It was the Easter of '83 and Boston was in the middle of a heat wave. It had gone up to a humid 75 degrees; almost tropical in the month of April. The patrons at the bar were not complaining though. It had been a harsh winter and this was a very welcomed happening. The bar's windows were opened, letting in the fresh air that was almost as fresh as Carla Tortelli's zingers. A person could detect little beads of sweat on another's face instead of air coming out of their mouths. Men and women alike were wearing their t-shirts without coats and felt comfortable.
"Happy Easter, everybody," Norm greeted as he stormed into the bar.
"Norm!" Came the usual reply from the good people of the bar.
"Norman," then came Diane's normal yet awkward reply. Did she always have to have the last word?
"What's up today, Norm?" Coach asked already pouring him an ice cold beer.
"Well, it's Easter, Coachie. Christ had risen, and so won't my blood alcohol level in the next couple of hours!"
He parks himself on his usual stool while Coach slides the sudsy mug into his hands. He takes a sip while noticing how quiet it is. Even Cliffie isn't coming up with any facts. The only person who is talking is Diane. Norm may be a whiz at math but he couldn't figure the tragedy of Ernest Hemingway for the life of him, which was Diane's topic of the moment. Although there was one part he did understand, Hemingway's love of drink. Norm smiles to himself and has a sip for the poor old soul.
"Hey, Normie," Carla says as she sneaks up along side of him. "I tell you something. My blood pressure will risen like Christ if Diane doesn't shut her yapper!"
"Carla," Sam says in a condenscending tone. He looks over his shoulder and realizes that Diane has heard her for she is looking right at them.
"See," Sam seethes at Carla. "She heard you."
"Sam," Diane says walking over to the bar. "Can I have a screwdriver and an o...an o..."
"What?" Sam asks.
"An o...an o..." Diane still couldn't get the word out and by this time the whole bar leaned in to hear what she was about to say.
"Speak up, honey," Coach says sweetly, trying to pull her along.
"Oh I can't!" Diane exclaims. "I can't ask Sam to make me an orgasm!"
Well that just gets everybody going. The whole bar erupts with laughter at not only the situation but with how she said it. Diane Chambers was afraid to ask Sam Malone to make an orgasm! Even Sam couldn't help but laugh about it. Diane pouts and stomps into the office, slamming the door shut. Sam was about to yell at her for going in there but he felt sorry for her.
"Hey, Sam," Carla says, getting smug. "You know, I'd never be afraid to ask you to make me an orgasm..."
"Hey, leave the poor kid alone and do your job," Sam says getting back to work. "Oh shoot, I got to call the beer distributer!"
That was when he picked up the phone to hear someone crying on the other line. He realized immeadiately that it was Diane and his heart started to break. She was on the phone with her mother and he couldn't help but overhear what was being said.
"It's so hard, Mummy. Nobody likes me here and I just don't fit in!"
That's not true, Sweetheart, that's not true. I like you.
He gently hangs up the phone because he can't take it anymore. The thought of her being upset was making him upset.
"Can't get through, Sam?" Coach asks, snapping Sam out of his sadness.
"No, I..."
Diane walked out of the office right then. Sam was amazed that the phone call was over and that Diane regained composure already.
"Are my drinks ready?" Diane asks, very professionally.
"Yeah," he said, still marveling at her strength. Carla didn't have anything on her, he decided. He put the drinks on the tray and grabbed her arm so she couldn't go anywhere right then.
"Listen," he tells her softly. "You never have to be embarrassed to ask me anything. Everyone is welcome here and I would never want anyone to feel bad in my bar."
"Okay," she said, managing a smile before she went on to deliver her drinks.
Keep on smiling, Sweetheart.