ROZ: Hey, Martin.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Oh, thanks, Roz.
So, you're with us tonight, huh?
Yeah. We rented a couple of sad chick movies.
Oh, it's not like you not to have a date
on Valentine's Day.
Tell me. I usually try for a second seating.
(chuckles)
And you'd think that being engaged,
I'd have a guaranteed date, but no...
Donny had to go to Florida.
His grandmother.
She'd do anything to come between us.
Oh, what'd she do this time?
She died.
Good Lord, where is Niles?
I don't want to be late for the opera.
Are you going out with Niles on Valentine's Day?
Well, it's a subscription series, you see.
We got these tickets months ago.
We had no idea what day this fell on.
So Dr. Crane's not spending tonight with Mel?
FRASIER: No. She's going out of town.
Some sort of medical conference. (doorbell rings)
You know, actually, I'm sorry for Niles,
but, uh, I'm rather glad to be having
an old-fashioned boys' night out.
I can't wait, either.
I-I'll see you in 20 minutes, valentine.
(kissing sound)
That had better be the seat duster
in our opera box.
Oh...
No, it was Mel.
At the last minute, she decided to skip her conference.
So... I'll be going to the opera by myself.
Oh! Well, here's a thought:
If you give Mel your opera ticket,
then you won't have to be alone.
You can stay here and-and watch fun movies
with Roz and Daphne.
Ooh.
Dying Young.
It's a... classic.
FRASIER: I am surprised by your gall.
At the last moment, you-you not only bail on me,
you expect me to give up my own ticket?!
Please, Frasier, put yourself in my shoes.
Ihaveto do something for Mel.
Every restaurant in town's been booked for weeks.
I ran into Archie Wilfong today.
He told me he had to settle for two seats at the counter
at The Salad Experience.
What would you suggest I do?
Bring your own wine and order the spicy Caesar.
May your opera box be full of cellophane crinklers
and the stage swarming with standbys.
Get out!
He goes too far.
Yeah, some nerve--
ditching you to spend Valentine's Day
with his girlfriend.
Look, Fras,
I don't blame you for being
a little jealous 'cause he's got someone,
and you don't... I am not jealous, Dad.
I am simply appalled
by his rudeness.
I was looking forward to this evening.
Nice drink... lovely opera...
then a late supper...
perhaps a beautiful bottle of wine,
and a delightful... dessert souffle...
Oh, God, I need a woman.
Remember my friend Rowena?
She's much prettier since her surgery.
You look at her face,
and you can't even tell where it used to be.
Thank you, Daphne, but, uh...
actually, I already have
someone in mind, you see.
There's a stunning woman
who comes to the opera on the same nights we do.
She has the box right across from ours.
We've flirted a bit from a distance.
I have laughed with her during Figaro,
and I've cried with her during Tosca.
I even had a dream about her
during "Einstein on the Beach."
Well, don't just stare at her, make a move.
FRASIER: I will, Roz!
Tonight's the night.
By the finale, I'll have made my overture.
Dad, would you please come with me?
To the opera? Please?
What do you need me for?
Dad, look, I-I can't go with a woman
because then she'll think I'm on a date,
and if I go alone, she'll think I couldn't get a date.
You would look pretty pathetic.
Oh, geez.
Or you can stay home with us
and watch sad movies.
Sophie's Choice.
I'll say it is.
(crowd murmuring) MARTIN: Is she here yet?
FRASIER: No, not yet.
That's her box over there-- the empty one.
Well, I'm not going to sit through a whole opera
for some woman who's not even here.
Oh, for God sakes, Dad, give it a chance.
You might actually learn to like it
if you'd listen to one.
Hey, your mother dragged me to a lot of these things
when we were dating, and they were all stupid.
These stories make no sense whatsoever.
Oh, that is not true.
Oh, all right, what's this one about?
Well, it's about Rigoletto--
the hunchback jester
in the court of the duke.
He has a daughter, Gilda,
who's secretly living with him,
but everyone thinks that she's his mistress.
In this opening scene,
Rigoletto mocks the duke's enemy,
who puts a curse on him.
A cursed hunchback dating his daughter.
Well, nothing screwy so far.
He is not dating his daughter.
Gilda is being courted by the duke,
who is disguised as a humble student.
You see, that's what I mean.
The whole thing's so unrealistic.
Everybody's in love
and pretending to be somebody they're not,
and they're all swooning and gasping...
(gasps)
See, exactly. Who acts that way?
No, Dad, Dad, she's here, she's here,
and she's not on a date.
That must be her mother.
(gasps): Wow. You're right.
She is a looker, all right.
All right, don't gawk, don't gawk.
She'll notice. Well, I thought that was the point.
