Heavyweight - #19 Joey

Episode Date: November 1, 2018

Joey recently had a very bad day, all due to awkward misunderstandings. So now, he's enlisted the help of Jonathan "Debonair" Goldstein and Jonathan’s friend Gregor to redo the day and set things right. Credits Heavyweight is hosted and produced by Jonathan Goldstein. This episode was also produced by Kalila Holt, Peter Bresnan, and Stevie Lane. Editing by Jorge Just, with additional editing by Alex Blumberg. Special thanks to Emily Condon, Flora Lichtman, PJ Vogt, Saidu Tejan-Thomas, Grace Hawkins, and Jackie Cohen. The show was mixed by Bobby Lord.  Music by Christine Fellows, John K Samson, Blue Dot Sessions, Bobby Lord, and Y La Bamba. Our theme song is by The Weakerthans courtesy of Epitaph Records, and our ad music is by Haley Shaw. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Call 1-866-531-2600 or visit connectsontario.ca. Please play responsibly. Hi, John. Okay, if I were to plan a surprise vacation for us, where would you want to go? Did you say vacation? Surprise vacation. It could just never happen with my work schedule. Like, that can never happen. Where would you want to go? Why would I want to go?

For fun in the sun. Listen how stressed you sound. The idea of actually being on vacation with you. Nice idea. It would be a vacation with a Johnny. It would be a sleication because we'd do everything on a sleigh. We'd dash through the snow and, I don't know, like check our phones and argue occasionally. You'd hang up on me.

And I'd start the show. Ba-dum-bum! From Gimlet Media, I'm Jonathan Goldstein, and this is Heavyweight. Today's episode, Joey. As a young man, whenever conflict arose, my go-to move was to roll up into a fetal ball and pray to go unnoticed. Of course, this only made matters worse. Case in point, one afternoon while riding a trolley, I fell into a daydream and missed my stop. Anyone else in my position might have yelled, I missed my stop, or open the door, please. But in imagining all these trolley-riding strangers

turning around to stare at me, my mind went blank. So I decided it might be simpler, draw less attention, if I just jumped off. As I landed onto the street, I heard a high-pitched scream that I would later realize was coming from me.

Instead of drawing less attention, I was now center stage. The trolley conductor skidded to a halt, and all the passengers ran to the windows to watch as I painfully crawled into a nearby bush. Once in the bush, I hid, waiting for the trolley to leave. leave. For a young Jonathan Goldstein, the cost of staying silent that day was two twisted ankles and the loss of my pride. Hey, Joey. Hey there. It's awesome to hear from you. This is young Joey, and he recently had a bad day that forced him to realize his fear of being seen, his fear of speaking up, was exacting a far greater cost than a mere double ankle injury. It was ruining his life. And so he's reached out for help, from me.

And just never get myself in a situation like this again. Joey is 22 years old, and the lead-up to his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day begins right after his art school graduation, when he moved into an artist's loft in downtown L.A. Living that downtown city life, kind of living a communal living style. The downside was that the loft had bedsheets for walls and six roommates. But the plus side?

The loft had bedsheets for walls and six roommates. Six super cool roommates. But the plus side? The loft had bedsheets for walls and six roommates. Six super cool roommates. A DJ, a doll maker, a photographer, a guy who, quote, trimmed weed, and super coolest of all, a podcaster. And I pictured these cool artist types having great parties

and a lot of cool people over, and all the artists in the L.A. scene would come through, and I was going to come in and hopefully fit in immediately. But Joey didn't fit in immediately. He never felt comfortable just hanging out with everyone, never knew what to say. And so he ended up spending most of his time alone in his room, rehearsing icebreakers.

