A few years ago I walked into a packed going-away party in the East Village, and walked out with a 23 year-old Haitian single mother with cute glasses, her natural hair twisted into coils. She thought the solution to all of her problems was a doctor in LA whom she knew she didn’t love. My solution was the numb feeling that had arrived with round number four. I didn’t think of her until I watched this again. Funny thing was I moved to Los Angeles a few years after that night and didn’t think of her once. It was just a moment. Don and Joan’s went one step further.