No, no, Dad. You got to get her attention.
No, Dad, Dad, please!
Don't wave, don't...!
Just-just keep your eye on the stage.
All right, but I bet you that gets results.
Oh. Oh.
You're right, Dad, it did.
(gasping)
Oh, God, I wasn't waving ather.
I was waving at the daughter.
FRASIER: Mm-hmm. (chuckling)
Well, that's not what the mother seems to think.
I think she likes you.
Wave back.
No. I don't want to.
Come on, wave back. (music begins)
You started it. Wave back to her.
Aw, geez.
Hunchback's got kind of a nice voice,
but the daughter's kind of screechy.
Yeah, well, she's no Renata Tebaldi.
FRASIER: Gosh, I don't see them. Do you?
Oh, I bet you the old one's in the ladies' room,
putting on more war paint.
FRASIER: Oh, there they are.
Just try to be nice, Dad.
If you are rude to the mother,
you will ruin my chances with the daughter.
Well, we finally meet.
I feel like we're practically old friends.
Yes.
I'm Helen Browning.
This is my daughter, Emily.
Ah. Ah.
Hello. I'm Frasier Crane.
Uh, this is my father,
Martin Crane. Hi, how are you?
(all greeting each other)
Uh, well, uh...
can we get you some champagne?
Oh, we'd love it.
Thank you. Let me give you a hand.
No, Dad, you know what, Dad?
We can manage. Uh...
Oh. Why don't you two stay
and have a nice little chat?
Okay.
Lovely production, isn't it?
Mm... I adore Verdi.
Oh, he's my favorite.
Though, the woman singing Gilda's a bit off.
Mm, she's no Renata Tebaldi.
You know,
if you like Verdi so much,
I happen to have a spare ticket to Aida next week.
Oh, that sounds great,
but, uh, if it's a week from tonight, I'm busy.
I'm sorry.
Actually, it's next Thursday.
Oh! Thursd...
Oh, you know, there's this thing
at my, uh... uh, my wine club.
Oh, that's all right, Martin. We just met.
I shouldn't have asked, and...
Oh, no, no, no, Helen,
it's got nothing to do with you. It's me.
I'm-I'm afraid I've given you the wrong impression of myself.
You see, the truth is, I'm...
Gay.
Uh, right. Gay.
I thought you might be.
How many straight men remember Renata Tebaldi?
(chuckles): Not many.
Well, I'm sorry if I was too forward.
It's just that sometimes it's so hard to meet nice men.
Tell me.
(laughs)
Here we are.
Uh, Dad, uh... Thank you.
Actually, uh, good news.
Emily has agreed
to join me for a nightcap
after the opera and cast her eye
over my African art collection.
(chimes ringing)
Oh. Oh.
Well, very nice meeting you.
MARTIN: Nice meeting you, too.
Bye. So, I'll see you later?
Yes. All right.
So, how did it go with Helen?
You didn't offend her, did you?
No. Not at all.
Turns out I'm not her type.
Well? Opera queen.
Oh. Sorry.
Though, you know who'd he'd be perfect for?
Yes!
You know, he's here tonight.
I'll bring him.
(chimes ringing)
All right, Dad, we'd better hurry up.
Don't want to miss the second act.
Oh, who cares?
Just be more goofy stuff
that never happens in real life.
(dramatic score playing)
How was the opera?
Lovely. Get out.
Hey! That movie's not over.
FRASIER: That's too bad, Roz.
There's a stunning woman on her way over here.
I don't want her thinking I'm running
some sort of a maudlin sorority house.
Now, come on. Shake a leg.
You actually spoke to her?
You didn't wimp out?
You have never seen me so suave.
Oh, some Valentine's Day.
First my date bails on me,
and now I owe Daphne 50 bucks.
Well, hello there.
Will you be my Ballantine?
Dad, will you go get a glass, please?
Oh, all right. (doorbell rings)
FRASIER: And drink it quickly!
The last thing I need tonight
is some third wheel cramping my style.
Hello.
EMILY: I hope you don't mind.
Edward here was at the opera, too.
He's, uh, my partner.
Your partner? EDWARD: At the gallery.
I'm also her uncle.
Oh. When you said, "partner,"
I thought you meant romantic partner.
Oh.
Hardly.
Well, I'm, uh... I'm Frasier.
Pleasure. What a marvelous view! Thank you.
Oh. May I?
Yes, please.
Your father.
Is he... dating anyone at the moment?
Well, uh... no,
but if you're thinking about your mother,
I-I'm afraid they're not really right for each other.
(laughs)
Yes, I know. I meant... Edward.
Your uncle?
Yes.
And my father?
They're both single, they love opera,
and they were both married with kids
when they came out of the closet.