I like your tattoo, he'd repeat to himself. Your tattoo, I like it. Sweet tat, he'd say, pointing limply at the mirror like a socially crippled Travis Bickle. Unable to come up with anything that felt right, paralysis set in. Joey began spending all day in his room, a shadow behind a bed sheet. They'd all be in the living room right next to my room, hanging out, watching a movie,

drinking, hanging, doing their thing, and I would be in my room just, like, making people uncomfortable by not, you know, being out there. Joey had been living in the loft several weeks when he realized just how isolated he'd become. One day, while waiting outside the bathroom, he ran into one of his new roommates. She was like, oh, hi, what's your name? Oh, um, where do you live? I was like, uh, here?

I live here. Eventually, Joey began avoiding the loft altogether. He'd spend every day wandering the streets, only returning in the evening. When I was back at my house at night, I would sneak into my room and then make sure I didn't drink too much water so that my bladder was empty so I wouldn't have to leave my room to pee. My new goal was to just be as unobtrusive as a roommate as possible, be invisible. So in this time, I would just try to spend all my day out of the house,

out on my rollerblades, which I had also recently taken up. Everyone needs a hobby, and Joey found one that provided both good exercise as well as a way to free himself from the oppressive yoke of human dignity. And so it was while rollerblading that Joey discovered his new home away from home, the pizza parlor. The pizza parlor played cool music and had cool art on the walls. It even served cool pizza.

There was one shaped like a marijuana leaf and others shaped like circles. But because Joey was Joey, even a simple thing like ordering pizza was a challenge. And so, he rehearsed his icebreakers. I found myself making sure I could have something to say, like preparing something for the quick interaction while I buy my pizza. Like what kind of thing?

I don't know, like if it's raining out, I would have something clever to say about that. Give me an example of the clever thing that you would say when it was raining. I'd say, oh man, bummer, this is not rollerblading weather. Okay. Like, I would, or, I don't know what I'm trying to say. Slowly, Joey began making social inroads, even managing to earn himself a nickname, that rollerblading guy. His fantasies of fun and friendship

with his bohemian loft buddies were over, but his fantasies of fun and friendship with his bohemian pizza parlor buddies had only just begun. I had planned on continuing to visit there and making these friendships grow and hopefully progressing them to real-life friendships outside of the shop. And so every morning, Joey would blade straight to the self-service refrigerator

that housed the day-old dollar slices. I pretty much exclusively ate pizza from that moment on. For all your meals? Pretty much. There was definitely days that went by when it was just pizza. How many slices a day were you eating? I'd say four or five. Two for breakfast and then

stick them in my backpack for the rest of the day. What were you doing for fruits and vegetables? I occasionally got the veggie slice. And that was Joey's life. Eating za, rolling blades, and waiting for old man scurvy. Until one terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. January 14th was like every other day.

I woke up to go get my pizza. I headed into the shop and unfortunately I only found pepperoni in the fridge. Joey is a vegetarian and so, without having prepared anything clever to say like, pepperoni pizza?

Oh man, bummer. Pepperonis aren't vegetarian. He instead said nothing and tried to just rollerblade back out the door without anyone noticing. But he'd only bladed a couple blocks when he saw a familiar face biking towards him. And it's one of the pizza chefs.

So I just thought he was going to, hell, I don't know, I thought he was going to say, what's up, man? Let's hang out. What's your name? Well, let's, you know, I thought he was just interested in me. So I was excited to see him biking towards me. And I took off my headphones to greet him. And the first thing he said is, don't come back. I said, excuse me? He said, you're taking slices. I said, what?

And then it clicked. Flipping through the dollar slices and then abruptly leaving in silence looked fishy, like Joey was stealing pizza. And I was kind of like panicking talking to him, like I could feel, I could hear the panic in my voice and stuff, but I didn't know what to say. So I kind of just, I was kind of speechless and I, you know, didn't have the confidence to keep fighting. Okay. Yeah. And then he, to keep fighting. Okay. Yeah, and then he biked away.

I started crying on the streets, and I must have looked ridiculous rollerblading down the street while crying. At that point, it was a terrible day. It became horrible, as well as no good, and very bad, when Joey, crying on the street, received a phone call bearing more bad news.

