Dear John (1986–1987): Season 1, Episode 2 - In the Club - full transcript
(Door opens) Darling, I'm home.
♫ Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ By the time you read these lines, I'll be gone
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John
♫ So long
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
Hello, there.
Yeah, I'm fine, thank you.
Oh, hi, there, Steve, oId paI.
Wotcher, er...
John.
Oh, yeah.
— Are you likely to be down the local tonight?
— More than likely.
Well, if I'm not too busy, I'II join you for a pint.
No, I'll be With er...friends.
Oh.
(Door slams)
Sorry, Stevie, oId paI.
I can't make it this evening.
I know it's Friday
and the gang will be disappointed,
but I haven't got time for going out
and enjoying myself.
I'll be busy this evening watching Dallas
and cutting my throat.
Hello, Mrs Lemenski.
You loony!
Have a nice day, Mrs Lemenski.
Oh.
(Sniffs)
Mm, rotting flesh!
Must be from her.
“Dear John...“ Oh, she remembered.
“Thank you for your letter of last week
and thank you also for remembering
that since our divorce
I have reverted to my maiden name of Fitch.
Unfortunately, however,
you misspelt my name on the cheque.“
(Sniggers)
“It was only by one letter,
but embarrassing enough to stop me
from presenting it to my bank.
You really are a silly little person.
I suppose you thought it was hilariously funny,
having Interflora deliver a Venus flytrap
for my birthday.
I have become thorougly sick and tired
of your juvenile sense of humour,
therefore I have instructed my solicitors to apply
for an increase in maintenance payments.
I hope this letter finds you well.
Love, Wendy.“
Why, the merciless mare!
I can't afford to pay her any more.
I can't afford to pay her what I'm paying her.
You're talking to yourself again. I know!
I'll go round there this evening,
and I'll tell her exactly what I think of her.
No. Much better, I'II ring her at the office
and tell her over the phone.
She thinks she can walk all over me.
We'll see about that.
This time, I shall fight her with all guns blazing.
The worm has finally turned.
Oh, I'd love to see her face
when they tell her they've found my body.
(Payphone beeps)
Hello, it's me. I don't know what the hell
you think you're playing at,
but can't you understand I have nothing left?
Because you've got it all — the house, the car,
nearly two thirds of my meagre salary.
Now, you can apply to any court you wish.
But I am telling you here and now,
you will not get another penny out of me.
Do you understand that, you, you...
unscrupulous, money—grabbing,
goId—digging cow?
What?
I'm sorry. Extension 179, please.
Oh, God!
Hello again, Mrs Lemenski.
I see er...tomatoes are down in price.
You crazy person.
Why you bang your head on wall?
Well, it stops me from getting bored,
Mrs Lemenski.
I should report you to the authorities.
I won't be a moment and the phone's aII yours.
Wendy, it's John. I've just received your letter.
I don't know what you think...
John.
John Lacey. We were divorced recentIy.
Yes.
Wendy... Wendy, darling...
I can't afford to give you any more money.
This is maintenance, darling, not the civil list.
Why don't you get that tight—fisted Welshman
you're living with
to cough up
something towards the housekeeping?
Mike isn't living there?
Don't be silly. Of course he is!
Everyone knows he is. Wendy...
Wendy, he's just been elected chairman
of the residents' association.
The last time I called round, Mike was sitting
in my chair with Toby curled up on his lap.
Now, if you remember, darling,
Toby used to bite strangers.
Yes, that's right. He bit me.
I really think you ought to stop him doing that.
I don't know.
Have a word with his headmaster!
Yes.
Yes, all right, darling.
Look, sweetheart,
I really can't pay you any more money.
By the time I've finished paying for the...
Well, for the mortgage and the rates
on your house and the rent for my apartment,
I barely have enough left
for the little luxuries of life...
like bread.
Wendy, call your solicitors off...please.
Yes, yes, I'll write you out another cheque.
And I'll spell your name properly.
No, no more Venus flytraps, I promise.
Thank you, darling.
No, I can't bring the cheque round tonight.
I'm possibly going out this evening.
Well, it's a place called...the 1—2—1 Club.
It's not a nightclub.
I can't afford nightclubs, darling.
Yes, it's a club,
and yes, you do go there at night.
But it's not a nightclub.
Well, if you must know, it's a place for...
divorced and separated people.
God, that laugh!
Yes, yes, I'll try and enjoy myself.
Yes, and I'll put the cheque in the post.
Yeah, goodbye for now. Give my love to Tob...
(Line goes dead)
In case you didn't catch every single word of that
conversation, let me give you a quick resume.
Tonight, I'm going out to find a woman
who's interested only in my body.
Oh, yes?
You have a date with a medical student?
Are you a disco—type person?
— No.
— You should enjoy this, then.
Where do you hold these monthly discos?
Oh, we held the last one
outside in the main hall.
It was quite good. You could almost believe
you were in a real disco...
if you could ignore the vaulting horse,
climbing ropes
and the rather strange smell
from behind the radiators.
Last week, there were only five members.
It'll look rather stupid, five of us boogying
the night away with a million cubic feet.
We won't be the only ones there, dear.
This isn't the only night the 1—2—1 Club meets.
We have our Monday night people,
who meet on Monday nights, yah?
There are the Wednesday night people
who meet on Wednesday nights
and we are the Friday night people because...?
Ooh, that's a toughie, Louise!
Yes.
