Weinstein, overcome with angst, lies in bed contemplating his wasted life. At fifty-one, he never learned to drive. He recalls how, after a precocious childhood, he grew increasingly isolated due to the weight of "untold injustices," and how, later, he toyed with the idea of communism. This inevitably led him to face the House Un-American Activities Committee, where he, mostly due panic-stricken confusion, failed to incriminate anyone else.
After stumbling in the shower, Weinstein considers how bad the week has been, agonizing over a bad haircut received the day before. On his way to make his alimony payment, he thinks back upon his failed marriage. His wife, Harriet, was too much like his mother. Other women, like LuAnne, intimidated him with their accomplishments.
Weinstein rings the bell of Harriet's apartment. The.....