The roommates had been kind of talking, and they used the words, I'm getting under their skin. The roommates found Joey's silent, sneaky ways unsettling. They wanted him out. I like went and got my stuff. And I don't know, I basically moved out in that moment. I like just left without seeing anybody. And I kind of ran away. and I kind of ran away. As the day came to a close,

Joey called the one person he always calls, the person he's leaned on his whole life, Elise, his twin sister. She gave me the same advice that everyone did, which is just, you know, go talk to them, be normal. But I don't know. I mean, I never was able to take that advice from anybody. Coming from her, though, it was especially, I felt especially bad. He was, like, almost in tears telling me this story.

Elise knows Joey better than anyone, and he's relied on her socially his entire life. When he started dating, Elise introduced him to her friends, and when he was too anxious to attend family functions, Elise would go in his place. And he told me about how he cried, which is always... He doesn't cry that often. You could tell it was a big deal that he expressed that he cried about it.

And he told the whole story, and I was laughing so hard because it's a really funny story, and I wanted him to see that it was funny too. And he could see the humor in it, but he was also pretty clearly devastated. When I ask Elise what's so funny about her brother crying on the phone, she makes a pretty strong case, casually eviscerating him in the way only a loving sister can. Him in his rollerblades and often, like, funny-looking tank tops, his, like, creeper mustache and his mullet.

Definitely just the look of him. Hang on a second. He has a mullet? Full mullet, full creepy young child mustache. And his shoulders and arms look strong, but they're small. And same with his legs. His legs are shockingly skinny. They do have an incredible shine to them, I will admit. Does he apply ointments? I'm not sure that's ointment. I'm guessing that's just his oily self.

I don't want Joey to have to wait years and years like I did just to know the sweet joys of uncrippling unabnormality. So I asked Joey's oily self what he most wants out of all this, and the answer he delivers is pretty to the point, almost like he's rehearsed it. I want to say sorry that I wasn't able to leave my room. I wish they knew how I felt, basically. But when I put forward my action plan for Joey to fix his bad day by re-rollerblading through it, re-rollerblading back to the pizza parlor

to clear his name, and re-rollerblading to the loft to apologize for being such a creepy, sneaky roommate, I can hear the beads of sweat squeak out of Joey's hairline and saturate his mullet. Right. Yeah, I'm definitely...

Yeah, I've definitely been meaning to, but the prospect is pretty scary. Just mentioning it, I got nervous for sure. Joey still wants to be invisible. But decades of experience have taught me that oftentimes, the more invisible you try to make yourself, the more visible you become. So if I have my way, Joey will no longer have to hide in the metaphorical bush like a young, metaphorical Jonathan Goldstein. After the break, helping Joey to stop spinning his wheels. FanDuel Casino's exclusive live dealer studio has your chance at the number one feeling, winning. Which beats even the 27th best feeling, saying I do.

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Okay, hold the line for a moment, Joey, all right? Sounds good. Hang on. I'm practicing my witty retorts. Don't do that. Okay. During the ad break, while you were loading up on unbelievable deals, I was considering the full extent of Joey's dilemma. As much as Jonathan

Debonair Goldstein wanted to help him, the truth is Jonathan Stuart Goldstein is actually a lot like Joey. And so I made a phone call to an old friend, a man whose example and critical feedback, some might say overly critical feedback, have helped me to become the animalis socialibus I am today. Happy, confident, out of the shrubs and loving it. And I was hoping he could work the same magic on Joey. Joey, this is my friend Gregor. Howdy. Hi.

So Joey was living in this loft and he... Gregor is the exact opposite of Joey and me. In any given social interaction, he's never afraid to stand out. Never afraid to say the wrong thing. Case in point... Was Johnny kidding when he said you were wearing rollerblades? No, I am a rollerblader. But so you rollerbladed into the store wearing your rollerblades?