Then every so often, we all get together
and have a little disco, a party,
something like that.
You'll enjoy it.
Louise, John.
Hello, Ralph. Ralph's got a motorbike.
Sorry I'm a bit late.
I've had a bit of trouble with my sprockets.
Well, you're here now, dear.
Perhaps you'd like to hang
all that paraphernalia up.
Oh, yes, of course.
- Hi.
JOHN: Hello, Kate.
LOUISE: Hi.
And how are we this week?
— Fine, thank you.
— That's the spirit, dear. One day at a time.
Mrs Arnott.
I adore that hat and coat.
I meant to remark upon it last week.
I wonder if that imbecile
will be here again this week.
Kate, sshh!
No, when I said “imbecile", I didn't mean Ralph.
Evening, Mrs Arnott.
Kate.
No, I meant that other guy,
Kirk St Moritz or whatever he called himself.
I don't expect we'll be seeing him again.
I've met too many like him before.
They read the words "divorced“ and “separated"
and they walk in here expecting to find
a load of sexually—frustrated women.
If you would care to hang that coat of yours up,
dean
perhaps we could get started.
As I was just telling er...
— John.
— Yes.
As I was just telling John,
on the board you'll find a selection
of our forthcoming social events.
Perhaps you'd care to note a few of them
in your diaries.
The Halloween fondue at Mrs Haddock's
isn't definite.
She's on the verge again,
so I should pencil that one in lightly.
And it might be a good idea to have a rubber
handy for the vicars and tarts party as well.
The application forms are on my desk
for the Chopin concert.
Hey, gang!
Oh, God!
Tiger! Whoo!
Hey, John. Hey!
Ralphie! Looking good, my man.
Louise.
Hi.
We didn't think you'd be back.
Nobody ever does,
but that's the fascinating thing about me.
Yes...fine.
Well, since we are all here,
perhaps we'd better get underway.
Louise, the fat woman isn't here.
All right, I'm sorry! So the fat woman is here.
Yes, well...
Hi, everyone and welcome.
It's nice to see we're all here again.
Fine.
Well, now, before we start tonight, I'd like to
clear up a few little points from last week.
I got the impression that certain people
hadn't quite understood the purpose
of the 1-2-1 Club,
and others seemed reluctant to...
grasp the nettle, as it were.
I'd like to clear up a few little misapprehensions
before we go any further. Fine.
Now, the club is not here just to organise
all the fun events
and crazy evenings you see on the board.
No.
It is also an encounter group, yah?
Now...what do you understand by the term
“encounter group"?
Hm?
— Erm...
— Yes, Ralph?
Well, an encounter group means we er...
encounter things.
Good guess, Ralph.
What kind of things?
Erm...people.
It's a little more than that.
I think what you're trying to say, Ralph,
is that we are a symposium
of ideas and formulae
seeking greater emotional awareness
within the framework of viable spatial patterns,
by means of a sympathetic dialogue based on
interactive co—operation and mutual trust, yah?
— No.
— Good!
Good. Well, of course,
that is oversimplifying the matter.
But...
..let's all think about it.
Do we have to?
I think it would throw new light
on a few dark little corners.
Well, it's certainly opened my eyes, Louise.
Good! Fine.
Well, now...
let's all kind of...relax.
Let's all try and feel really laid—back.
Hey!
Yes.
Let's relax our bodies and our minds.
Feel free.
“Free" is our word.
You could relax more than that, Ralph,
if you tried.
Sorry.
We can all feel that warm atmosphere
of mutual trust and freedom
washing over us.
(Mouths)
There now.
Isn't that good?
Now, then, I thought I would start our discussion
off with one topic,
and then we could veer off in any direction
that the muse may take us.
And now that we are all nice and relaxed,
let's take as our theme...
suicidal tendencies.
Kate?
Oh, come on, Ralphie,
what are you trying to give us here?
All I'm saying is that sometimes
I think about her and it makes me depressed.
Well, sometimes I think about your wife and it
makes me depressed. I've never even met her!
What's that supposed to mean?
She was ugly, really ugly.
How can you know that
when you've never met her?
She came from one of them commie countries,
Bulgaria or somewhere.
She came from Poland.
Bulgaria, Poland, what's the difference?
It's well—known that the chicks
from the Eastern Bloc are ugly.
That's a stupid thing to say!
That's the sort of guy I am.
Do you know what they call pretty girls
in Poland? Tourists.
That's a bit below the belt, Kirk!
You'd better get used to it, Ralphie.
I never pull my punches.
Know what the other guys used to call me
when I was in the marines?
Dickhead?
They called me
"Straight from the Shoulder“ St Moritz.
If the truth hurts, tough.
I'll tell you something else that gets me down.
Plants.
Plants?
Yes.
Growing—in—the—earth, watering—can type plants?
Yes. Does that sound silly?
I'm not sure, really.
(Chuckles)
You see, when I was a child, I read a book.
Kirk's hoping to do that one day, aren't you?
It said in this book
that certain leading scientists believe
that plants have established
a system of communication.
They can actually talk to each other.
It's quite feasible when you think about it.
I mean, lots of people talk to plants, don't they?
Don't you ever talk to plants, Kate?
Well, I've said a few words
to that cabbage over there.
For the sake of argument,
let's say that plants do talk to each other.
Why should that worry you so much?
Oh, I'm not worried
because they talk to each other.
I just sometimes wonder
if they're talking about me.