Your dad told my mother all about it.
Oh, did he? Ah.
Well, she asked him out,
and he had to be honest with her.
Hi there.
Yes. Nothing like a little honesty
to diffuse an awkward situation.
Oh. Hi there. How are you?
Here. Let me take your coat.
Uh, Dad, this is Edward, uh, Emily's uncle.
He's her partner in her art gallery.
Uh, Edward, this is my father, Martin.
Pleased to meet you, Martin.
Uh, same here.
And my friends call me Marty.
Then Marty it is.
(laughing)
I love what you've done with this place.
It's the perfect blend of sleek elegance...
and audacious whimsy.
Oh.
You like it, huh?
You know, Edward's my favorite name.
Really? Yes.
I even call my dog Eddie.
Eddie! Yeah, see? Here he is.
Oh...
A Jack Russell.
He loves Jack Russells.
I have three of them.
All girls.
Oh, well, we ought to get them together.
Who knows, maybe a little romance will bloom.
You know, Dad, maybe we should go
fetch our new friends some, uh, drinks.
EMILY: Uh, I'd love some white wine.
How about you, Ed?
Why not a beer?
Oh... a man after my own heart.
(laughs)
Boy, you are really something.
What?
You actually told Emily's mother
that you were gay?
Well, you said not to offend her.
I thought that was a pretty good way
to get her to cool her jets
without hurting her feelings.
(chuckles)
Dad, there's something you don't understand.
You see, she told Emily.
She got a problem with it?
Oh, no, she's pretty okay with it.
Oh.
Oh, I get it-- you're worried she'll know I'm straight
and find out I've been lying to her mother.
Dad...
Oh, well, don't worry about it.
I'll gay it up a little.
Emily, have I told you I love your hair?
Oh.
Thank you, Martin.
It's divine.
Frasier, these pieces are wonderful.
Oh. You have exquisite taste.
Oh, he gets that from me.
Yes, it was worth all the hours
I dragged him around to the museums
and the antique shops
and teaching him about art
and, you know... upholstery.
Were you in the arts?
Oh, well, actually, Ed...
Dad was a cop.
Really? Mm-hmm.
The, uh, uniform and everything?
Yeah. In fact, uh, that's what happened to my hip.
I took a-a-a bullet trying to break up a robbery.
Yeah, I called for backup,
but it never showed up.
(sighs): Because you were gay.
Don't think I didn't wonder about that.
Yes, that was the day I came out.
Lying in that alley covered with blood,
a bullet in my hip, and I said,
"That's it. I'm gay.
"I like myself,
and I'm not living a lie anymore."
I had exactly the same experience when I came out.
Not exactly, perhaps.
Yours was a bullet in the hip.
For me, it was a Lufthansa steward named Gunter.
What did I tell you?
I knew they'd hit it off.
Yes, I had a feeling myself.
And you didn't say a word, you scamp.
Uh, Frasier, why don't you come
help me get some snacks for everybody?
All right.
If you'll excuse us.
You didn't tell me this was a setup.
Well, how blind can you be, Dad?
He didn't seem gay to you?
He's English; they all seem gay.
Oh, Lord.
Well, we're just going to have to tell them the truth.
Oh, what, you found her mother so unattractive
you pretended to be gay?
Dad, Emily is the most fabulous woman
I have met in ages,
and if you screw this up for me,
I will never forgive you,
so just be nice, all right?
Well, what if he asks me for a date?
I have news for you: You're on a date.
Daphne. We've just been chatting
with your delightful physical therapist, Marty.
Oh, he's a charmer, this one.
Now aren't you glad you went
to the opera?
I keep telling him he should get out more,
meet people.
Most nights he just sits here alone
watching the telly.
He's the exact same way.
He'll watch anything. Yeah.
With him, it's mostly sports.
Just give him a bunch of sweaty men
chasing each other around a field...
Daphne.
Excuse me.
Where are we, uh, keeping the Camembert these days?
Same place we always do.
(under breath): Get in the kitchen.
You were smart to hire a woman
for physical therapy.
Much safer than a man.
Edward sprained his leg last year...
All right, Emily.
I never trusted that man.
All right, Emily.
And why you loaned him your boat...
(under breath): All right, Emily!
(Daphne laughing)
Here we are.
Thank you, Frasier.
I would love to see
the rest of the apartment, if it's no trouble.
Why, that's no trouble at all.
Uh, Frasier, can-can I just... Now, Dad,
don't worry.
I will close the door to your room.
You should see him whenever he gets ready for the opera.
Clothes everywhere.
Well, I'm off to bed.
Oh, no, no, no. Uh, Daph!
Uh, Daphne, why don't you join us?
