“You always hurt the one you love / The one you shouldn’t hurt at all,” often “with a hasty word you can’t recall.” Cherishing someone can slide, through mendacity, ignorance, or neglect, into taking them for granted.
How did Kevin and Allison fall in love? Kevin Can F**k Himself hasn’t given us the backstory of its central pair yet, and although I’m not yet antsy about it, I am increasingly curious.
But I ask because Kevin Can F**k Himself has intentionally dropped a few lines of dialogue already about how impossible it feels for Allison to leave Kevin, and I would love to know what brought them together now that Allison so desperately wants to break them apart.
The fact that he anticipates sympathy and pity sex in response to this horrible attempt at romance, rather than the weariness and disgust such a blandly self-effacing statement actually inspires from Patty, is the masculine presumption that Kevin Can F**k Himself is devoted to dismantling.
While picking up his Oxy prescription, Patty — who we learn also lives in the dank, gray single-cam place that we know Allison does — is approached by pharmacist and former high-school classmate Terrance , using her salon as a front, and hiding the cash payments in a hollowed-out library copy of Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha.
Patty resents how Allison “can make nothing to do with you all about you” , while Allison points out that Patty has never stood alongside Allison against Kevin, Neil, or Pete, not even in a superficial display of girl-power solidarity.
Allison trusts Patty with her “beachy waves” and her admission that she’s going to see Sam at his eight-year-chip AA meeting, and Patty comes clean about how she barely tolerates Curt.
Patty’s phone call to Terrance, and the fact that she was in the pharmacy when the bust happened, could attract the attention of the cops who were pointedly looking at her as she sat on the sidewalk with Curt.
• I did not enjoy looking at the burnt pig and I hope they got it out of the backyard.