Yes, it's a common problem.
When I was younger,
I used to have nightmares about it.
What, you saw yourself trapped in a grow bag
or something?
Why don't you just shut your stupid mouth?
Oh, Tiger!
Well, you know what a vivid imagination
a 10—year—old can have.
Mm.
My parents didn't understand.
They took me to see the doctor.
That's better than taking you to see The Triffids.
Let's move on, shall we...
before the cheese plants start gossiping?
— Kate.
- What?
Do you feel able to tell us any more
about yourself?
Personal anxieties, fears...
sexual problems?
No, not yet.
Oh, fine.
Well, just as soon as you feel ready, dear.
We don't want to push you.
When were you divorced?
— June '85.
— Oh, not that long ago.
And...October 1980.
— Well, you're not the only one.
— And...
— Yes?
— March '77.
You mean you've been divorced three times?
I can see why you're a teacher.
I mean, was there a problem...
Is it the same problem?
No, there was no problem, I just...
Probably just been through a sticky patch, Kate.
It's just a run of bad luck.
Sometimes I get very, very depressed
about the whole thing.
And I'm sure that everyone here
understands what you mean.
When I get depressed, I eat a Mars bar.
Well, there's a possible solution for you, dear.
One day, I ate 1! Mars bars.
Yes, well...
we all have those mornings
when we get out of bed on the wrong side.
You're obviously an emotional eater, Mrs Arnott.
The only thing you can do
is to form a strong and loving relationship...
or have your jaws wired together.
You people may find this hard to believe,
but even I have suffered from depression.
Hard to believe?
If I were you, I'd be positively suicidal.
No, you're not me, Tiger.
Do you er...see this?
Oh, I'd never noticed that before.
It's a dinky little thing, isn't it?
This was given to me by a very special little lady
in San Francisco.
That's the US ofA of.
That San Francisco?
She wanted me to have this cross
as something to remember her by.
Her last words to me were,
“I want you to have this cross
as something to remember me by."
This is made from Peruvian gold.
Still, it looks nice, Kirk.
I loved her. I wanted to marry her.
But there was this one big problem.
She couldn't stand the sight of you.
Nah, she worshipped the ground I lay on.
No, the problem was...
she was a nun.
Sister Maria In Gracias Isabella.
(Kate groans)
Or, as I called her, Candy.
We used to cruise the freeway together
on my Harley Davidson, helping the needy.
It's amazing how romantic a soup run can be.
Finally, we came to D Day.
D for decision.
She had to choose between Jesus and me.
And...the big guy won.
Oh, God!
That's what Candy said. I pleaded with her.
I said, "Baby, look at your life.
You wear a habit, a rosary, live in a convent.
Carry on like this, you'll end up a religious nut!"
She wouldn't listen.
Is there a bucket round here?
We said our goodbyes in a quiet little place
I knew down in the Latin quarter —
the Rock Rococo Club.
As we danced our last dance together,
it seemed that final Bossa Nova
would last for ever.
A bit like this story.
After she left, I became a recluse.
I hid away for four, five...
..no, longer than that, maybe a whole week.
But I don't want to talk about it.
Thank God for that!
Dear God!
The cafeteria's still open, you know.
Moving swiftly on.
John, when was the lowest moment of your life?
Right now, Louise.
This has been a day to remember.
This afternoon I discovered my ex—wife
has an identity problem.
She keeps thinking she's a leech.
Some men are simply bled dry.
I am being koshered.
I come out tonight
and I hear the parable of the go—go nun,
I meet a fully—grown man
who suffers from the Bill and Ben syndrome
and a woman who's been divorced from three
different men and thinks she hasn't a problem.
Bastard!
That's a rotten thing to say, guy.
Oh, suddenly you're standing up for Kate?
No, I meant the go—go nun bit.
I know I've got a problem.
I have to face that problem every bloody day
but I choose not to broadcast it.
Would you tell the whole world you had three
marriages break up because you're frigid?
(Louise gasps)
I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to...
You call that a problem? One hour with me...
Drop dead! See what you've done?
I said I'm sorry.
Did you never go and see
a marriage guidance counsellor?
Yes, my second husband ran off with her!
What did you mean, the Bill and Ben syndrome?
Shut up, Ralph!
This has been a most successful evening!
I'm sure you all feel a lot better, yah?
We've found a new atmosphere of trust
and confidence in one another.
We've cleared the air,
swept away our inhibitions.
And they're still open.
— Half a Guinness.
— Thank you.
— A margarita.
— Thank you.
And a double gin.
Would you like a tonic with that?
No.
Fine, I'll be...
Yes.
If you feel the need to talk about it, dear,
you can confide in us.
— I don't want to talk about it.
— No, well, we do understand.
Did your husbands try and force themselves
on you?
I don't want to talk about it, Louise.
No, well, of course,
it must bring back bitter memories.
Was there...physical pain?
God!
You're putting me on.
You mean you've never been to Acapulco?
If you fancy a weekend there, give me a ring.
I've got a private Lear jet standing
on the Tarmac at Gatwick airport.
You've got a private jet plane?
Don't be too impressed, Ralphie. It's an old one.
- Here you go, my man.
— God, I need this.
I tell you what you need even more,
and that's advice.
— Oh, really?
— Listen closely, Ralph, this goes for you as well.
Shall I tell you why you two are such failures?
- Why?
— Because you're both boring.
Boring, boring, boring.
