
What up, dawg? What up wit'choo? Have you been practicing? I appreciate that.
-So -So, I took a lot of really good pictures this week.
At least I think they're really good.
Do you want to see them? Sure.
Sure.
I uploaded a lot of them onto Facebook.
I tried to friend you, but then I discovered you're not on Facebook.
Are you a libertarian or something? -No.
-Well, then you should get on Facebook.
Our society is becoming increasingly bifurcated.
Do you know what that means? Yes, I do.
Well, it was a vocab word this week and I kind of loved it.
I feel I have a real affinity for the concept of bifurcation.
Are you listening to me right now? Don't I sound like Miriam-Webster or something? I think that's Merriam, isn't it? Say what? It's called The Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
What kind of name is "Merriam"? Well, there was a guy called Noah Webster, who wrote the original dictionary, and when he died, these two brothers, Charles and George Merriam, they revised the dictionary and they renamed it "The Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
" How do you know that? -I don't know.
I just -Okay.
Anyway, as I was saying, our lives are now, like, half in real time and half in virtual time.
Also, how do you expect to find yourself a lady friend? You think the brainy girls you like are at the bar? There's no way.
They are at home watching Mad Men and surfing Match.
com.
Well, maybe I like to let the game come to me.
Man, don't do that.
You know that sports metaphors offend my delicate homosexual sensibilities.
Well.
Well, enough about me.
So why don't you tell me about Oh, God, I love this thing so much.
When I was a kid, and I got my very first camera, I took it everywhere with me.
I even slept with it.
And one time, in school, we had to give a speech about our "most important being," and kids were talking about their mother or their hamster or something.
I talked about my camera.
Who gave it to you? Don't remember.
Here they are.
Just click that button to go to the next one.
-Like this? -Yeah.
Okay.
So that's this guy at the bodega on my corner who always sings along with this crazy Arabic rock station.
Or actually, he might be praying.
I don't know.
-This one I like.
-You do? I mean, it would be better if it was less centered in the frame, but That's the lady that lives next door to us, who is a royal bitch to Marisa.
And, last summer, I superglued nails outside of her garage door.
She punctured all four tires.
I'm particularly proud of that.
Keep going.
I took that one from Battery Park.
-Oh, that's -Yeah, there's Lady Liberty.
She's so hot.
This was at this bar I was at the other night.
That guy's a homo, but he's got a wife and three kids and won't admit it.
And this chick is in love with him.
Wait, that one's nothing.
Yeah, that's all of them, I think.
So which night was this? Friday, I think.
No, Saturday.
But it says Tuesday.
Where? On the camera.
Well, the calendar's way off.
What? It's been off since I got it.
I just never bothered to reset it.
Did you like the pictures? -Which bar was that? -Does it matter? Was it the one that Josh and Raif own? You know what your problem is? You think all art has to have context.
That's so bourgeois.
Was this Josh and Raif's bar? Yes.
Did you take the pictures last night? Yes.
Did you go to school today? No.
I'll go to school tomorrow.
Jesus.
Ansel Adams didn't finish high school.
Neither did Richard Avedon.
And you know where I got that information? Online.
Did l, like, swear to you I wouldn't see them again? -No.
-No.
So stop looking at me like I've disappointed you or something.
I'm not your fucking kid.
You know, Jesse, we've been talking for a while now about why it isn't such a good idea for you to continue to see Josh and Raif anymore.
-You've been talking.
-No, not true, Jesse.
A few weeks ago, you said to me that you were uncomfortable there, because they think you're a freshman at NYU, and because they were a couple and because you were feeling used.
-No, I never said "used.
" -I think you did.
No, I said "fucked.
" I said, "l was feeling fucked while I was being fucked.
" And I know exactly what I said because I was trying to make you uncomfortable.
You were trying to shock me, yeah? Whatever.
Or throw me off balance, Iike when you flashed the camera in my face at the door.
It's your way of distracting me, yeah? Sending up flares, obscuring who you are.
We've talked about this.
You are a minor.
Please, dude, I'm going to be 17 in, like, a month.
What are you going to do? Call Child Protective Services? They'll hang up on you.
I remember something that you said last month.
You said that you were worried that you had a promiscuity problem.
Do you remember that? At the time you seemed pretty upset about it.
We're perfectly safe, okay? We use condoms every time.
You know what? Call the fucking police.
I don't care.
Have you been having trouble sleeping? No, have you? Have you been taking your Adderall? -You mean have I been selling my Adderall? -That's not what I said.
Yeah, but that's what you actually want to know, isn't it? You seem pretty anxious today.
Just trying to figure out why.
Well, I don't have to sell that shit anymore.
My ship's about to come in.
What do you mean? Do you want to see something awesome? It's this new app I got.
It's called "Hoesr.
" You just open it, and it finds out where you are and tells you exactly where the closest hook-up is.
Over 1,500 guys join it every day.
-That's weird.
-Jesse.
Wow, your office is like a dead zone, dude.
Can you put that away, please? Do you have an anti-sexual force field around this place or something? I'm not gonna ask you again.
Put it away.
All right.
Fucking puritan.
Marisa sent me a bitchy text at 5:00 a.
m.
this morning.
After you hadn't come home.
Yeah.
Well, you can imagine that your mother might be upset.
Can I read it to you? Why don't you just tell me what it says? I sent her one first, telling her that I was fine.
And she wrote back, here it is.
She's just like, "Good.
" Don't you think she was relieved to hear from you? Please.
I gave her the night off.