That's right. I have these very vivid memories of being in Central Park and seeing these people, mostly grown men, on rollerblades with that folded hands over the lower back and their body bent forward, like zipping around in like a Lycra skin suit. The big giant grin as they gasp for breath and like goggles on. You got all that out of your system? I hate rollerbladers, and I hate everything

about rollerblades, but I think most people don't have the courage to ask for help. It takes a very big man to ask for help. Okay, so the guy wants the rollerblade, fine. Since Joey feels most comfortable when he's rehearsing social interactions, I suggest we do some role-playing. Joey plays

himself, and Gregor plays the pizza shop owner. After ten minutes deliberating over his character's name, Gregor decides on Carmine. Please, call me Carmine. All right, stop. Just trying to add a little depth to the character here. No, don't do that. Once I finish offering some helpful direction, we begin.

Okay, so you're the owner. I'll do the foley work. I'll make any necessary sounds, okay? Joey, you're coming into the pizza parlor. Tingle, tingle. Hey, um... So, it's been a long time. I don't know if you heard.

I... I had a bit of a... Joey trails off. Even in a simulation, his nerves get the better of him. I try to inspire him with more Foley work. Tingle, tingle. The place is starting to fill up a little, so you might want to spit it out.

Tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle. Oh, my God, it's like Radiolab. Suddenly, a monkey came in. Gregor. Call me Carmine. The whole duration of this shoot, I need to be in character. I'm like Daniel Day-Lewis.

I will only answer if you call me Carmine. Why did I even have you be the shop owner? Why wasn't I the shop owner? I could be your son who's got like bigger dreams. I don't want to spend my whole life flinging pizzas. You're derailing this. Dad, I got big dreams. I want to get into real estate, commercial real estate. I want to lease laundromats. See, I'm not like you. You're really. I want to have a self-storage unit. They're very profitable. Don't you see? Now we're gelling as a team right at the very end. As you start to fade us down,

you can't even hear what I'm saying anymore. Sure, Gregor was taking none of the work seriously, but Joey was enjoying Gregor. And in his own way, Gregor was enjoying Joey. It looked like Gregor was in. I noticed that you like to sit very close to the gate. Yeah. Gregor and I meet at the airport for the flight to see Joey in L.A. While squatting on the floor, staring fixedly at the gate,

Gregor shares some insider tips on air travel. Because when they say extra time getting down the jetway, you're allowed to run past those people. Ha, ha, ha. down the gateway? You're allowed to run past those people. You're allowed. See, I could easily outrun that little girl in the purple. Anyway, Johnny, stick with me. I'm going to show you how to board this big bird. That's what I say to the pilot when I board the plane.

Let's bring this big bird down, brother. That way he knows I'm a member of the fraternity of aviation. Once we've boarded, running down the jetway like a couple of giggling idiots, Gregor regales me with stories. The time Lou Reed threatened to put an ashtray through his head. No, he didn't. Yeah, a big heavy glass one. The time a taxi driver told him he had eyes like his dead brothers.

That's a terrible story. The time all dozen or so members of the Wu-Tang Clan squeezed onto his living room couch. Then come the aviation stories. All the flights he's been on where people have died. But then there was another flight I was on when someone died right next to me. And they were literally doing the thing on the PA where they're like,

is there any doctors on board? And I was like, I'm kind of a doctor. How are you kind of a doctor? I'm a very good diagnostician. Look, we're on 25 RL. It's one of my favorite runways. Gregor and I rent a car and meet up with Joey at his favorite coffee shop. From here, we plan to head to the pizza parlor, get him unbanned,

and then go to the loft so Joey can apologize to his former roommates. Morning, morning. Nice to meet you. Hi, how are you? Hi. I'm good. Nice to meet you. How are you? As well as being rollerblade footed, Joey's just as chopstick-legged, mustache-lipped, and mullet-headed as his sister Elise had cautioned. Did it take you a while to decide what you were going to wear today? Joey seems anxious, so I ask him, Joey, are you anxious? But before he can answer, Gregor steps in.