Well, thanks very much for that, Kirk.
That's been very enlightening.
Look, you're a teacher. (Yawns)
And Ralph...
Well, Ralph's just Ralph. (Yawns)
He's got a point, John.
You've got to put a bit of spice into
your background, a bit of zap into your past.
How do you,
when there's no zap there to begin with?
You pretend. You lie.
Hey...
I'll let you two cats into a secret.
You know that story I told about meeting the nun
in San Francisco?
Vaguely.
Well...it wasn't true.
You're kidding!
No, no, that's for real.
Well, you certainly had me fooled, Kirk.
Natch. That's because I tell it with such heart
and sincerity.
Birds really go for that story.
They want to mother you.
Church of England chicks don't bite so fast,
but who's hurrying?
How can I put more zap into my past,
you know, make it more interesting?
If you were to tell a chick
you lost an umbrella on a bus,
that would make your past more interesting.
I did lose an umbrella on a bus.
In fact, I lost two.
That's interesting, Ralph.
What I don't see is how...
Why did you have two umbrellas?
Oh, no, different umbrellas.
Different buses.
Oh, I see. Look, what strikes me as odd...
One was a foldaway, telescope—type umbrella,
on a 137 from Clapham North
to the Crystal Palace terminus.
JOHN: Yes, I see...
And the other...
was a conventional steel—tipped type,
on a Green Line to Biggin Hill.
Well, that's cleared that up.
But now, Ralphie, the chick is hooked.
She wants to know more, like,
did you get those umbrellas back?
— No.
- Ah!
You don't tell her that.
Oh, I'm catching on.
I tell her I got 'em back,
tell her about all the forms I had to fill in.
She's yours!
— Is he for real?
— Who knows?
Anyway, Kirk, thanks for the advice,
but no thanks.
To be honest with you,
I don't think I could tell a lie.
Even if my life depended on it,
I would be incapable of lying.
That's something you'll have to get over.
When we leave here tonight, I'm going on to
one of my clubs and you are coming with me.
No thanks, Kirk.
Why not? Don't you like me, or something?
No, it's not that, it's just...
Well, I'm going on to see a lady friend.
She's er...
She's cooking supper for me at her flat.
Tell me more, tell me more. Who is this chick?
Well, her name's um...
Margarita.
— Is she foreign, John?
— Is she black?
Oh, I love black birds.
Well, I'll buy you a crow for Christmas.
She is not black.
Where did you meet her?
— She's from the school.
— Wha—hey—hey!
No, she's a woman,
a full—grown woman of3... 28.
Colleague.
You certainly play them close to the chest.
— You finished?
— Yeah, I'm fit.
— Are you ready, girls?
— Ready as we'll ever be.
What's happening, Ralph?
We're all going off to Kirk's nightclub.
What, all of you except me?
— You're going to Margarita's.
— That's right.
Aren't you coming with us, John?
My main man here is gonna meet
some chick at her flat.
A girlfriend from school
is going to cook supper for him.
Well, this is news.
Kate, could I have a word with you, please?
Why would you, of all people,
go to a nightclub with Kirk?
Going out with that imbecile is marginally better
than going back to a cold and empty flat.
You're going to your friend's place.
You're going to have dinner, drink wine, dance,
whatever.
You don't have to go back to a little room
with nothing but the telly for company, do you?
No.
And neither do I.
At least not for several more hours.
Enjoy yourself.
You too.
You can come with me, dear.
Ralph, will you give Kate a lift
in your motorcycle combination?
Oh, yes, of course. I'll have to move
some of my fishing gear first.
Wait a minute,
I think I will come to the club with you.
What about the chick?
She might have forgotten. I don't want
to go round there and wake her up.
You've made arrangements with her.
Well, very casual arrangements.
She's cooking for you.
Well, it's nothing special.
She said there was no food in the house.
So I'm saving her a lot of trouble.
Shall we go, then?
Aren't you even going to let her know?
— Let her know what?
— That she won't be seeing you.
No, don't ring her, guy. Let her wait and wonder.
That's what I do with my chicks
and they love me all the more.
You seem to be forgetting something.
John is a human being.
Oh, right, yeah.
Please, phone her.
Yes.
Oh, God.
She probably was only going to make me
a cheese sandwich.
It was very casual.
She's that kind of lady, you know.
Margarita, hi, it's John.
Would you be awfully offended if
I took a rain check on our date for tonight?
Well, it's just that a couple of friends and myself,
we're going on to a little club.
It's one of their birthdays
and I've really got to be there.
Thank you, darling.
Why you phone me like this?
You mad person!
You are nutcase!
I knew you'd understand, darling.
One day, they'll put you in a straitjacket!
You loony man!
All right, sweetheart. See you in the week, eh?
Crazy.
Crazy!
They're all crazy.
Was she OK?
Mm? Oh, yes, she's fine.
She's a very understanding person.
Well, I wonder what Kirk's nightclub's like, eh?
As if we didn't know.
Well, apparently, it's not some sweaty dive.
He says it's a rather sophisticated,
upmarket kind of place.
Yes, but Kirk is an habitual liar.
Well, he can't lie about this place,
cos we're going to see it.
If we don't get there soon, we'll miss the finals.
What finals?
The Miss Wet T—shirt contest. Wha—hey!
I People change
I Can't explain
I Like the weather
I One day sun, next day rain
I Whatever happened to the plans we made?
