The atelier at Valentino, some vague time in the spring of 2016, a much more reasonable time to be alive.
FRED: Aw, shit.
JENNIFER: What? Did you sew over your finger again?
FRED: [looking inside a box with concern] No. I accidentally ordered this truly insane shower curtain last week when I forgot I’d already taken an Ativan and I took another Ativan and then I got on Amazon. I sort of hoped it might be okay when it showed up.
JENNIFER: It’s not?
FRED: [lifting it out of the box] It’s not.
JENNIFER: Oh no. Are those…grommets?
JENNIFER: It’s festive?
FRED: It’s awful. I can’t hang this in my bathroom.
JENNIFER: Maybe there’s something we can do with it.
FRED: Like what?
JENNIFER: I KNOW. We were just saying Sarah Jessica’s look for Parsons was too boring.
FRED: I’M NOT GIVING CARRIE BRADSHAW A SHOWER CURTAIN!
JENNIFER: Well, we’d make it into something first, Fred. And of course it would have to go over something. What about….a pinafore?
JENNIFER: We’ll tell her it’s “directional” and “futuristic.”
JENNIFER: She is so nice. You know she’ll wear it.
FRED: Is that immoral, to trick her into wearing my shower curtain?
JENNIFER: What if we call it recycling?
FRED: Okay, sold.