Johnny, let's take it from here. You don't want to make the guy nervous by asking if he was nervous. Why don't we go around in a circle and each say a member of the Wu-Tang until we get to the whole nine? With his idiot's game, what Gregor's really doing is distracting Joey, protecting him, in this Joey, protecting him. In this case, protecting him from me. Ready? Okay.

I'll start. The RZA. The JZA. Um, WZA? Stop. There's no JZA. There's the JZA, the genius. Genius, okay.

Stop number one. The pizza parlor. Is this the place? What time do they open, 11? Oh, I'm getting nervous My stomach is jumping Oh, wait, here, Joey, I have something for you, just in case As Joey's mentor, I know he runs a pretty good chance of choking

So I prepared him some notes during my flight Okay, here you go, read this You guys are like family to me, and when you accused me of theft, I... No, no, try it slower. You guys were like family. Oh my god, here we go. Go ahead. You guys were like family to me, and when you accused me of theft, I mishandled the situation. I became discombobulated. I should have defended myself. Told you I'm no thief. I became discombobulated. I should have defended myself.

Told you, I'm no thief. Although we want to offer Joey help, it's important that he do this on his own. No Gregor, no Jonathan, no Elise. We'll be there with cue cards and emotional support, but ultimately, Joey needs to enter the pizza shop and make his case solo. We're going to let Joey shine. Yeah, I mean, I think like...

Should I bring your shine box, Joey? Are you getting the reference to the shine box? That would be a... You guys got a lot of references, I don't know. Have you seen Goodfellas? Do your Joe Pesci for Joey, just to loosen him up a little. Dad was one tough Irishman. I put his head in a vice.

Three days until his eyeballs popped out. head in a vice three days until his eyeballs popped out. Get two vegetarian pizzas. I instruct Joey to order pizza and kombuchas for his roommates. This way, the pizza parlor crew will see he's not just a dollar slice guy, but someone capable of committing to an entire pie and a vinegar and bile-based beverage. It'll show personal growth. Just have fun. Just relax. Be yourself.

Enjoy it. Joey swings open the door and rollerblades inside. Remember the rollerblading? This whole time, Joey's been wheels down, wearing his blades. You might want to rewind a few minutes and re-listen with that image in your mind. And it's not just the rollerblades. Joey is also wearing

a wire. So standing outside, Gregor and I can eavesdrop on how things are going inside the parlor. Do you want to hear? I can't stand to hear. While Gregor paces back and forth on the sidewalk, I cup an earphone and listen as Joey rolls up to the counter. Hey, how's it going? Joey is greeted by a pizza chef. Yeah, I don't know if you remember me. I used to come here all the time. I was kicked out of your shop a couple months back for stealing slices.

I was accused of stealing slices. I totally know why you thought it was me because it looked like it. I came in. Gregor and I watch nervously through the storefront window. Oh, he's blowing it. I rushed him, Zane. Joey isn't mounting a defense, and he isn't offering a counter-narrative. Instead, he's exhibiting a level of mealy-mouthery not seen since a young Jonathan Goldstein tried to explain to a trolley

conductor why he was hiding in a bush. But as Gregor and I bicker over whether to walk inside and roll Joey out the door like a dessert trolley full of flaming horse manure, we noticed something. I know it's weird that it's been so long, but I just felt really bad. I was really embarrassed. Really? I'm sorry. Oh, she's being really nice. You saw someone come in with roller skates? I remember that day. I was working that day. Not only does she remember that day, but she also remembers Joey. There was a guy who came in several times.

Yeah, I see. I think that was me. Kind of remembers Joey. There was a guy who came in like several times. Yeah, no, I see. I think that was me. Kind of remembers Joey. I came in. I'm a vegetarian. I saw that you guys only had pepperoni slices. So I was like, oh, not for me, and I just turned around. Totally looked like I just grabbed one and... Since you didn't do it, you know, you don't have anything to apologize for. Yeah, I just want to make sure

you guys don't think I did it. Okay, cool, yeah. If he was willing to come back to face his accusers, she says, he probably didn't steal the pizza. And with that, Joey orders his pies and kombuchas. With our faces pressed against the window, Gregor and I watch with amazement as Joey waits for his order while engaging in some completely unscripted repartee.