I Seems that they ended with the masquerade
I Life goes on
I Right or wrong
I Now it's all been said and done
I Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ By the time you read these lines, I'll be gone
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John
♫ So long
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
Hello, there.
Yeah, I'm fine, thank you.
Oh, hi, there, Steve, oId paI.
Wotcher, er...
John.
Oh, yeah.
— Are you likely to be down the local tonight?
— More than likely.
Well, if I'm not too busy, I'II join you for a pint.
No, I'll be With er...friends.
Oh.
(Door slams)
Sorry, Stevie, oId paI.
I can't make it this evening.
I know it's Friday
and the gang will be disappointed,
but I haven't got time for going out
and enjoying myself.
I'll be busy this evening watching Dallas
and cutting my throat.
Hello, Mrs Lemenski.
You loony!
Have a nice day, Mrs Lemenski.
Oh.
(Sniffs)
Mm, rotting flesh!
Must be from her.
“Dear John...“ Oh, she remembered.
“Thank you for your letter of last week
and thank you also for remembering
that since our divorce
I have reverted to my maiden name of Fitch.
Unfortunately, however,
you misspelt my name on the cheque.“
(Sniggers)
“It was only by one letter,
but embarrassing enough to stop me
from presenting it to my bank.
You really are a silly little person.
I suppose you thought it was hilariously funny,
having Interflora deliver a Venus flytrap
for my birthday.
I have become thorougly sick and tired
of your juvenile sense of humour,
therefore I have instructed my solicitors to apply
for an increase in maintenance payments.
I hope this letter finds you well.
Love, Wendy.“
Why, the merciless mare!
I can't afford to pay her any more.
I can't afford to pay her what I'm paying her.
You're talking to yourself again. I know!
I'll go round there this evening,
and I'll tell her exactly what I think of her.
No. Much better, I'II ring her at the office
and tell her over the phone.
She thinks she can walk all over me.
We'll see about that.
This time, I shall fight her with all guns blazing.
The worm has finally turned.
Oh, I'd love to see her face
when they tell her they've found my body.
(Payphone beeps)
Hello, it's me. I don't know what the hell
you think you're playing at,
but can't you understand I have nothing left?
Because you've got it all — the house, the car,
nearly two thirds of my meagre salary.
Now, you can apply to any court you wish.
But I am telling you here and now,
you will not get another penny out of me.
Do you understand that, you, you...
unscrupulous, money—grabbing,
goId—digging cow?
What?
I'm sorry. Extension 179, please.
Oh, God!
Hello again, Mrs Lemenski.
I see er...tomatoes are down in price.
You crazy person.
Why you bang your head on wall?
Well, it stops me from getting bored,
Mrs Lemenski.
I should report you to the authorities.
I won't be a moment and the phone's aII yours.
Wendy, it's John. I've just received your letter.
I don't know what you think...
John.
John Lacey. We were divorced recentIy.
Yes.
Wendy... Wendy, darling...
I can't afford to give you any more money.
This is maintenance, darling, not the civil list.
Why don't you get that tight—fisted Welshman
you're living with
to cough up
something towards the housekeeping?
Mike isn't living there?
Don't be silly. Of course he is!
Everyone knows he is. Wendy...
Wendy, he's just been elected chairman
of the residents' association.
The last time I called round, Mike was sitting
in my chair with Toby curled up on his lap.
Now, if you remember, darling,
Toby used to bite strangers.
Yes, that's right. He bit me.
I really think you ought to stop him doing that.
I don't know.
Have a word with his headmaster!
Yes.
Yes, all right, darling.
Look, sweetheart,
I really can't pay you any more money.
By the time I've finished paying for the...
Well, for the mortgage and the rates
on your house and the rent for my apartment,
I barely have enough left
for the little luxuries of life...
like bread.
Wendy, call your solicitors off...please.
Yes, yes, I'll write you out another cheque.
And I'll spell your name properly.
No, no more Venus flytraps, I promise.
Thank you, darling.
No, I can't bring the cheque round tonight.
I'm possibly going out this evening.
Well, it's a place called...the 1—2—1 Club.
It's not a nightclub.
I can't afford nightclubs, darling.
Yes, it's a club,
and yes, you do go there at night.
But it's not a nightclub.
Well, if you must know, it's a place for...
divorced and separated people.
God, that laugh!
Yes, yes, I'll try and enjoy myself.
Yes, and I'll put the cheque in the post.
Yeah, goodbye for now. Give my love to Tob...
(Line goes dead)
In case you didn't catch every single word of that
conversation, let me give you a quick resume.
Tonight, I'm going out to find a woman
who's interested only in my body.
Oh, yes?
You have a date with a medical student?
Are you a disco—type person?
— No.
— You should enjoy this, then.
Where do you hold these monthly discos?
Oh, we held the last one
outside in the main hall.
It was quite good. You could almost believe
you were in a real disco...
if you could ignore the vaulting horse,
climbing ropes
and the rather strange smell
from behind the radiators.
Last week, there were only five members.
It'll look rather stupid, five of us boogying
the night away with a million cubic feet.
We won't be the only ones there, dear.
This isn't the only night the 1—2—1 Club meets.
We have our Monday night people,
who meet on Monday nights, yah?
There are the Wednesday night people
who meet on Wednesday nights
and we are the Friday night people because...?
Ooh, that's a toughie, Louise!
Yes.
Then every so often, we all get together
and have a little disco, a party,
something like that.
You'll enjoy it.
