Hey, Martin. Happy Valentine's Day.
Oh, thanks, Roz. So, you're with us tonight, huh?
Yeah, we've rented a couple of sad chick movies.
Ohh. It's not like you not to have a date.
Tell me. I usually try for a second seating.
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.
Where is Niles? I don't want to be late for the opera.
Are you going with Niles on Valentine's Day?
It's a subscription series, you see.
Got tickets months ago. We'd no idea what day this fell on.
So Dr. Crane's not spending tonight with Mel?
No, she's going out of town. Some sort of medical conference.
You know, actually, I'm sorry for Niles,
but I'm rather glad to be having an old-fashioned boys' night out.
I can't wait either. I'll see you in 20 minutes, valentine. Mwah.
That had better be the seat duster in our opera box.
No, it was Mel. At the last minute she decided to skip her conference.
- I'll be going to the opera by myself. - Oh, well, here's a thought.
If you give Mel your ticket, you won't have to be alone.
You can stay here and watch fun movies with Roz and Daphne.
Oh, Dying Young. It's a classic.
I am surprised by your gall. You not only bail on me,
- you expect me to give up my ticket. - Put yourself in my shoes.
I have to do something for Mel. Every restaurant in town's booked.
I ran into Archie Wilfong today.
He had to settle for two seats at the counter at The Salad Experience.
What do 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.
I don't blame you for being jealous he's got someone and you don't...
I am not jealous. 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,
delightful dessert soufflé.
Oh, God, I need a woman.
DAPHNE: Remember my friend Rowena?
She's much prettier since her surgery.
You look at her face, and you can't tell where it used to be.
Thank you, Daphne, but, actually, I already have someone in mind.
See,
there's this stunning woman
who comes to the opera 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 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.
I will, Roz. Tonight's the night.
By the finale, I've made my overture. Would you come with me?
To the opera? What for?
I can't go with a woman, she'll think I'm on a date.
If I go alone, I couldn't get a date.
- He would look pretty pathetic. - Oh, jeez.
Or you could stay home with us and watch sad movies.
- Sophie's Choice. - I'll say it is.
MARTIN: Is she here yet? FRASIER: No, not yet.
That's her box, the empty one.
I'm not gonna sit through a whole opera for some woman who's not here.
For God's sakes, give it a chance. You might learn to like it.
Your mother dragged me to these things, and they were stupid.
- These stories make no sense. - Well, that is not true.
- What's this one about? FRASIER: Rigoletto,
the hunchbacked jester of the duke.
He has a daughter, Gilda, who's secretly living with him,
but everyone thinks 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. 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, pretending to be somebody they're not,
and they're all swooning and gasping.
Exactly. Who acts that way?
Dad, she's here. She's not on a date. That must be her mother.
Oh, wow, you're right. She is a looker, all right.
- Don't gawk. She'll notice. - That was the point.
- No. - Get her attention.
No, Dad, Dad. Please don't wave. No.
- Keep your eye on the stage. - I bet you that gets results.
You're right, Dad, it did.
Oh, God, I wasn't waving at her. I was waving at the daughter.
That's not what the mother thinks. She likes you. Wave back.
- No, I don't want to. - Wave back.
- You started it. Wave back to her. - Oh, jeez.
The hunchback's got a nice voice, but the daughter's kind of screechy.
Yeah, well, she's no Renata Tebaldi.
I don't see them. Do you?
Betcha the old one's in the ladies' room putting on more war paint.
FRASIER: There they are.
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.
- Hi. - Hello, I'm Frasier Crane.
- This is my father, Martin. - Hello, Martin.
FRASIER: It's a pleasure. - Yes.
- Can we get you some champagne? - Oh, we'd love it. Thank you.
MARTIN: Let me give you a hand. - Dad, we can manage.
Uh, why don't you two stay and have a nice little chat?
Okay.
Lovely production, isn't it? I adore Verdi.
Oh, he's my favourite.
Though the woman singing Gilda's a bit off.
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, Thursday. Oh, you know, there's this thing at my, uh, wine club.
That's all right, Martin. We just met. I shouldn't have asked.
No, Helen, it's got nothing to do with you. It's me.
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?
Not many.
Well, I'm sorry if I was too forward.
It's just that sometimes it's hard to meet nice men.
Tell me.
- Here we are. Dad? MARTIN: Oh, thank you.
Good news. Emily has agreed to join me for a nightcap,
and cast her eye over my African art collection.
- Oh. - It was very nice meeting you.
MARTIN: Nice meeting you too. Goodbye.
FRASIER: I'll see you later. Bye. - Yes.
How did it go? You didn't offend her?
No, not at all. Turns out I'm not her type.
EMILY: Well? - Opera queen.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Though you know who he'd be perfect for?
Yes. You know, he's here tonight. I'll bring him.
We'd better hurry up. Don't want to miss the second act.
MARTIN: Who cares?
It'll be more goofy stuff that never happens in real life.
- How was the opera? - Lovely. Get out.
- Hey, that movie's not over. FRASIER: Too bad, Roz.
There's a stunning woman on her way.