Cool song, he says. Totally, she says. This band is so cool, he says. Yeah, she says. We didn't prepare Joey for any of this, but here he was, riffing and scatting away like some kind of improvisational jazz cat. Carmine would have been proud. Thank you very much. And, tingle tingle, Joey emerges from the restaurant, holding our pizzas aloft like trophies. Joey! Oh, you did it! Oh my god, I'm shaking, I'm shaking. You did a great job! Despite his fear of saying the wrong thing, Joey had managed to put himself out there and stumble his way through.

Joey, that was great. You really did it? Yeah, you really like, and you did it by yourself. We didn't have to go in or anything. That's awesome. I really, really was nervous and I felt my leg completely shaking. I thought she was going to look down and just see my leg shaking like it.

Okay, one to ten, how do you feel? Did you wrestle the bear? Because I know I still have to go to the loft, it's, you know, the relief hasn't come,

but... After the break, Joey tries rolling up a much harder hill, apologizing to people he actually knows. Those people you live with, they actually know the real Joey. I mean, maybe they didn't like the real Joey, but they knew who you were. No, I don't think they did. I mean, I hope they didn't.

Oh, yeah. Do you think it's a good sign that the roommates did not respond? No, no, to be honest, I'm pretty nervous about that. Joey had tried to contact his former loftmates via group text to let them know he'd be coming by to talk. But as we stand on the street in front of the building, our kombucha bubbling and vegetarian pizzas congealing. Joey checks and rechecks his phone. Not a single one of his former roommates has responded.

Not even, like, any response is not a good sign. But maybe that's better than, like, responding by saying, I'm not interested, right? The loft is on the second floor behind the metal gate, and there's no doorbell. All right, let's figure out how to get into this fortress. There's no drainpipe to shimmy, no fire escape banister to reverse ollie. All we can do is wait for someone to come in or out.

Gregor fills the time with yet another aviation story. When I was going through the TSA, the lady was like, could you pull your pants up a little bit? You just told me to take my belt off, and now my pants are falling down. You want me you pull your pants up a little bit? You just told me to take my belt off. Now my pants are falling down. You want me to pull my pants up? Which is it? You really get told to pull your pants? I get told that every time I go through the TSA. Who wears a belt with a pair of shorts? Me. You wear a belt and shorts. Yep. I never heard of that. How do you think I keep them up? I think someone's coming. Thankfully, we're interrupted.

Thankfully, we're interrupted. I think we're totally right. Yo, how's it going? One of Joey's old roommates emerges. He's a hip young man who, if not wearing a straw pork pie hat and carrying a gondola paddle, is certainly giving off that vibe. A Venetian boatman vibe. Joey, foregoing all social foreplay, dives right in.

Yeah, I'm here because I want to apologize. I don't know if you got the group text. Oh, no. Yeah, I just wanted, I felt really bad about how I left things here, so I brought some pizza and my friends here. Okay. Joey gestures over to his friends, two balding middle-aged men slumping behind him

like bald scarecrows stuffed with muesli. Hey. Hi. Okay. All right. Well, this is really awkward and a surprise. Right. I was just going out to my car.

Okay. The boatman isn't very receptive, but Joey persists. Is anyone else home if you want to ask if they are okay with me coming up? Right back. Okay. Thank you so much. No worries. Is anyone else home if you want to ask if they are okay with me coming up? Yeah, I'm okay. Okay, thank you so much. No worries.

It's taken all of Joey's courage to return to the place where the coolest art kids in LA live, and he's still being denied entry. As Joey stares in silence at the steel door that's just clanged shut in his mustachioed face, I struggle to come up with something positive to say. I think you handled yourself well. I'm extremely nervous right now. I don't feel good about how this is going. Upstairs, the gondolier is saying to his roommate

something along the lines of, hey, remember that silent roller skating weirdo we kicked out of our art loft? Well, he's downstairs. With pizza. And his two gay dads. But then... Yo.

