Selfie (2014): Season 1, Episode 2 - Un-Tag My Heart - full transcript

Social media can be confusing
if you're super old and dumb.

Why did you just favorite that
tweet? She called you ugly.

Because she's a hater.

I love my haters. They make me famous.

- You're not famous.
- I am in the Twitterverse.

I see. And your favorite thing

is when people insult your looks?

Well, it's not my favorite thing.

Yet, you're favorited it.

Favoriting an insult is a way
of showing it doesn't hurt you.

But it should hurt you.



And maybe if I was still ugly, it would.

Having haters online
means that you made it.

Okay, but having haters in real
life means that people hate you.

I'm sorry, but did you
see what she was wearing?

I have cotton briefs that cover more.

I can't believe
H.R. hasn't cited her

for inappropriate office attire.

Please... she's probably
slept with everyone in H.R.

How do you think she got to
be the number-one sales rep?

You're killing me!

Can't be that funny.

It's like, "hey, there,
sweet potato. I'm on to you.

"You're not a French fry,

stop showing up with my burger."



You're hilarious. You should be president.

Eliza, may I speak with you
for a moment in my office?

- Charlie, hold my calls.
- Uh, no one called.

Good. Let's keep it that way.

I can't control who calls the office.

Charlie, I beg.

Okay.

Okay.

What do you think you were doing out there

with that guy from business affairs?

Guys like it when you laugh at their jokes

and make them feel powerful.

President... like that
guy could be president.

You're right. Oh, God, you're so smart.

You know, you should
be on the supreme court.

Well, I do consider
myself fair and impart...

That is not gonna work on me.

And while we're at it, do you
think that these tight tights

and those short shorts
and those high high heels

are appropriate office attire?

You sound like
Joan and the fuggalos.

Eliza, this isn't the Twitterverse.

You have to think about how you
are perceived in this office.

No, I have to think about how I'm perceived

outside this office, which is hot,

which is what helps me sell
drugs to repressed, old doctors,

which is how I got to be
the number-one sales rep.

Well, people are gonna
get the wrong impression.

When you dress like this
and you act like this...

People are gonna assume

that you're sleeping with
president sweet potato.

I am sleeping with him.

I sleep with him all the time.

- Since when?
- Let me check.

Oh, here.

First text from Freddy... "You are hotter

than the bottom of my
laptop"... 2 1/2 weeks ago.

2... 2 1/2 weeks ago, and
you're already intimate?

"Intimate"?

Is that how old people say "sex"?

No. Yes.

Eliza, this is your
second office relationship

in the short time that I've known you.

And I use the word
"relationship" very loosely.

Okay, don't get all slut-shamey on me

just 'cause you don't get my generation.

It just so happens we're
a lot more cas about sex

than you baby boomers.

I'm not a... I'm not a baby boomer.

Yes, you are.

I fall squarely within the
parameters of generation "x,"

thank you very much.

But, Henry, this is one area

where I'm not sure you
should be advising me...

I mean, you're so out of touch,
you're not even on Facebook.

Hey, I'd rather be out of touch

than touching everything that walks.

See?

It hurts when girls
don't laugh at your jokes.

Eliza, you... you asked me

to help you cultivate
meaningful relationships.

Is that what you think
you're doing with Freddy?

Could be.

Do you two ever make advance plans?

Kind of.

_

Have you and Freddy ever
been on an actual date?

Basically.

_

Come on, Eliza.

Have you and Freddy even
been outside together?

For the most part.

Does his wraparound terrace count?

I hate to break it to you, but I'm gonna.

You are what Jamie Foxx and
other men of my generation

refer to as a Booty call.

And if your behavior persists,

that is all you will ever be.

Whatevs.

If I wanted more, there
could totally be more.

But the truth is, I wasn't so sure,

so I decided to feel Freddy out

after he was done feeling me up.

Welcome.

Hey, uh, what do you think
of our relation thingy?

I think it's awesome.

How many favorites my
"sweet potato" tweet got?

Six.

But seriously, would
you ever want to, like,

go outside... With me?

Hmm. Never really thought about it.

Guess I, uh, kind of
like what we have inside.

Hey.

Want to take an after-sex pic?

Sure.

Eardrops.

Hear-drops. No more
teardrops with eardrops.

Don't fear drops.

The ear pops. The pain stops.

