hey baby i hear the blues a-calling

FRASIER | 1.04 - I Hate Frasier Crane

"are you," unspoken como se dice in the deliberate three-seconds-long pause, "projecting."

"i would've choked the life out of a man thrice my size to have had someone call me intriguing."

"oh, right. ah. well, i figured i should get another opinion. about houseplants. i'm not much of a plant guy. more of a computer guy."

"you know, i did copy and paste clinical notes yesterday, using the keyboard rather than the--" his hand gropes for an imaginary mouse. "a shortcut, they call it. is that right? and i must say, i did feel a certain unexpected sophistication -- you must be riding that high each day!"

"this place looks like the british museum and ikea had a baby."

"might i remind you that i cohabitate this space with my ageing, blue-collar father." so all the questionable interior design decisions can, and will be, attributed to martin. "our household is a democracy -- with all the drawbacks of the system."

"developing... infatuations, for those closest to you, particularly when those infatuations are formed during periods of high stress -- is perfectly normal, roz. expected, even." his tone flattens. eyes avert. "and often without any real foundation."

"intriguing young fellow, i mean. just say you're strange."

"but you look as though you're at the sort of age where such descriptors could inspire insecurity." though he's no longer certain this is a child, and not some sixty-year-old with dwarfism.

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That was a pretty solid impression of their Grandpa.

"how did you hear about that, david?"