I don't want her to think I run a sorority house.
Now come on, shake a leg.
You spoke to her? You didn't wimp out?
You've never seen me so suave.
ROZ: 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? - All right.
Drink it quickly. The last thing I need is some third wheel cramping my style.
- Hello. - Hello.
I hope you don't mind. Edward here was at the opera too.
- He's, uh, my partner. - Your partner?
At the gallery. I'm also her uncle.
Oh, when you said partner, I thought you meant romantic partner.
Hardly.
- Well, I'm Frasier. - Pleasure.
FRASIER: Yes. - What a marvellous view. 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'm afraid they're not really right for each other.
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?
She asked him out, and he had to be honest with her.
- Hi there. FRASIER: Yes.
Nothing like a little honesty to defuse an awkward situation.
MARTIN: Hi there. How are you? - Let me take your coat.
Dad, this is Edward.
Emily's uncle. He's her partner in her art gallery.
Edward, this is my father, Martin.
- Pleased to meet you, Martin. - Same here. My friends call me Marty.
Then Marty it is.
I love what you've done with this place.
It's the perfect blend of sleek elegance and audacious whimsy.
MARTIN: Oh, you like it, huh?
You know, Edward's my favourite name.
- Really? - Yes. I even call my dog Eddie. Eddie.
Yeah, see, here he is.
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 drinks.
EMILY: I'd love some white wine. - How about you, Ed?
- Why not a beer? - Oh!
A man after my own heart.
- Boy, you are really something. - What?
You actually told Emily's mother that you were gay.
You said not to offend her.
I thought that's a good way to get her to cool her jets
without hurting her feelings.
Dad, there's something you don't understand. You see,
- she told Emily. - Has she got a problem with it?
Oh, no, she's pretty okay with it.
You're worried she'll know I'm straight, 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. 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.
EDWARD: Really?
The, uh, uniform and everything.
Yeah. In fact, uh, that's what happened to my hip.
I took a bullet trying to break up a robbery.
Yeah, I called for backup, but it never showed up.
Oh, because you were gay.
Don't think I didn't wonder about that.
Yes, that was the day I came out.
I was lying in that alley, covered with blood,
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 Gunther.
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.
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. - We have to tell them the truth.
Oh, what? You found her mother so unattractive
that you pretended to be gay?
Dad, Emily is the most fabulous woman I have met in ages.
If you screw this up for me, I will never forgive you.
- Just be nice. - What if he asks me for a date?
I have news for you. You're on a date.
- Daphne. - We're chatting with your therapist.
He's a charmer, this one. Aren't you glad you went to the opera?
I keep telling him he should get out more and meet people.
Most nights, he just sits here alone watching the telly.
He's the exact same way. He'll watch anything.
Oh, with him, it's mostly sports.
Just give him a bunch of sweaty men chasing each other around a field.
FRASIER: Daphne.
Where are we, uh, keeping the Camembert these days?
- The same place we always do. - Get it.
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...
All right, Emily.
- 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.
- Frasier, can I just-f? - Now, Dad, don't worry.
I will close the door to your room.
You should see. When he gets ready for the opera, clothes everywhere.
Well, I'm off to bed.
Oh, oh, no, no, no, Daph... Daphne, why don't you join us?
Oh, no, no, no, three's a crowd.
So.
Our loved ones seem determined to thrust us together.
Well, don't let them pressure you.
Oh.
Congratulations, Marty, on having raised such a splendid son.
I envy you your bond.
- Uh, do you have kids? - Just one.
George. He's 35.
He has consecrated his life to bowling.
- I join him when I can, but... - You're not wild about it.
No, I mean...
Oh, the shoes.
Strange, isn't it, 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 I could spend some time with him.
You know, sometimes it's hard to humour 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, no. I... I mean, I'd love to. It's just that...
- 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.
I felt bad about that squabble earlier,
so I thought I'd drop off this little peace offering.
Oh, as if I could stay mad at you.
Uh, Edward, this is my boyfriend, Niles.
Niles, 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, 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: Ohh.
- Niles, what brings you here? - Well, it's my place too.
I mean, I can have company if I want. Emily, this is Niles.
- Hello. NILES: Hi.
Um, I didn't realise your father was seeing someone.
No, actually, I didn't think he was. Um...
Since when are you two an item?
Oh, a few weeks now.
We didn't say anything about it yet because, well...
So many reasons.
- You know, it's getting late, Emily. - Oh, yes, we should be going.
No, no, please stay for just five more minutes.
I have a very special old port that I'd love for you to sample. Niles.
- How could you do this to me? - This was not my idea.
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. - 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.
EDWARD: Thank you.
So, Niles, you actually missed 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!
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 jewellery.
Oh, Dad,
I'm so sorry.
- Is there anything we can do? - No, I'll be all right.
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.
- 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.
Yes, what a shame. Well, I guess this is good night, then.
No, no, wait. Emily, um,
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. MARTIN: All right, good night.
- Good night. FRASIER AND EMILY: Good night.
It was so sweet of your father to do that.
He really loves you, doesn't he?
You have no idea.