♪ Yeah ♪
[♪♪♪]
♪ Yeah ♪
♪ Hey ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
[♪♪♪]
- I won't let Dad control me.
- No, he loves you!
He's...
He's just trying to understand you,
that's all.
- Mom, I'm 25.
He's never going to understand.
- You know, you're just as stubborn as he is.
- Tell him that I love him.
- You can tell him that.
- Mom, I'm going to New York.
This photography exhibit can put me on the map.
- Yes, but...
You know, your father thinks you're dating a BMW!
[Engine starts]
- What's a BMW?
- A Black, Muslim, or White.
- Love you, Mom.
- Wait, are you?
[Phone ringing]
- Hey, Babe.
- Hey, babe. What's up?
You on your way? - Yes, yes. I'm on my way.
- Mmm, I miss you so much.
Look, babe, what are you wearing?
- Traveling clothes.
- No, underneath that.
What are you wearing?
- Babe, I'm driving.
- Please tell me the color of them panties.
- [Laughing] Babe, it's too early for this.
- It's never too early.
- Aww.
Oh, babe. I miss you. - [ Growls]
I'm trying to see what them panties look like.
- Okay?
Well, I'm not wearing any --
- Who's Babe? - [Screams]
[Horn honks] - Dad!
What the hell are you doing here?
- Yes? Hello, Babe!
Who are you?
[Cellphone beeps] - Dad.
- Who's Babe?
- We have nothing to talk about!
- We have plenty to talk about!
Tell me!
- You've crossed the line this time.
- Are you staying with Babe in New York?
Talk to me!
[Cellphone beeps]
Oh, God. Don't tell me you're dating a Pakistani.
You're dating a Pakistani! Perfect!
[♪♪♪]
You can't park here.
- The white zone is for
immediate loading and unloading...
- Open the child-lock.
- Thanks for the surprise, Dad.
- ...no parking.
- Bye.
- You can't park here!
- Excuse me! Excuse me, sir.
You can't park here.
Sir?
[Indistinct conversations]
- Hi.
Flight 704 to New York, please.
- Okay.
Are you travelling alone?
- Yes.
- You look very exotic.
With your hair color,
I just can't tell where you're from.
- I'm from Los Angeles.
- Right on. So am I!
I'm local, you're local.
We should hang out.
There's a great place in Silver Lake.
You have any baggage?
- No. - Yes.
Me. - No.
- I'm with her. - No, he's not.
Dad? - I'm her father.
- Is this your father? - No.
- Yes, my ID.
And I'd like a seat next to my daughter, please.
- You're not coming to New York with me.
- I'm an old man who wants to travel.
I've never been to New York.
- Oh, wow. - He went two weeks ago.
- You know, uh, when she was younger,
I used to carry her tickets, passport, money,
everything with me right here.
Now, I just have my own.
I'm all alone.
- Can I have my boarding pass, please?
- And my only daughter's embarrassed to sit next to me.
- Don't listen to him. - Geez.
- I hate you, Dad.
- Excuse me, sir.
Run away.
That's what you're best at.
I know why you don't want me at this exhibit.
It's because you're having adult sleepovers
before marriage.
- Sir, this is a line. - Yeah.
- Excuse me.
This is my daughter.
Would you mind very much if I stood?
- Excuse me. - Thank you.
- Excuse me, ma'am?
Can I just...
- In our country, we have rules!
- This is my country.
- People, have your shoes and jackets off
in the gray bins.
Let's keep this moving.
- Dad, stop following me.
- I have to follow you. I'm in a line.
- You're just embarrassing yourself.
- You want to know what's embarrassing?
I'm the only member of the Indian Doctors' Association
to have their child drop out of medical school.
That's embarrassing.
All I ever wanted was for you
to become a doctor! - Shh.
I never wanted to become a doctor.
I just wanted to make you proud.
- Then make me proud by becoming a doctor!
- Dad, Papa, I'm done.
I'm done fighting with you.
- I just want you to have a stable profession.
- I'm an artist.
- Do you know how much we spent on your education?
- My photography has been featured
in "La Couture De La Paris."
It's an important French magazine.
- The picture with the breasts?
- You never had the eye for real art.
- Picture taking is not a stable profession!
- It's photography, Dad.
- Photography, pornography, it's all the same thing.
When you were a little girl, you used to say to me,
"Daddy, when I grow up,
I want to become a doctor just like you."
- I was 7.
I believed in unicorns.
- You know, you look like a hippie clown with that hair.
- Why are you insulting me?
- Purple hippie.
- Go home to Mom.
- Oh, insulting your father in public is very nice.
- Yes!
[Body scanner beeps]
- I'm not proud to be your father,
I'll tell you that.
[ Man speaks indistinctly over P.A.]
It's stuck. This thing's broken.
[Body scanner beeps]
Would you stop being
a hippie clown criminal pornographer
for just one second and help your father?
- No! Stop talking to me!
- Sir, you're holding up the line.
- Dad, what's that hanging from your bag?
- It's a fuse! - That's a bomb.
- Sir, put your hands up in the air!
- What? [Alarm blares]
- Put your hands over your head. - Security! Gate 5!
- Security, gate 5!
- No, that's my father!
- She's coming through!
- Clear the area! Clear the area!
- Keep still, sir.
- But I'm a urologist!
[Alarms blaring]
- Got this, uh, brown guy.
Think he's Pakistani.
Got his fanny pack here.
- [Muffled laughter]
Your mother's going to kill me.
- Mm.
- [Sighs]
- I'm so sorry, Dad.
- I'm sorry, too.
[♪♪♪]
So... who's Babe?
[♪♪♪]
♪ You strap your fanny pack ♪
♪ On the front or the back ♪
♪ When the kids talk... ♪
♪ Make 'em take it back ♪
♪ I know you can't believe ♪
♪ The things you've heard and you've seen ♪
♪ But my baby's afraid of only one thing ♪
♪ It's your fanny pack ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
♪ Oh, yeah ♪
♪ It's your fanny pack ♪