Sir? Uh, my parents are in town.

Charlie, it's back to square one now.

I don't hear my voice...
I only hear your voice.

Should we just these "my
parents are in town" drops?

Does that sound like a good name?

Just kidding. You can go now.

But you really did ruin
my train of thought.

Okay.

Eardrops.

F...

What are you still doing here?

Here? Work. I'm working.

What are you doing here?

Oh, well, we are
pre-partying down in the lab.

You coming tonight?

It's Sharon from I.T.'S birthday.

Oh. Uh, no, I got work to do...

Plus, uh, I don't really know
Sharon, so I wasn't invited.

Nobody knows Sharon.

She's just an idea.

I'm sorry. I am really drunk.

Um, everybody knows Sharon,

and she sent out a Facebook invite.

- Oh. I'm not on Facebook.
- Wait.

How do you know who from
high school's gotten ugly?

You're just walking around,
not knowing who's ugly?

I-I have my suspicions.

Uh...

Henry's not on Facebook. You know that?

- What?!
- I'm on... I'm on Linkedin!

Did you tell them I'm on Linkedin?

- Oh, don't make it worse.
- No.

- Uh, no.
- I have a Linkedin profi...

All right. Fine.

Let's see who got ugly.

Wow.

Smelly Terry from camp
really turned it around.

Is that his wife?

My God! She looks like a boat-show model.

Maybe 'cause she's standing on a boat.

Mm. Smelly Terry has a boat.

Geez.

My first friend is my
mom, just like in life.

Facebook... mildly entertaining,
certainly not all-consuming.

♪ Who will save your soul ♪

♪ if you won't save
your own? ♪

Yes! I've always felt that.

Okay, you were right.

Freddy doesn't want to go outside with me.

He just likes what we have inside,

which means you and
Jamie Foxx have a point.

Are you okay?

Mm. Yes. I was just up all night working...

Here at work, on work stuff.

Well, work on me.

Should I be trying

to get Freddy to take me
more seriously or whatever?

I mean, I'm fine with the
Booty-call status for now,

but at some point, I'm gonna
want to be first lady, you know?

To president sweet potato?

Not necessarily.

I just want to know that I'm on the ballot.

First ladies aren't on the ballot.

Well, it's just an honor to be nominated.

Oh, God. If you're serious,

stop responding when he texts, "'sup?"

If he wants to know 'sup,

he can stop by your desk
and form a full sentence.

Totes.

Ally.

No.

He needs to know 'sup.

No.

That was for my mom, I swear.

You have to break the cycle.

Freddy will never see you any differently

if you keep sexting and sucking on pens...

What are you doing sucking
on that pen like that?

That is toxic.

Sorry.

I thought Freddy was looking over here.

That's exactly what I'm talking about...

Not everything you do
should center around Freddy.

You have to foster other interests,

think about other things.

What were you doing before
you two got together?

Oh, um, I-I think I was doing...

Troy?

Oh, God.

You need to become the kind of person

who doesn't spend all her time
thinking about the opposite sex.

So, like, a lesbian?

No. Just a person with varied interests.

Oh. Like, what interests?
Can you be more specific?

Like, any interests...

Science, politics,
woodworking, books, nature...

Literally anything besides fixating on men.

Find a hobby. Join a club.

I knew just where to start...

With my neighbor Bryn, who ran
a book club for adult virgins.

Bryn?

Girl, I haven't seen you in forevs.

I saw you at the mailboxes yesterday.

You dropped all your Victoria's
secret catalogs on the floor,

even though there's a
recycling bin right there.

You should have said hi.

So, I've been thinking a lot about you

and your interests and your hobbies,

and it's weird we aren't closer,

given how much we have in common.

How much who has in common?

You and I.

Like, that book you're reading,

"The curious incident of
the dog in the night-time"...

I'm reading that, too.

- You're reading?
- Yeah.

Yeah, with the dog

and the night-time and the curiosity

and, like, the incident
and the dog of it all.

I'd love to talk way
more about it sometime.

- You would?
- Yeah.

There's a lot of stuff you
guys don't know about me.

What do you think, Bryn?

No one's ever asked to be
in your book club before.

Be at my place tomorrow night, 8:00 P.M.

Oh, my God. Thank you.

I will definitely be there

instead of having sex with someone.

Thanks.

Okay.

