Line: Who am I going to have dinner with?
Context: Julie has just broken ups with scoundrel Ron. Earlier that evening she was confident that it was the right decision, and fueled by white wine and the support of someone she saw as a friend and mentor. But now…
Okay, now she knows she was right to end the relationship. But still…
The practicalities of being single are beginning to sink in as her buzz fades. She’s checked her infant daughter, whom she loves but who requires a lot (especially now that she’s fired her stern nanny), and who will frankly be an impediment to starting a new relationship. Already Julie “who eats dinner at four is unconscious by nine and goes to work at dawn.” If nothing else, Ron understood that schedule. She thought him smart and funny, and respected him as a director. And he was right there—a known quantity and handy. Somebody with whom to talk shop and eat dinner. She was used to his flaws, however exasperated she was with them. Julie is looking at a future where at best after a period of loneliness she would have to get used to a whole new set of baggage with another person, and that brought on Ron nostalgia. It’s not like he would start hitting on her whilst wearing a dress.
This is the flip side of the nuclear rebuke from Lesson Nine (“I don’t take this shit from friends, only lovers”), it’s the miserable fallout. But it is what had to happen to push Julie down the road to a better man. And along the way, she has her family, friends, and fans.Usage: As frequently as necessary, as infrequently as possible.