Hey, what's up? Hi. How you doing? Hi, I'm Zach. Hey, Zach, nice to meet you. I'm John. Zach is the unofficial head of the household, the guy who takes care of all the square, normie stuff, like throwing out expired cottage cheese and paying the rent on time.

He's bearded and shaggy. He turns to Joey. Joey stares down at his rollerblades and starts mumbling explanations. Yeah, I just thought, I mean, I didn't think it was just like, I just thought, like... I haven't heard this much mealy-mouthing since, I guess an hour ago, when Joey was at the pizza parlor. Zach looks at Joey skeptically. His arms are crossed. Nonetheless, Joey soldiers on.

I just feel really bad about kind of how I left things here. Yeah, I know that I wasn't the best roommate, and I feel really bad and just kind of uncomfortable about, like, just, you know, even just how you guys think about me. But I just wanted to apologize and make things right. There were things, like, that bugged me. Here we go. Whereas the pizza chef had been impressed

with the mere fact Joey had returned, for Zach, that bugged me. Here we go. Whereas the pizza chef had been impressed with the mere fact Joey had returned, for Zach, that wasn't enough. You had your headphones on a lot, and you had noise-canceling headphones. You were just, like, in your world. He launches into a laundry list of grievances. Didn't clean the bathroom, and I was just like, dude. Joey ignored everybody, never cleaned up after himself, never even washed a dish. The amount of rent, or who's paying what, or why are you paying her and not paying us?

The worst thing Joey could imagine was happening. He was being seen, and told that he'd always been seen. He'd put all his effort into trying to become invisible, and absolutely no effort into doing his share of the chores. That's why his roommates wanted him out. They'd seen him visibly not cleaning the loft, visibly not taking out the garbage, trying to hide, but not really hiding at all.

Taking advantage of. And that's what I was like, whoa, whoa, whoa. If ordering a pizza had given Joey the Jimmy legs, Facing Zach was giving Joey the Joey leg, a name I've just coined for a condition in which one's entire body becomes one single Jimmy leg. That is, a Joey leg that won't stop Jimmy-ing. He's like a liberty, you know?

But while Joey is Jimmy-ing, he isn't folding. He's not running away. But it was just the way that it was done. Yeah. As Zach finishes speaking, Joey maintains eye contact. And what's more, as the L.A. breeze whips up the hindquarters of his mullet, he does not fall prey to his lifelong crutch. Silence. Without notes, without witty-ish rejoinders,

he responds. All this stuff, like the not paying rent on time and just all the chore stuff, all that stems from this shyness, this, like, the weirdness, and, like, just feeling uncomfortable to, like, I don't know, be in the public space, kind of, just because I'm weird and shy

and I can't blame it on anything but myself. I mean, it's all me. It's like my own thing. Zach looks at Joey. I wish I was more able to be friendly with you guys. He sees him struggling and his face softens. I understand, like, having

social anxiety, having issues where you're like, you feel something that's strangling you in a position where you have to converse or whatever like I can understand that yeah like I only wanted to just be friends with you guys I appreciated awkwardness is just a step along the way to vulnerability and being vulnerable allowing yourself to be seen is the only soil from which friendship can grow. I love your funky style. And what better fertilizer than a mutual love of the mullet?

I've been contemplating a similar mullet as yours, but I don't know if my hair would work as much as yours. You have a different volume. As Zach and Joey wax on about the beauty of Joey's ape drape, another loftmate appears in the stairway. Nice to meet you. Hi, I'm Joey. You guys want to come up?

Sure. Yeah, if that's okay. That's great. Thank you. Holy cow, this is a really big space. It's looking good. Joey leads Gregor and I on a tour through the old audio cassettes and dummy heads, past the kickboxing bag and vinyl collection,

and ends the tour in a truly MTV Cribs kind of way. This was my old spot. At his old bedroom, where the magic happened. And by magic, I mean where Joey slept on the floor, wrapped in unwashed blankets. This is where he used to stay. Did you have a mattress? Joey breaks out the pizza and kombucha, and we all gather by the hot plate for a toast. You're supposed to actually look up,

look at each other's eyes. Cheers. Thank you. Appreciate it. L'chaim. Cheers. To communication. Yeah.