While I was picking up a book,

Henry was trying to resist the one book

that's impossible to put down.

He was figuring out what every grandmother

had figured out four years
ago... Facebook is crack.

Go on and turn up

that bass-line selector!

Really, Charlie? Palm
Springs with a fake patois?

Me know
your parents not in town.

Henry? We're facetime'ing.

Oh, yeah, how about that?

Um, so I just wanted you to
know that I took your advice,

and I joined a book club.

I'm at the salvation army right now

looking for an asexual
ensemble to wear while reading.

What do you think of this?

Shouldn't you be reading the book

instead of worrying about what to wear

while reading the book?

Well, I'm eight pages in. It's not good.

Oh, but I forgot to tell you...

I haven't responded to Freddy all day,

and he texted me like
five times last night.

It's like, desperate much?

Why does my mom keep poking me?

Hey, are you... are you
on Facebook right now?

Okay, so, I might have
also taken your advice

and engaged in some light Facebook-ery.

Oh, that is so cute!

Look at you, using Facebook on your desktop

like it's 2011 again.

You know there's an app...
Right?... for your phone.

Really?

On my phone... What a waste of time.

Well, have fun.

Just don't start stalking your exes.

You don't want to go down that rabbit hole.

Trust.

Oh, I trust... Me not to do that.

Okay.

Well, read your book. Bye, Eliza.

B...

But it was too late.

Once the option of stalking
your exes is presented,

- you can't not do it.
- Oh.

- It's like crack.
- Ohh.

It's weird how much stuff is like crack.

Olivia had a baby?

What's that?

Why's my name... Why am I a baby?

What?

No, no, no, no.

No. No.

No, no, no, no, no, no. No, no, no. No.

Undo, damn it.

Undo.

You undo, damn it.

She's not.

Did you guys already start?

I got hung up at goodwill.

You look amazing.

Sorry if I smell like dead people.

We all do.

That's how you know it's vintage.

Okay.

Ah, ah, ah.

No cellphones at book club.

Silent, please.

I'm sorry.

- Homemade pop-tart?
- You made these?

It's really not that hard.

You just need your standard
flaky pastry recipe,

a double boiler to make the filling.

I did chocolate hazelnut
and raspberry minted walnut.

Then, you know, a fluted cutting wheel,

parchment, and, of course, baking sheets.

But they also have them at gelson's

and sometimes even rite aid.

Or is that not the point?

Okay, ladies, let's get
this book club started.

I'd like to throw it to Bryn.

Bryn?

I would like to begin

by expressing how struck I remain

by Haddon's use of language.

Why is your bookmark
only like two pages in?

Oh, uh, well, actually,
it's eight pages in,

so no spoilers.

I knew she didn't read the book.

Give me that pop-tart back.

Eliza.

Is this a "Jerry Maguire" moment?

I have been in this book
club for three years,

and she gets a "Jerry Maguire"
moment on her first night?

Uh, Henry, what are you doing here?

Is it that she completes you?

No, it's that I tagged myself

as an ex-girlfriend's
breast-feeding baby on Facebook.

Did somebody die in here?

Could we... Can I...

Yeah.

There's a...

- I don't want to say, "I told you so."
- But you told me so.

There. That's done.

Now, please, untag me.

Untagged.

Thank you!

Thank you.

Maybe she didn't see it.

No. Yeah. She definitely saw it.

You get an alert.

An ale... An alert?

Why would they do that?

To keep track of the pervs?

See, this is why I didn't
want to join Facebook.

Because you knew you'd act like a perv?

J.K.

Oh, just text her "J.K."

No. No.

More impersonal communication
that can be easily misconstrued

is not the answer.

That's how I got into this mess.

- I'm going in.
- Wait.

Henry, I think these girls are on to me.

And truth told, I hated the book.

And hanging out with these nonsexual,

farm-to-table mini-grandmas

is not keeping my mind off
Freddy, who keeps texting me.

Eliza, my ex thinks I
have a lactating fetish.

Can we regroup on this?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

Hey.

Thanks for agreeing to see me, Olivia.

Henry, what's going on?
You broke up with me.

Three years pass.

I haven't talked to you since then,

until you tag yourself as my
breast-feeding baby on Facebook.

I know it's weird.

That's why I wanted to
come over here in person

to explain that it was an accident.

