- Previously on Mom... - You forgot to wear
the only diamond earrings you've ever had?
Where was the last place you saw them?
In the middle of a poker table.
Anything but seven.
Seven out.
No! That's my mom's bail money.
I can give you a coupon to the buffet.
Can I bet it?
- The money's gone. - Christy, it is time to admit
you've got another problem.
Why aren't you eating?
I just came from a Gamblers Anonymous meeting.
- Their food puts AA to shame. - Hmm.
One guy makes jambalaya with his own alligator sausage.
Oh, poor alligator.
So you probably don't want to hear about the baby lamb chops.
I do not.
But I'm glad GA's working for you.
The food's working, but I don't know about the rest of it.
Most of the shares are old guys talking about horse racing,
and the "good old days," when you could smoke inside.
Those were good days, Christy.
Damn, what I'd give to finish my ciggy
and stub it out in these mashed potatoes.
The thing is, in AA, we give up drugs and alcohol
'cause... holy cow, do we like drugs and alcohol.
But in GA,
I have to give up stuff I don't even have a problem with.
I can't play bingo.
Bingo. How is that gonna destroy my life?
I lost an aunt to church bingo.
There's a dark side to that game.
I'm not even supposed to flip a coin,
which frankly, is the only way to get my mom to do anything.
Look, you just got started in GA.
Y-You got to give it a chance.
I didn't just start, I got my 90 day key chain today.
You did? Congratulations.
For what? When I got sober for 90 days,
that was a huge accomplishment.
I mean, I wanted a parade.
And I'm not talking
three Shriners in a convertible,
I'm talking Al Roker pointing up at a giant inflatable me.
Sometimes I think your problem is low self-esteem.
Other times, not so much.
Yeah, well, I've made up my mind.
I'm gonna stop going to GA.
As it is,
I don't even have time for the things I need to do.
Like what?
Well, like...
I just don't want to go anymore.
There she is.
Show me that 90 day key chain.
Yeah, Mom, about that.
I think I'm actually just gonna...
Surprise!
Surprise.
Oh, my God.
We are so proud of you.
You had a problem, and you addressed it
with another program. It's inspiring.
You guys, this is so totally unnecessary.
That's what I said. I mean, when did we start doing this?
Seriously, this girl sneezes, and we throw her a party.
Shush.
I made a cake.
You made that?
You didn't just take it out of Marjorie's hand
when she walked in the door?
I made it from scratch.
Out of the box.
Maybe I don't know what scratch means.
-- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe -- -- www.addic7ed.com --
Let me get this straight.
Your mom made you a cake,
and that's gonna keep you in Gamblers Anonymous?
You don't understand.
She has never baked me a cake.
One birthday, she gave me a martini olive
with a candle in it.
That's so sad.
Not really, I got a little buzz off it.
I don't usually do this. I'm gonna give you a hug.
Aw. You're like a blanket right out of the dryer.
You know, if you're gonna stick with GA,
you might want to give it an honest try.
- I've been trying. - Oh. Have you shared?
- No. - Have you made any friends?
- No. - Do you have a sponsor?
Stop trying to trick me, just tell me what to do.
Any of the three things I just said.
Good Lord, it's like a Sizzler up in there.
Hi, I'm Christy.
Lucy. How you doing?
Okay, I guess.
I'm looking for a sponsor.
Geez, you mean me?
I got three days.
That new casino off Highway 12 is killing me.
- I haven't been there. - Oh, it's great.
The chairs by the slots?
Super comfortable.
I don't even have to bring my butt cushion.
I'm gonna see if there's any cornbread left.
Good luck.
I wouldn't shout "good luck" in here.
People get a little twitchy.
Oh, right. Sorry.
I'm kidding. Hi, I'm Ned.
Christy.
Saw you take a key chain yesterday.
How's it going?
Okay.
I mean... I'm not sure.
Can I be honest with you, Ned?
- I don't think I belong here. - Want to bet?
I'm serious.
I've had three major gambling incidents.
Three times in my whole life. Is that an addiction?
'Cause if so, then I'm also addicted to Intro to Algebra.
Hey, Mr. Munson. Whatcha doing?
Waiting for my friend who promised
to take me to my radiation treatment.
Oh, God. What kind of heartless friend forgets to...
Oh, my God, it's me, isn't it?
I am so sorry.
Time flies when you're hosing out a dumpster.
Can you give me, uh, 20 minutes to get cleaned up?
Well, let me check with my cancer.
What do you think, boss?
Mr. Prostate said we got to go.
For years I was just a racetrack guy.
Then the racetrack opened a poker club.
Which was convenient, until it cost me my job.
But... I figured, see, that was a good thing,
because it was obvious I was gonna make more money gambling
than I would selling retractable canvas awnings.
And then I took a second mortgage out on the house,
without telling my wife.
