so, what do you do?
i'm a longshoreman.
i mean really too. starting monday, though, i'm doing something a little more glamorous. night cashier at a cafeteria.
honey - if i had the answer to that one, i bet i'd bore us both to death in half an hour.
thanks, mrs. givings.
i'll pass it along!
hi!
couple of minutes!
april, sweetheart. you were great. i mean it.
well.  i guess it wasn't a triumph or anything, was it?
take your time.
well, the thing is, i already said that we could. i mean, i just saw them out there and i said we would.
don't you think that's a little bit rude, april?
okay. okay. take it easy. i'll tell them.
i mean it, baby. you were the only person in that play.
we just never should've let you get mixed up in the damned thing.
you've studied for christ's sake.
sure. i just don't want you feeling bad about it, that's all. because it's not worth it. i mean, it's bad enough having to live out here among these damn people - what'd you say?
baby, it's okay.
april.
it strikes me, that there's a considerable amount of bullshit going on here.  and there's one or two things i'd like to clear up. number one, it's not my fault the play was lousy. number two, it's sure as hell not my fault you didn't turn out to be an actress, and the sooner you get over that little piece of soap opera the better off we'll both be. number three, i don't happen to fit the role of dumb, insensitive suburban husband; you've been trying to hang that one on me ever since we moved here. number four -
what the hell are you doing? come back to the car.
april?
look, can't we sit in the car and talk about it, instead of running all over route twelve?
okay. jesus, i'm trying to be nice about this thing.
wait a minute. i don't deserve this.
wait a minute!
wait a minute, god damn it!
you listen to me. this is one time you're not going to get away with twisting everything i say.
you know what you are when you're like this? you're sick. i really mean that. you're sick!
oh, yeah?
you in a trap! you in a trap! jesus, don't make me laugh!
don't look at me like that, april.
good morning, jack.
you wanted to see me?
oh, right, sorry. i thought i'd taken care of that.
absolutely, yes.
absolutely, yes, yes.
toledo. branch manager wants a revised brochure for the conference on "the knox 500." "it's just not efficient."
i don't even know what the knox 500 does.  do you?
now, if you'll look in the inactive file under sp-1109 you'll find copies of all the stuff we sent to the agency.  and that way we can trace the thing back to its original sources.
i hope you weren't planning on an early lunch.
good. i'll check on you later.
you know something? you're lucky you met me.
i can show you the ropes. there's an art to survival at knox. let me show you what i mean.
bring me the telephone would you? and two more martinis.
hello mrs. jorgensen. frank wheeler here. just wanted to let you know that i've had to send maureen grube down to visual aides for me. i'll probably need her the rest of the day.  okay? fine. you too.
that's because it doesn't exist.
you know what today is?
it's my birthday. i'm thirty years old today.
visual aides.
want to hear a real joke?
my old man worked at knox.
he was a salesman in yonkers. once a year he used to take me into the city for lunch. it was supposed to be a special, life-advice sort of occasion.
not really.  i used to sit there and think, `i hope to christ i don't end up like you.'
and here i am, a thirty year old knox man. can you beat that?
how `bout some air?
you ever been to paris?
maybe i'll take you with me.
i'm going back first chance i get. people are alive there.
all i know now is that i want to feel things. really feel them. how's that for an ambition?
mm?
well, i guess this wasn't what you had in mind when you went to work this morning?
sure, here.
no thanks, maureen. actually, i guess i'd better be cutting out, it's getting kind of late.
it's all right, i'll get the next one.
listen: you were swell. take care now.
why are you all dressed up?
what's all this about?
what we get for the house. what are you talking about? where are we going to live?
you're serious?
what's stopping us? well, i can think of a lot of things. for instance, what kind of a job could i possibly get?
oh, right.
no, i don't.
no, i know, i know. i just have a couple of questions, is all. for one thing, do you mind telling me what exactly i'm supposed to be doing while you're out earning all this money?
sweetheart, it's just not very realistic, is all.
listen: we decided to move out here. no one ever forced me to take the job at knox.
i mean who ever said i was supposed to be a big deal, anyway?
i was a little wise guy with a big mouth, that's all.
all right.  so, i'll have time. and god knows that's appealing. it's very appealing. and i mean, everything you say might make a certain amount of sense, if i had some definite talent maybe. if i were an artist or a writer.
and what's that?
okay.
why not? why the hell not?
i'm moving to paris.
intra-company letter to toledo.  attention b.f. chalmers, branch manager.  with regard to recent and repeated correspondence, this is to advise that the matter has been.  very satisfactorily taken in hand, period, paragraph.
we wholly agree that the existing brochure is unsuitable. to this end we have developed.