Louise, John.
Hello, Ralph. Ralph's got a motorbike.
Sorry I'm a bit late.
I've had a bit of trouble with my sprockets.
Well, you're here now, dear.
Perhaps you'd like to hang
all that paraphernalia up.
Oh, yes, of course.
- Hi.
JOHN: Hello, Kate.
LOUISE: Hi.
And how are we this week?
— Fine, thank you.
— That's the spirit, dear. One day at a time.
Mrs Arnott.
I adore that hat and coat.
I meant to remark upon it last week.
I wonder if that imbecile
will be here again this week.
Kate, sshh!
No, when I said “imbecile", I didn't mean Ralph.
Evening, Mrs Arnott.
Kate.
No, I meant that other guy,
Kirk St Moritz or whatever he called himself.
I don't expect we'll be seeing him again.
I've met too many like him before.
They read the words "divorced“ and “separated"
and they walk in here expecting to find
a load of sexually—frustrated women.
If you would care to hang that coat of yours up,
dean
perhaps we could get started.
As I was just telling er...
— John.
— Yes.
As I was just telling John,
on the board you'll find a selection
of our forthcoming social events.
Perhaps you'd care to note a few of them
in your diaries.
The Halloween fondue at Mrs Haddock's
isn't definite.
She's on the verge again,
so I should pencil that one in lightly.
And it might be a good idea to have a rubber
handy for the vicars and tarts party as well.
The application forms are on my desk
for the Chopin concert.
Hey, gang!
Oh, God!
Tiger! Whoo!
Hey, John. Hey!
Ralphie! Looking good, my man.
Louise.
Hi.
We didn't think you'd be back.
Nobody ever does,
but that's the fascinating thing about me.
Yes...fine.
Well, since we are all here,
perhaps we'd better get underway.
Louise, the fat woman isn't here.
All right, I'm sorry! So the fat woman is here.
Yes, well...
Hi, everyone and welcome.
It's nice to see we're all here again.
Fine.
Well, now, before we start tonight, I'd like to
clear up a few little points from last week.
I got the impression that certain people
hadn't quite understood the purpose
of the 1-2-1 Club,
and others seemed reluctant to...
grasp the nettle, as it were.
I'd like to clear up a few little misapprehensions
before we go any further. Fine.
Now, the club is not here just to organise
all the fun events
and crazy evenings you see on the board.
No.
It is also an encounter group, yah?
Now...what do you understand by the term
“encounter group"?
Hm?
— Erm...
— Yes, Ralph?
Well, an encounter group means we er...
encounter things.
Good guess, Ralph.
What kind of things?
Erm...people.
It's a little more than that.
I think what you're trying to say, Ralph,
is that we are a symposium
of ideas and formulae
seeking greater emotional awareness
within the framework of viable spatial patterns,
by means of a sympathetic dialogue based on
interactive co—operation and mutual trust, yah?
— No.
— Good!
Good. Well, of course,
that is oversimplifying the matter.
But...
..let's all think about it.
Do we have to?
I think it would throw new light
on a few dark little corners.
Well, it's certainly opened my eyes, Louise.
Good! Fine.
Well, now...
let's all kind of...relax.
Let's all try and feel really laid—back.
Hey!
Yes.
Let's relax our bodies and our minds.
Feel free.
“Free" is our word.
You could relax more than that, Ralph,
if you tried.
Sorry.
We can all feel that warm atmosphere
of mutual trust and freedom
washing over us.
(Mouths)
There now.
Isn't that good?
Now, then, I thought I would start our discussion
off with one topic,
and then we could veer off in any direction
that the muse may take us.
And now that we are all nice and relaxed,
let's take as our theme...
suicidal tendencies.
Kate?
Oh, come on, Ralphie,
what are you trying to give us here?
All I'm saying is that sometimes
I think about her and it makes me depressed.
Well, sometimes I think about your wife and it
makes me depressed. I've never even met her!
What's that supposed to mean?
She was ugly, really ugly.
How can you know that
when you've never met her?
She came from one of them commie countries,
Bulgaria or somewhere.
She came from Poland.
Bulgaria, Poland, what's the difference?
It's well—known that the chicks
from the Eastern Bloc are ugly.
That's a stupid thing to say!
That's the sort of guy I am.
Do you know what they call pretty girls
in Poland? Tourists.
That's a bit below the belt, Kirk!
You'd better get used to it, Ralphie.
I never pull my punches.
Know what the other guys used to call me
when I was in the marines?
Dickhead?
They called me
"Straight from the Shoulder“ St Moritz.
If the truth hurts, tough.
I'll tell you something else that gets me down.
Plants.
Plants?
Yes.
Growing—in—the—earth, watering—can type plants?
Yes. Does that sound silly?
I'm not sure, really.
(Chuckles)
You see, when I was a child, I read a book.
Kirk's hoping to do that one day, aren't you?
It said in this book
that certain leading scientists believe
that plants have established
a system of communication.
They can actually talk to each other.
It's quite feasible when you think about it.
I mean, lots of people talk to plants, don't they?
Don't you ever talk to plants, Kate?
Well, I've said a few words
to that cabbage over there.
For the sake of argument,
let's say that plants do talk to each other.
Why should that worry you so much?
Oh, I'm not worried
because they talk to each other.
I just sometimes wonder
if they're talking about me.
Yes, it's a common problem.
When I was younger,
I used to have nightmares about it.