And when you get away
with a secret second mortgage,
then it's obvious that the universe is telling you
to dip into your daughter's college fund.
- Was that your bottom? - No, no.
That was a couple of years later,
when I was lying in the street
with a broken kneecap and my teeth scattered all around me.
Yikes, I thought that only happened in the movies.
No, it also happens in Oakland.
Um...
One of my bookie's "colleagues" beat me with a flashlight.
And then he kicked me, and he said,
"You still owe us the money," which to me seemed,
you know, a bit unfair.
Wow.
So I went to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting
before I even went to the dentist, and of course,
I should've gone to the dentist first,
because nobody could understand a word I was saying.
That was 22 year ago, and, uh, it saved my life.
See, that's the thing.
I sit in meetings and hear story after story like yours,
but I don't relate to any of it.
My gambling looked nothing like that.
Well, there are two types of gamblers.
There are... cucumbers and there are pickles.
A cucumber goes
to Vegas and loses a little money
or maybe even a lot of money,
and then goes back to a regular life.
A pickle goes to Vegas, loses everything
and then moves to Vegas.
I'm pretty sure I'm a cucumber.
You may be, but you got to remember
that a cucumber can become a pickle.
But a pickle can never go back to being a cucumber.
So how do I know which one I am?
You could try a little controlled gambling,
see how that goes.
A-Are you telling me to gamble?
Is this a trap? I...
If you can gamble a little and then stop,
well, more than likely, you don't have a problem.
But you got to be careful, 'cause if it triggers
a-a bigger binge, well, then you got to call me.
Okay. Mm-hmm.
I got to tell you, it's really weird
to take recovery advice from a guy who's drinking a beer.
Mm.
Hard cider, but I feel you.
How you feeling?
My advice? Don't get cancer.
Making a mental note.
Mm. What kind of car is this?
An '85 Firebird.
Whoo, oh, that is a sweet ride.
Yeah. It was in 1985.
Now it's 3,000 pounds of scrap metal and a cassette player.
Well, well, still, I appreciate you driving me.
It's the least I can do.
Well, I would argue the least you can do
is remember you said you would do it.
Again, sorry about that.
Want to make it up to me?
- We've been over this. I'm engaged. - Oh, no, no, no.
I'm thinking you could let me drive.
You're blind.
I am? Well, at least I'm still white and rich.
I don't think you driving is a good idea.
It's a terrible idea. I know that.
But right now, cancer is in charge of everything.
I'd like to be in control of something
for a couple of minutes.
Even if it's only an old Firebird.
Light pole dead ahead!
Oh!
Ah!
Ooh. Oh, what is this, a V-8?
V-6, and please, slow down.
I baked you a cake!
- What? - You're gambling? You had 90 days.
It's okay, this is called "controlled gambling."
You can't control anything.
And I've known you almost your entire life.
I bought ten scratchers.
I'm gonna do three of them and leave the rest.
Which will prove I can stop whenever I want.
This is insane.
This is like when I said I could drink on an airplane
because I'm not technically on planet Earth.
You're never technically on planet Earth.
Now back off. Ned from my GA meeting told me to do this.
Ned?
Okay, which one of you idiots is Ned?!
All right, I'm gonna have a meatball sandwich,
and then we're gonna talk.
She barged into my GA meeting like a cracked out giraffe
and yelled at the guy who's helping me.
I didn't yell, I don't yell. I don't have to yell.
You yell all the time.
Do you want me to yell? 'Cause I'll yell.
You kind of asked for that.
Look, I had my doubts about whether I need GA,
and Ned suggested I try controlled gambling.
Ridiculous, right?
- Well, actually, Bonnie... - Work with me!
Yelling.
When a newcomer is really struggling
with doubts about being an alcoholic,
I have suggested trying some controlled drinking.
Why wasn't that offered to me?
Because you came to your first meeting
on a stolen lawnmower.
You weren't there.
She didn't have to be. That story's legendary.
I heard all you were wearing were
go-go boots and a hockey jersey.
Is that true?
Yeah, Wendy, I got kicked out of a hockey game.
I couldn't find my car or my pants.
Over the past week, I've played lotto twice,
did a little online poker.
Even bet a busboy I could work an entire shift
without saying the word "enjoy."
So I went with mangia,
but it made everyone uncomfortable.
But the point is, none of it triggered me,
which proves I am not addicted to gambling.
Yes, you are.
Maybe Christy's right.
I mean, I know someone who got really drunk
on New Year's Eve, slept with her Uber driver,
and mistook a neighborhood raccoon for her cat.
She got herpes and rabies in one night,
but she's not an alcoholic.
There you go.
I'm the gambling version of her disease-riddled friend.
And later, if you do discover you have a problem,
- you know where to go. - Well...
everyone at this table can suck it.
I gambled three times. You keep saying that,
but you've always been a degenerate gambler.