Oh, no, no, no.
Three's a crowd.
So...
(both laughing)
So...
Our loved ones seemed determined to thrust us together.
Well, don't let them pressure you.
Oh.
Congratulations, Marty, on having raised
such a splendid son.
Oh. I envy you your bond.
Uh, you have kids?
Just one.
George. He's 35...
and he has consecrated his life to bowling.
Oh.
I join him when I can, but...
You're not wild about it.
No. I mean...
the shoes.
(Martin laughs)
Strange, isn't it,
the-the things we'll do to be close to our children?
Oh, yeah.
I've let Frasier drag me
to all kinds of places I didn't want to go to
just so that I could spend some time with him.
You know, sometimes,
it's hard to humor your kids, but...
It's what we do.
We're fathers.
Exactly.
Marty...
would you be free for dinner sometime?
Oh, gee, I, uh...
It's all right. Never mind.
No, no, no, no, I-I-I mean, I'd love to.
It's just that, uh...
No need to explain.
No, no, really, Ed,
it's not you-- you're a great guy.
It's just that I'm... dating someone.
Marty, you don't have to spare my feelings.
No, no, really, it's true.
Hello. Darling!
Sorry.
Am I interrupting something?
Oh, not a thing, honey.
Just take off your coat and stay a while.
Okay, um...
I, uh, I felt bad
about that squabble earlier,
so I thought I'd drop off
this little peace offering.
(laughs)
As if I could stay mad at you.
Uh, Edward, uh, this is my boyfriend, Niles.
Uh... Niles, uh, this is Edward.
We met at the opera tonight.
Delighted. Hello.
You needn't look so startled.
I assure you, there's nothing funny going on.
Oh, good.
Well, uh, why don't we go put this on ice?
Of course, the finest Gilda ever sung
was by the great Mathilde DeCagny.
I actually have the recording.
I'd love to hear it.
Where's Dad?
He's in the kitchen with his boyfriend.
FRASIER: Oh.
Niles, what brings you here?
Well, it's my place, too.
I can have company if I want.
Emily, this is Niles.
Hello. Hi.
Um...
I didn't realize
your father was seeing someone.
Well, actually, I-I didn't think he was.
Um... since when are you two an item?
MARTIN: Oh.
Few weeks now.
We-we didn't say anything about it yet,
because... well...
So many reasons.
You know,
it's getting late, Emily.
EMILY: Oh, yes.
We should be going.
No, no, please, please,
stay for just five more minutes.
I-I have a very special old port
that I'd love for you to sample.
(whispering): Niles.
How could you do this to me?
This was not my idea.
Niles... Emily just kissed me in the bedroom,
and now she's leaving.
I have never been so embarrassed in my life.
You're embarrassed?
They think the best I can do is an old man with a cane.
You have got to fix this.
Oh, and how am I supposed to do that?
Well, isn't it obvious? You've got to dump Dad.
Ah, here we are.
You really must
try this.
Thank you.
Mm-hmm.
So, Niles, you actually,
uh, missed a-a splendid evening at the opera.
Well, maybe I can catch it
this weekend with Mel.
Oh, and who's Mel?
Damn you and your jealous questions!
You don't own me!
MARTIN: Niles!
I was only asking. You're always asking,
badgering, spying on me.
Well, I won't be suffocated anymore.
I'm tired of being your trophy boy.
It's over, you hear me? Over!
And I'm keeping the jewelry.
Oh, Dad.
I'm so sorry.
Is there anything we can do?
No, I'll be all right. I...
I guess I always knew it wouldn't last.
Marty...
the young ones never stay.
I know what will cheer you up.
That Rigoletto recording.
Oh, yes, splendid.
You know, Emily, I'd love to hear it,
but that shipment is arriving
bright and early.
Oh, right.
Uh, Frasier,
I wish I could stay,
but I'm Edward's ride.
FRASIER: Yes, what a shame.
Well, I-I guess this is good night, then.
MARTIN: No, no, wait a minute.
Emily, uh...
why don't you just stay here with Frasier
and enjoy the music.
I'll give Edward a ride home.
You would do that, Dad?
Happy Valentine's Day, son.
Thanks, Dad. All right,
good night. Good night.
BOTH: Good night.
(music playing)
It was so sweet of your father to do that.
He really loves you, doesn't he?
(chuckles)
You have no idea.
# Hey, baby, I hear the blues a'callin' #
# Tossed salads and scrambled eggs #
# Quite stylish #
# And maybe I seem a bit confused #
# Well, maybe, but I got you pegged #
(laughing)
# But I don't know what to do #
# With those tossed salads and scrambled eggs #
# They're callin' again. #
Thank you!