What, you saw yourself trapped in a grow bag
or something?
Why don't you just shut your stupid mouth?
Oh, Tiger!
Well, you know what a vivid imagination
a 10—year—old can have.
Mm.
My parents didn't understand.
They took me to see the doctor.
That's better than taking you to see The Triffids.
Let's move on, shall we...
before the cheese plants start gossiping?
— Kate.
- What?
Do you feel able to tell us any more
about yourself?
Personal anxieties, fears...
sexual problems?
No, not yet.
Oh, fine.
Well, just as soon as you feel ready, dear.
We don't want to push you.
When were you divorced?
— June '85.
— Oh, not that long ago.
And...October 1980.
— Well, you're not the only one.
— And...
— Yes?
— March '77.
You mean you've been divorced three times?
I can see why you're a teacher.
I mean, was there a problem...
Is it the same problem?
No, there was no problem, I just...
Probably just been through a sticky patch, Kate.
It's just a run of bad luck.
Sometimes I get very, very depressed
about the whole thing.
And I'm sure that everyone here
understands what you mean.
When I get depressed, I eat a Mars bar.
Well, there's a possible solution for you, dear.
One day, I ate 1! Mars bars.
Yes, well...
we all have those mornings
when we get out of bed on the wrong side.
You're obviously an emotional eater, Mrs Arnott.
The only thing you can do
is to form a strong and loving relationship...
or have your jaws wired together.
You people may find this hard to believe,
but even I have suffered from depression.
Hard to believe?
If I were you, I'd be positively suicidal.
No, you're not me, Tiger.
Do you er...see this?
Oh, I'd never noticed that before.
It's a dinky little thing, isn't it?
This was given to me by a very special little lady
in San Francisco.
That's the US ofA of.
That San Francisco?
She wanted me to have this cross
as something to remember her by.
Her last words to me were,
“I want you to have this cross
as something to remember me by."
This is made from Peruvian gold.
Still, it looks nice, Kirk.
I loved her. I wanted to marry her.
But there was this one big problem.
She couldn't stand the sight of you.
Nah, she worshipped the ground I lay on.
No, the problem was...
she was a nun.
Sister Maria In Gracias Isabella.
(Kate groans)
Or, as I called her, Candy.
We used to cruise the freeway together
on my Harley Davidson, helping the needy.
It's amazing how romantic a soup run can be.
Finally, we came to D Day.
D for decision.
She had to choose between Jesus and me.
And...the big guy won.
Oh, God!
That's what Candy said. I pleaded with her.
I said, "Baby, look at your life.
You wear a habit, a rosary, live in a convent.
Carry on like this, you'll end up a religious nut!"
She wouldn't listen.
Is there a bucket round here?
We said our goodbyes in a quiet little place
I knew down in the Latin quarter —
the Rock Rococo Club.
As we danced our last dance together,
it seemed that final Bossa Nova
would last for ever.
A bit like this story.
After she left, I became a recluse.
I hid away for four, five...
..no, longer than that, maybe a whole week.
But I don't want to talk about it.
Thank God for that!
Dear God!
The cafeteria's still open, you know.
Moving swiftly on.
John, when was the lowest moment of your life?
Right now, Louise.
This has been a day to remember.
This afternoon I discovered my ex—wife
has an identity problem.
She keeps thinking she's a leech.
Some men are simply bled dry.
I am being koshered.
I come out tonight
and I hear the parable of the go—go nun,
I meet a fully—grown man
who suffers from the Bill and Ben syndrome
and a woman who's been divorced from three
different men and thinks she hasn't a problem.
Bastard!
That's a rotten thing to say, guy.
Oh, suddenly you're standing up for Kate?
No, I meant the go—go nun bit.
I know I've got a problem.
I have to face that problem every bloody day
but I choose not to broadcast it.
Would you tell the whole world you had three
marriages break up because you're frigid?
(Louise gasps)
I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to...
You call that a problem? One hour with me...
Drop dead! See what you've done?
I said I'm sorry.
Did you never go and see
a marriage guidance counsellor?
Yes, my second husband ran off with her!
What did you mean, the Bill and Ben syndrome?
Shut up, Ralph!
This has been a most successful evening!
I'm sure you all feel a lot better, yah?
We've found a new atmosphere of trust
and confidence in one another.
We've cleared the air,
swept away our inhibitions.
And they're still open.
— Half a Guinness.
— Thank you.
— A margarita.
— Thank you.
And a double gin.
Would you like a tonic with that?
No.
Fine, I'll be...
Yes.
If you feel the need to talk about it, dear,
you can confide in us.
— I don't want to talk about it.
— No, well, we do understand.
Did your husbands try and force themselves
on you?
I don't want to talk about it, Louise.
No, well, of course,
it must bring back bitter memories.
Was there...physical pain?
God!
You're putting me on.
You mean you've never been to Acapulco?
If you fancy a weekend there, give me a ring.
I've got a private Lear jet standing
on the Tarmac at Gatwick airport.
You've got a private jet plane?
Don't be too impressed, Ralphie. It's an old one.
- Here you go, my man.
— God, I need this.
I tell you what you need even more,
and that's advice.
— Oh, really?
— Listen closely, Ralph, this goes for you as well.
Shall I tell you why you two are such failures?
- Why?
— Because you're both boring.
Boring, boring, boring.
Well, thanks very much for that, Kirk.
That's been very enlightening.