What are you talking about?
By the time you were in third grade,
you were hustling drunks at pool.
That's 'cause someone used the bar at the bus station
as day care.
It takes a village, Christy.
And the syrup goes in the fridge
unless you also want to gamble with botulism.
"Refrigerate after opening."
It's like you want me to have a gambling problem
just so you can be right; you're rooting against me.
Rooting against you?
Did I not stand in this very kitchen
and spend ten hours making you a cake?
You are on your way to getting a law degree,
and if you're not careful you can kiss that dream good-bye.
You know what I think? I think all you care about
is that I become a lawyer so you're off the hook.
What hook? In your twisted mind,
if I become a success, then it won't matter
that you were the world's worst mother.
Well, guess what.
You'll never be off the hook
no matter how many terrible cakes you make.
- You said it was delicious. - I lied!
It tasted like salad dressing.
How does that happen?
We were out of milk.
- Whoa. - What?
It's a check for $5,432.
Is it made out to me? Did I sell my book?
No, it's an excess check.
What the hell's an excess check, and how do I get one?
It's left over from my student loan.
It's for school supplies and living expenses.
- Well, then give it to me. - No.
- You can't be trusted. No. - Oh, my God, would you stop? Ugh!
And FYI, no one is buying your young adult novel.
You're a decade late for teenage vampires.
And FYI to you, I changed it to teenage robots.
And one of them's transgender.
I mean, is Christy right?
Am I really so selfish that the only reason
I want my daughter to be a success
is so that I'll feel better about being a bad mom?
I guess it's possible.
I mean, I know I can be selfish.
And if I forget, I've got people reminding me
every ten minutes.
But I think maybe... this time it's about love.
Is that so hard to believe?
Something one could say in this moment...
is that I have indeed changed a little
in the last couple of years.
I do things for other people that don't just benefit me.
Like this ride to the doctor. Nothing in it for me.
Nothing.
Not even conversation.
Are you pouting because I won't let you drive again?
Yep.
Hi, Ned, it's Christy from GA,
and, uh, I'm in the parking lot
of that casino off Highway 12.
And I've got $5,000 in my hand.
So, anyway...
hope you're having a good afternoon.
And if you have a chance, call me back.
Okay, thanks. Bye.
Oh, screw it.
Mom, I need your help.
Don't think about gambling.
Don't think about blackjack.
Don't think about the Wheel of Fortune slots
with the progressive jackpot that's probably
six figures right now.
What if I just have a shrimp cocktail
and watch other people gamble?
That'd be fine, right?
I think it would be fine. Let's go!
I'm here. I'm here.
Oh, thank God.
Oh, I'm so proud of you for calling me.
You still got the money, right?
Show me the money. Where is it?
I put it in the trunk. It was talking to me.
Okay, don't take this to mean I don't trust you,
but I'm gonna go check if you're lying.
Mom, wait. You were right.
Go on.
I do have a gambling problem.
But only when I have money.
And since I so rarely have money,
it doesn't come up that often.
Man, if we'd been rich, we'd both be dead.
And what I said earlier was unfair.
You really were just looking out for me.
I realize that hasn't always been the case,
so I get why you'd have your doubts.
Wow.
You've really changed.
- And I haven't at all. - Aw...
I got here as fast as I could.
- Did she gamble? - She did not.
Good. Where's the money?
- In the trunk. - Allegedly.
I came as soon as I got the message. Did you gamble?
She did not.
Good. Someone has the money, right?
There are unconfirmed reports that it's in the trunk.
Go look if you don't believe me.
Of course I believe you.
Did we get here in time?
- Yes. - Geez, Mom, did you call everyone?
Yeah. I was really worried.
- Scooch over, I'm coming in. - Okay.
There's no room for me.
Wendy, since you're out there, go look in the trunk and see
if you can find $5,000.
- What? - Just do it!
You don't have to yell.
Thank you.
It means so much to me that you guys are all here.
- I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up. - Oh...
We're all screwups.
That's why we love each other.
No money back here.
- Christy! - Wait, found it.
I never doubted you.
Give it a quick count.
Hang on, guys, I got to take this.
Hi, Ned.
Turns out I'm a pickle.
Uh, Bonnie, I think someone's stealing your car.
Damn it, Mr. Munson!
- Hey. - Hey.
Did you try the bison tacos?
No, I filled up on the buffet at the casino.
- You gambled again? - Yeah.
Another first day.
Pathetic, right?
Not at all. I-I get it.
Thank God we have a place to go.
I know. And so convenient.
Right off the freeway, ample parking, five dollar tables.
- I meant GA. - Oh, right.
Focus, Lucy!
Hey, you want to be my sponsor?
I've only got one day myself.
But, uh...
But let me tell you something that really helped me.
There are two kinds of gamblers:
cucumbers and pickles.
-- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe -- -- www.addic7ed.com --