Phaedrus Book

[HARRY's apartment from When Harry Met Sally. HARRY is asleep on his couch. On the table next to him are a mostly-empty bottle of bourbon and a copy of Phaedrus. Enter SOCRATES.]

SOCRATES: Good evening, Harry.

HARRY: How--

SOCRATES: Don't worry, I'm not real. This is a dream.

HARRY: Uh--

SOCRATES: I see you're reading Phaedrus. Looking for advice, maybe?

HARRY: I-- I just can't understand how I could have done it. Why did I fuck her? I've ruined everything.

SOCRATES: You're sure about that?

HARRY: We had such a great thing going. We weren't, like, dating, so we could hang out and have fun and talk. There wasn't any jealousy or possessiveness or any of that crap. It was perfect.

SOCRATES: Because you weren't lovers, you could enjoy each other's company much more?

HARRY: Exactly. We did so many goofy things. You know, there was this one time we were in a diner together...

SOCRATES: And what happened?

HARRY: It doesn't matter. All over.

SOCRATES: You seem very upset, Harry.

HARRY: Of course I'm upset! It was the best relationship I've ever had. And now I've just flushed it down the can. I must have been crazy.

SOCRATES: Maybe it's not such a bad idea to be crazy sometimes?

HARRY: Oh, puh-lease. Don't give that mad-people-are-the-only-sane-ones bullshit. It's not going to help.

SOCRATES: Come on, think about it Harry. Whenever you've done anything difficult or creative in your life, weren't you a little crazy? People shook their heads. But sometimes it worked and you felt really good about it afterwards.

HARRY: Okay, Socrates, I see where you're going. But this time I just screwed up. That's all there is to it.

SOCRATES: And it's particularly true with romance. Have you ever made an important romantic decision and not wondered at least once if you weren't doing something totally insane that you'd regret later?

HARRY: Well, now you mention it--

SOCRATES: In everyday life, one must of course act sanely. But with religion and art and love, a little insanity is essential.

HARRY: Hm--

SOCRATES: Here, let me give you this picture I sometimes use to help me focus on my own romantic life. When I want to imagine my soul, I see it as this guy driving a chariot with two winged horses. There's one good horse and one bad horse--

HARRY: You know, you were almost talking sense there for a moment, but now you're losing me again. What's My Little Pony got to do with it?

SOCRATES: No, no, Harry! This isn't about children's toys, this is serious. The good horse is noble and obedient, but the bad one is full of base instincts. When it sees the loved one--

HARRY: Say, let me just ask you a direct question. What is your romantic life, exactly?

SOCRATES: Well, mostly oral sex with underage boys. Some anal. But the whole point of the analogy is that I try to keep it under--

HARRY: So I'm taking romantic advice from a pedophile?

SOCRATES: Now Harry, you need to remember that we belong to different cultures. In my society, what you regard as--

HARRY: I'm waking up now.

[SOCRATES disappears. A moment later, HARRY is sitting up on his couch, rubbing his eyes. In the background, the sound of scattered fireworks.]

HARRY: What the--

[He looks at his watch, which shows 18 minutes to midnight. Suddenly, he grabs his coat and opens the door]

HARRY: I might just be in time. If I run.