Do you think Do you think your mother finds you a burden? I hate talking about my fucking parents.
My father hired this new guy, Mario.
Really hot.
Italian, of course.
He's being groomed to take over the business.
I can tell.
Does that feel to you like a rejection? No.
Why? Well, isn't the business called D'Amato & Sons? -Don't take it literally.
It's a metaphor.
-Meaning? Like, "D'Amato and people he wishes were his sons.
" -So it does feel personal.
-Please.
You think I want to be a fucking electrician? I'm gonna be a Doctor Without Borders, like my real father.
Or a crack whore like my real mother.
When did Mario start to work for your father? A few days ago.
I'm just wondering if your behavior this week has anything to do with that.
My behavior? You were demonstrating some pretty troubling behavior.
Sleeping around, skipping school, selling drugs.
But I felt in the last few sessions you've been gaining some control over that behavior.
-But in the past week -Adderall is not a drug.
-What would you call it? -It's like a fucking vitamin.
I was providing a necessary service for the youth of this city, okay? So get off my fucking back.
God, this sucks.
What does? I just feel like such a fuck-up today.
Why? Did you know that Doctors Without Borders makes everyone eat this special peanut butter to gain weight, and it's called Plumpy'nut? No, I didn't know that.
Plumpy'nut.
Sounds like some of the guys I know.
Have you ever noticed that when you talk about your birth parents, your father is always somebody different, yet your mother remains the same? No.
Like sometimes he's a novelist, a race car driver.
Today, he's a doctor.
Yet your mother always remains the same.
A degenerate crack whore.
So? I'm just curious what you make of that.
Must be some sort of misogynist.
Or maybe I think all women are useless because I'm gay.
Do you wanna hear something crazy? -No, I don't.
-No? No, because I'd rather focus on you for the time being.
-So can you put that away? -Why can't I just hold it? Because I think it's distracting you from concentrating on yourself.
-Jesse, why don't you give me the phone? -No! I like holding it.
Okay.
Here.
Hello, is this Jesse D'Amato? If this is If this is Jesse D'Amato, that was born in Kings County Hospital, December 14th, 1993, well, then Well, my name is Karen Scott and my number is 914-555-0178.
I I think I'm your birth mother.
I hope you call me back.
Wow.
Yeah.
When did you get that? Yesterday.
I picked it up after school.
And have you returned the call? No.
Why are you nodding? I'm sorry.
I didn't realize Yeah, like this all makes perfect sense to you or something.
I'm sorry.
It's just the way that I process information How come it's okay for you to nod when you're thinking, but if I tap my fists together, I have to be medicated? Can we get back to the voicemail? This must be like a therapist's wet dream or something, right? How did you feel when you heard that message? I don't know, doc.
Confused, betrayed, Iike suddenly the weight of the entire world was bearing down on my slender shoulders.
What did I feel? Nothing.
This woman is a fucking stranger.
How did she even get my number? That's a good question.
I'm also not sure that what she did was technically legal.
You know, I should call the phone company.
"Hello, AT&T.
I would like to report a complaint.
"You gave my fucking cell phone number "to the fucking crack whore who gave birth to me, "and now she won't stop fucking calling me, so what the fuck am I supposed to do?" What do you want to do, Jesse? Tell me.
Tell me how you're feeling.
Why? Because I think it's important for you to articulate what's going on inside your head.
There's nothing going on.
I swear all I hear is static.
Static? Yeah.
It happens to me sometimes.
Static, and really faint voices that I can't make out, like, there's some radio station playing from far away with a bad connection.
Is that what's happening right now? Yeah.
Sorry.
For what? I don't know.
Okay, so you got the message yesterday afternoon.
What did you do right after you picked it up? -I went for a walk.
-And where did you walk? Over the bridge into the city.
That's a long walk.
Well, I was taking pictures.
Were you headed anyplace in particular? The bar.
Josh and Raif's bar.
Yup.
Josh and Raif, your two favorite fags.
You know, it's interesting to me in periods of real emotional confusion, you seek out sex.
It seems like a pattern for you.
Well, maybe it's your problem.
I mean, you're the one that keeps bringing it up.
You're, like, officially obsessed with my sex life.
Stop freaking nodding! We didn't have sex! -No? -No! They could see I was upset, so Josh stayed at the bar, and Raif and I went back to their place, and we ordered takeout and watched The Daily Show, okay? So you can put your dick away.
God! Why are all straight guys such fucking pervs? -Jesse.
-What? Don't speak to me like that.
Okay? I'm sorry.
And I'm And I'm sorry too.
I guess I didn't realize how significant Josh and Raif are to you and that you rely upon them.
Yeah.
I mean, they're, like, really good guys.
Did you tell them about the phone call? No.
It's a Westchester number.
I looked it up.
Nine-one-four.
She lives in Westchester.
-You know what that means? -What? The bitch is rich.
Not a crack whore then.
No.
So how do you want to respond? I don't know.
You know what, I think we should talk about it some more before you do.
Okay.
Yeah, fine.
So where are you headed after this? You don't You don't want to go home? What the fuck does that mean? What am I supposed to say? "Hi, Mom.
What's for dinner? Guess who called? "My birth mother.
" Well, that's the first time I think I've heard you refer to your mother as "Mom," not "Marisa".
Whatever.
How do you think she might respond if you came home and told her about the call? I don't know.
She would probably just turn up The Beatles and organize the fridge.
So, where are you headed? I don't know.
Maybe I'll just go for another walk and see where I end up.
Knock the rock.
Explode the rock.
-See you next week.
-Okay.