Look, you're a teacher. (Yawns)
And Ralph...
Well, Ralph's just Ralph. (Yawns)
He's got a point, John.
You've got to put a bit of spice into
your background, a bit of zap into your past.
How do you,
when there's no zap there to begin with?
You pretend. You lie.
Hey...
I'll let you two cats into a secret.
You know that story I told about meeting the nun
in San Francisco?
Vaguely.
Well...it wasn't true.
You're kidding!
No, no, that's for real.
Well, you certainly had me fooled, Kirk.
Natch. That's because I tell it with such heart
and sincerity.
Birds really go for that story.
They want to mother you.
Church of England chicks don't bite so fast,
but who's hurrying?
How can I put more zap into my past,
you know, make it more interesting?
If you were to tell a chick
you lost an umbrella on a bus,
that would make your past more interesting.
I did lose an umbrella on a bus.
In fact, I lost two.
That's interesting, Ralph.
What I don't see is how...
Why did you have two umbrellas?
Oh, no, different umbrellas.
Different buses.
Oh, I see. Look, what strikes me as odd...
One was a foldaway, telescope—type umbrella,
on a 137 from Clapham North
to the Crystal Palace terminus.
JOHN: Yes, I see...
And the other...
was a conventional steel—tipped type,
on a Green Line to Biggin Hill.
Well, that's cleared that up.
But now, Ralphie, the chick is hooked.
She wants to know more, like,
did you get those umbrellas back?
— No.
- Ah!
You don't tell her that.
Oh, I'm catching on.
I tell her I got 'em back,
tell her about all the forms I had to fill in.
She's yours!
— Is he for real?
— Who knows?
Anyway, Kirk, thanks for the advice,
but no thanks.
To be honest with you,
I don't think I could tell a lie.
Even if my life depended on it,
I would be incapable of lying.
That's something you'll have to get over.
When we leave here tonight, I'm going on to
one of my clubs and you are coming with me.
No thanks, Kirk.
Why not? Don't you like me, or something?
No, it's not that, it's just...
Well, I'm going on to see a lady friend.
She's er...
She's cooking supper for me at her flat.
Tell me more, tell me more. Who is this chick?
Well, her name's um...
Margarita.
— Is she foreign, John?
— Is she black?
Oh, I love black birds.
Well, I'll buy you a crow for Christmas.
She is not black.
Where did you meet her?
— She's from the school.
— Wha—hey—hey!
No, she's a woman,
a full—grown woman of3... 28.
Colleague.
You certainly play them close to the chest.
— You finished?
— Yeah, I'm fit.
— Are you ready, girls?
— Ready as we'll ever be.
What's happening, Ralph?
We're all going off to Kirk's nightclub.
What, all of you except me?
— You're going to Margarita's.
— That's right.
Aren't you coming with us, John?
My main man here is gonna meet
some chick at her flat.
A girlfriend from school
is going to cook supper for him.
Well, this is news.
Kate, could I have a word with you, please?
Why would you, of all people,
go to a nightclub with Kirk?
Going out with that imbecile is marginally better
than going back to a cold and empty flat.
You're going to your friend's place.
You're going to have dinner, drink wine, dance,
whatever.
You don't have to go back to a little room
with nothing but the telly for company, do you?
No.
And neither do I.
At least not for several more hours.
Enjoy yourself.
You too.
You can come with me, dear.
Ralph, will you give Kate a lift
in your motorcycle combination?
Oh, yes, of course. I'll have to move
some of my fishing gear first.
Wait a minute,
I think I will come to the club with you.
What about the chick?
She might have forgotten. I don't want
to go round there and wake her up.
You've made arrangements with her.
Well, very casual arrangements.
She's cooking for you.
Well, it's nothing special.
She said there was no food in the house.
So I'm saving her a lot of trouble.
Shall we go, then?
Aren't you even going to let her know?
— Let her know what?
— That she won't be seeing you.
No, don't ring her, guy. Let her wait and wonder.
That's what I do with my chicks
and they love me all the more.
You seem to be forgetting something.
John is a human being.
Oh, right, yeah.
Please, phone her.
Yes.
Oh, God.
She probably was only going to make me
a cheese sandwich.
It was very casual.
She's that kind of lady, you know.
Margarita, hi, it's John.
Would you be awfully offended if
I took a rain check on our date for tonight?
Well, it's just that a couple of friends and myself,
we're going on to a little club.
It's one of their birthdays
and I've really got to be there.
Thank you, darling.
Why you phone me like this?
You mad person!
You are nutcase!
I knew you'd understand, darling.
One day, they'll put you in a straitjacket!
You loony man!
All right, sweetheart. See you in the week, eh?
Crazy.
Crazy!
They're all crazy.
Was she OK?
Mm? Oh, yes, she's fine.
She's a very understanding person.
Well, I wonder what Kirk's nightclub's like, eh?
As if we didn't know.
Well, apparently, it's not some sweaty dive.
He says it's a rather sophisticated,
upmarket kind of place.
Yes, but Kirk is an habitual liar.
Well, he can't lie about this place,
cos we're going to see it.
If we don't get there soon, we'll miss the finals.
What finals?
The Miss Wet T—shirt contest. Wha—hey!
I People change
I Can't explain
I Like the weather
I One day sun, next day rain
I Whatever happened to the plans we made?
I Seems that they ended with the masquerade
I Life goes on
I Right or wrong
I Now it's all been said and done
I Dear John