"speaking of production control"
september. october at the outside.
i just happen to think people are better off doing some kind of work they actually like.
no.  i don't think it's possible to discover anything on the fifteenth floor of the knox building, and i don't think any of you do either.
this one's on me.
you'll never guess what they eat in paris. you'll never guess.
snails.
actually, we have got some pretty important news.
you want to tell `em?
september.
what for? because we've always wanted to. because the kids are still young. because it's beautiful. shep, you tell her.
no. not exactly.
i'm going to study.  and i'm going to read and.  i suppose i'm going to finally figure out what i want to do with my life.
yes. while she supports me.  at least in the beginning.
the cost of living is dirt cheap compared to here, so we should be all right.
jesus, their faces! you'd think we'd told them that we were swimming up the yangtzee river or something.
you know what this is like, april? talking like this? the whole idea of taking off to europe this way? it's like the way i felt going up to the line the first time, in the war. i was probably just as scared as everyone else, but inside i never felt better. i felt alive. i felt full of blood.
and everything looked more real. the guys in their uniforms. the snow on the fields, the trees. and all of us just.  walking. i mean i was scared of course. but i kept thinking: this is it. this is the truth.
when?
what's up?
yeah?
well, we've never met, but -
you wouldn't have believed this guy.
he's perfect presidential material in the worst sense. a million dollar smile and about three pounds of muscle between his ears. "frank, this is a crackerjack."
horse's ass.
the time they finish that stretch of road, they'll have to start all over again.
who'd like some sherry?
i think i can do that.
no, i'm not.
i can look into it. maybe recommend someone.
i work for knox business machines.
nope.
i sort of help sell them, i guess. i work in the office. actually, it's sort of a stupid job. i mean there's nothing  you know, interesting about it or anything.
don't be. i agree with everything you said, john. we both do. that's why i'm quitting the job in the fall and we're taking off.
how about some fresh air, john?
if that's all right with you?
me too.
we're not running.
so maybe we are running.  we're running from the hopeless emptiness of the whole life here.
that's true. maybe we are just as crazy as he is.
no.
this is just fine, sir. fine.
well, sir, it sounds exciting.
bart.
do you happen to remember an earl wheeler?
out of yonkers?
my father. he worked at knox almost twenty years.
no reason you would have heard of him.
there's something i should have mentioned earlier.  i'm leaving the firm. in the fall.
no, it's not another outfit --
i appreciate that, but it's not money. it's more of a personal thing.
i guess so.
knowing what you've got, comma, knowing what you need, comma, knowing what you can do without, dash. that's inventory control.
i got to dig myself out here.
huh. yeah, i guess so.
yeah. maybe.
what's the matter?
i don't believe you. did something happen today or what?
what?
what are you talking about?
what? jesus.
jesus.  how long?
you didn't say anything.
i know you are.
okay. we'll figure it out.
12 weeks. so we have time.
i love you too.
actually.  something kinda funny happened the other day. i did some dumb little piece of work to get myself off the hook with bandy, and suddenly i'm the bright young man.
it's incredible. i knocked this thing off in a couple of minutes and now they want me to join their team of `specialist' salesmen.
it'd be funny, if they weren't talking about so much damn money.
well, it's kind of ironic, don't you think?
not yet.  it's just an option, that's all. with the money they're talking, things could be different for us here. we could get a better place. travel.
look, the point is - we could be happy here. at least for a while.
it is possible that parisians aren't the only ones who know how to lead interesting lives, april.
no. like i said, it's an option.
maybe we let that be my business.
it's too hot for this. i'm going to get wet.
come on, april. of course i do.
what the hell do you mean i don't try? i support you, don't i? i pay for this house. i work ten hours a day at a job i can't stand.
bullshit! i'm not happy about it. but i have the backbone not to run away from my responsibilities!
is it alright with you if i go to the bathroom?
what the hell are you going to do with this?
you're damn right!
listen. listen to me. you do this - you do this and i swear to god i'll -
when did you buy this, april? i want to know!
that's now april! don't i get a say?
how can it be for me if the thought makes my stomach turn over?
we can't have the baby in paris.
all i know is what i feel. and anyone else in their right mind would feel the same way.
christ! the fact that you even put it that way! you make it sound like having children is a punishment.
and you're sure about that?