I didn't want you to think I was...

What?

That you were thinking about me?

Don't worry.

No, no.

I was thinking about
you, just not in that way.

In what way, then?

No, in an, um, "I wonder how she's doing.

I hope she's well," way.

Oh, well, I'm great. Yeah.

The minute I realized you
were never gonna care about me

as much as your job, I moved on.

I met a really great guy.

- Great.
- And you?

- You look good.
- Oh.

Last time I saw you,

you were rocking those frosted tips.

I frosted one tip.

Because you loved Mark McGrath.

I didn't love Mark McGrath...
I admired his resilience.

Mm.

Pop culture asked him
to leave, and instead,

he rose like a Phoenix
from the ashes of Sugar Ray.

Ohh.

I take it you're still single.

Yes, yes. For the moment, I am.

Um... Better get cracking, though.

According to Facebook,

every single person I
know is married with kids.

When did that happen?

Probably when you were at the office.

After Bryn's book whores kicked
me out of their nerd club,

I had no choice but to eat my feelings,

- which were covered in...
- Mochi. And kiwi.

Just five gummy bears... Red ones.

One green.

And some butterfinger.

Charmonique? Charmonique, it's me.

Eliza, what's with the getup?

Oh, I was just trying to change my image

and be seen as something
other than a Booty call.

Oh.

Have a kid.

No one will ever call your Booty again.

Just kidding.

But seriously, it is a deterrent.

Not to everyone.

But to a lot of people.

I'm man poison.

Well, it's cheat day.

Got to get to it.

Cheat day. Of course.

You have to give in to your urges

if you're gonna stay on the diet.

Can I get a half-cake batter,
half-mint chocolate cheesecake?

If I have sex with Freddy right now,

it'll give me the strength
to not have sex with Freddy

for the rest of the week.

Guuuh!

Besides, if texting Freddy
was the wrong thing to do,

I'm sure the universe would give me a sign.

It didn't even hurt.

I'm fi... aah!

The irony of falling into a manhole

while texting Freddy was not lost on me.

Eardrops. Fear drops.

Career drops.

"For the baby you'll never have

because you spend too
much time at work" drops.

Henry felt alone, but instead
of reaching out to a friend,

he reached for his wireless mouse.

Eliza...What happened? Are you okay?

Oh, it's not a big deal.

I just got hit by a smart
car, dislocated my tailbone,

fell down a manhole, fractured my pelvis,

banged my head, got a
concussion, saw the white light,

ran into Tupac and Biggie, who squashed it.

I knew they would.

Boy, I'm glad you're okay,
'cause...I was at work,

as usual, and I saw that you were hurt.

And I just, um, I wanted to...

- Freddy?
- Hey.

- What are you doing here?
- Yeah, what?

Just came by in case they needed
someone to identify the Booty.

That was legitimately funny.

Here.

I brought you a charger. Dead phone, right?

That is why you weren't returning my texts.

How about, "Eliza, are you okay?

I was worried"?

Sorry.

Um, I've just been kind of
busy with other interests.

Ow. It hurts to wink.

Subtle.

So, uh, are they gonna
let you go home soon?

I could, uh, you know, give you a lift.

Uh, sure.

I mean, I have an aircast on my foot

and I have to be woken up every hour,

but as long as you
don't put all your weight

on my fractured pelvis...

Oh. I-I didn't mean to hook up.

I just thought I could
drive you to your place,

walk you to your door.

- Outside?
- Yeah.

Unless you know another way to get there.

No. No.

Outside is great.

I love that you want
to walk outside with me.

Ow. Thumbs-up hurts, too.

You don't have to signal me...

Observing all this in tandem with you.

Ow!

Okay.

Well, I will leave you to it.

Rest up, Eliza. Feel better.

Oh, hey, uh, Henry.

You know you tagged yourself as the bedpan

in my hospital pic, right?

Damn it. I hate Facebook.

I tried to message you on Facebook.

Did you take down your account?

- That's exactly what I did.
- Oh, man. Why?

Well, I'm an old-fashioned guy.

I've decided that from now on,
if I want to check up on people,

I'm gonna do it the old-fashioned way.

Well, thanks for checking up on me today.

You're most welcome, Eliza.

Now get some sleep.

- And, Eliza.
- Yeah?

I'll call you in an hour
to wake you up, okay?