God, that stuff's terrible. Wow. The aftertaste gets you a little. After we choke back our kombucha, I suggest a symbolic gesture. Hey, do you want to wash all the glasses? Yeah, I do. I do. Oh, my God. This is totally ridiculous.

You're going to use soap and everything. Soap, too. Just as we're about to leave, Gregor decides he'd like to use the bathroom. And whereas a couple of shrinky and sneaky violets like Joey and me might just slink off looking for it, Gregor does not. Might it be too much of an imposition if I was to leave a little urine in your toilet on the way out? By embracing the awkwardness of life, acknowledging that we are creatures who require toilets,

Gregor somehow makes things less awkward, at least for himself. Gregor has mastered something that Joey is still learning, the art of saying, here I am, even when peeing into a toilet, while wearing a lapel microphone. You're welcome. Come back. Thank you. I'll be back. Chill out, you know. I'll be back.

But, yeah, take it easy. Thanks, Zach. Yeah. Catch you guys a little later. Come back. Thank you. I'll be back. Take it easy. Thanks, Zach. See you guys a little later. Adios. After leaving the loft, there's only one thing left to redo. Hello? Joey phones up his twin sister, Elise. And this time, he isn't crying.

It was so good! It was so cool. Yeah, I think he genuinely forgave me. And I did it all on my lonesome. No, you didn't. You needed so much help. Okay. Well, after I got the help, I did it on myself. You know, I mean, but now I just feel like I can do it by myself. I am really proud of you, though. I know that takes a lot.

It did. It takes a lot for me. Yeah, you know more than anyone. Your proudness feels good. I'm not surprised that Elise is proud, but I'm taken aback to see that Gregor looks proud, too. Proud of himself, of course, but also of Joey. So once Joey gets off the phone,

Gregor offers up some fatherly advice. I understand what it is to be young. It's a tough phase. Until you're about 45, life is really difficult. Okay. And then from there on in, it's all just sitting in one of those soapbox derby cars rolling down the hill to your senescence and eventual death.

Gregor, you're depressing the guy. I'm coming to my hallmark inspirational line. I'd say it's a tough 15 to 25 year period. It's very unpleasant, really. Most of it. Could you repeat that hallmark line again? And with that, Joey pulls off his unlikeliest feat yet. He gets in a genuine, off-the-cuff zinger.

Gregor and I had brought this big bird down. A big group hug. Come on, Gregor. Woo, tang. Woo, tang. There we go. You're touching me. You're touching me. It's touching me. Now that the last month's rent is scheming With the damage deposit

Take this moment to decide If we meant it, if we tried Or felt around for far too much From things that accidentally touch. Heavyweight is hosted and produced by me, Jonathan Goldstein, along with Kalila Holt, Peter Bresnan, and Stevie Lane. The show is edited by Jorge Just with additional editing by Alex Bloomberg.

Special thanks to Emily Condon, Flora Lichtman, PJ Vogt, Saeed Tijan Thomas, and Jackie Cohen. Bobby Lord mixed the episode with music by Christine Fellows, John K. Sampson, Blue Dot Sessions, and he himself, Bobby Lord. Additional music credits can be found on our website, gimletmedia.com slash heavyweight. Our theme song is by The Weaker Thans,

courtesy of Epitaph Records, and our ad music is by Haley Shaw. Follow us on Twitter at heavyweight or email us at heavyweight at gimletmedia.com. We'll have a brand new episode next week. Adios. You fly enough. You see it all, Johnny. I've seen people get married on planes, people get divorced, babies being born a bunch of times. Seen a man take another man's life. Bar mitzvahs, akinzenieres I've seen on planes.

Seen kittens be born.