april, you just said our daughter was mistake. how do i know you didn't try to get rid of her, or michael for that matter? how do i know you didn't try to flush our entire fucking family down the toilet?
but how do i know april?
april, a normal woman, a normal sane mother doesn't buy herself a piece of rubber tubing to give herself an abortion so she can, go live out some god damn fantasy.
all i'm saying is you don't seem entirely rational about this thing.  and maybe we should get someone to help you think about it.
april if you need a shrink, it'll be paid for. obviously.
i guess maybe it was.
we can be happy here april.  i can make you happy here.
we've had a great few months. it doesn't have to end.
we're going to be okay.
what?
no. i suppose it isn't.
wanna dance?
think she'll be okay?
you okay?
you'll be alright?
it's beautiful out.
you know what today is?
it's twelve weeks.
look, this has been kind of a crazy summer. we've both been under a strain. i mean i know you're upset.
okay. what do you feel like talking about?
i don't think i suggested we talk about everything all the time. my point was, we've both been under a strain and we ought to be trying to help each other as much as we can right now.
i mean god knows my own behavior has been pretty weird lately.  i mean, as it happens.  there is actually something i'd like to tell you about.
i've been with a girl in the city a few times.
a girl i hardly even know. it was nothing to me, but she got a little carried away. she's just a kid.  anyway, it's over now. it's really over. if i weren't sure of that i guess i could never have told you about it.
baby, i don't know. i think it was a simple case of wanting to be a man again after all that abortion business. some kind of neurotic, irrational need to prove something.
why don't you say what you feel?
in other words you don't care what i do or who i fuck or anything?
don't you see. don't you see, i want you to care.
oh, now don't give me this shit! you know god damn well you love me!
you know god damn well!
actually, there's been a change of plans.
i thought maybe it was obvious.  april's pregnant.
suppose we just say that people anywhere aren't very well advised to have babies unless they can afford them.
now look, i think that's just about enough out of you. i mean, who the hell do you think you are? you come in here and say whatever crazy god damn thing comes into your head and i think it's about time someone told you to keep your god damn -
not well, my ass! i don't give a damn if he's sick or well or dead or alive, he should keep his fucking opinions in the fucking insane asylum where they belong!
you.  fucking!
okay, okay, don't tell me. don't tell me; let me guess. i made a disgusting spectacle of myself. right?
and everything that man said is true. right? isn't that what you're going to say?
but you're wrong.
because the man is insane. he's fucking insane! do you know what the definition of insanity is?
the inability to relate to another human being. it's the inability to love.
no. wrong. you're not crazy and you do love me; that's the point.
oh baby listen --
fuck you, april. and fuck all your hateful, snotty little -
oh, no, don't worry, i can't be bothered! you're not worth the trouble it'd take to hit you. you're not worth the powder it'd take to blow you up. you're an empty --
you're an empty, hollow fucking shell of a woman. what the hell are you living in my house for if you hate me so much? huh? will you answer me that? why the hell do you fuck me? what the hell are you carrying my child for?
why the hell didn't you just get rid of it, when you had the chance? because listen. listen: i got news for you. i wish to god you had.
april, listen, i --
april, listen, i didn't mean that. honestly; i didn't mean what i said.
please come back. what're you doing out here?
good morning.
oh. it doesn't really matter - uh.  scrambled, i guess, if it's easy.
it's kinda nice having breakfast without the kids for a change.
yes. that's right, yes.
big deal.
haven't i? well.  i think this whole thing is about knox getting ready to buy up one of these really big computers, bigger than the `500'. did i tell you about that?
well, you know -- basically it's just a. a big, fast adding machine. only.
instead of mechanical parts, you see, it's got thousands of little individual vacuum tubes.
well, i don't know, it's -- yeah, i guess it is sort of interesting, in a way.
guess i'd better be getting started.
listen, though, april; this was really nice.  i mean it was a swell breakfast. really; i don't know when i've ever had a -- a nicer breakfast.
then you don't -- you don't hate me, or anything?
okay, then.  so long.
jesus, shep. i couldn't even understand half the things he told me. he said the fetus was out before they got her here. he said they had to operate to take out the whatdycallit, the placenta and now she's still bleeding. he said she'd lost a lot of blood before the ambulance came, and now they're trying to stop it, and he said a whole lot of things i didn't get, about capillaries, and he said she's unconscious. jesus.
what the hell do i want to sit down for!
my god.
she did it to herself, shep.
she did it to herself.
no. no. no.