Med thumb gretchen and jimmy in bed

We’ve reached the season-two final stretch of You’re the Worst, FX’s anti-rom-com about two purportedly undateable LA cynics who fall into a functional relationship, despite their best attempts to sink it. Gretchen, a publicist and sometimes garbage person who likes drugs and dog videos, and Jimmy, a British writer-slash-misanthrope, are revolted at the prospect of normalcy. But, at this point, they are as much a real — and in some ways really traditional — couple as any twosome posting “Bae caught me sleepin” selfies or “she said yes!” Vines. (Not that they would. Ever. Those, actually, are the worst.)

If any trope showcases the essence of Jimmy and Gretchen’s relationship, it’s the recurring scenes of them chatting in bed. This week — an exquisite episode in which Gretchen reveals her clinical depression — featured one of the best in-bed discussions yet. Not only did the scene reinforce the easy affection underlying the couple’s dynamic; it also served as a PSA for a message that, in my mind, always bears repeating: No one’s dreams are trippier or funnier than the crackpot entrails of anyone else’s subconscious.

The episode opens with Gretchen and Jimmy in bed on a Sunday morning. Gretchen is awake, texting. Jimmy is asleep, snug in his sleep apnea mask and finishing off a dream.

jimmy cpap

Here's the episode's opening dialogue:  

Jimmy: Oh damn it. You’re you. I was having the most amazing dream where you were you but also you were Janis Joplin, and now you’re just you.

Gretchen: You’re sexually attracted to Janis Joplin?

Jimmy: I don’t know. That is a bit concerning. Anyway, you, Janis and me, and my year-four teacher Mr. Frier, were on a road trip —

Gretchen: — Noooope.

Jimmy: What?

Gretchen: No dreams.

Jimmy: No, that’s for other people. My dreams are amazing...Fine, then you’re not allowed to talk about random dogs you see.

Gretchen: What if he’s a little cowboy wearing a bandana?

Jimmy’s sleep apnea mask first showed up in the pilot, during what both characters insisted was a debaucherous one-night stand. They swapped all the embarrassing stories, tried all the positions and blew all the lines they could in a single night. Then, they retreated to Jimmy’s bed, where Gretchen laughed off Jimmy’s attempt to kick her out, and Jimmy tried to scare her off with the CPAP machine he wears for breathing.

Seventeen episodes later, their bedtime back-and-forths carry the same tone: falsely acerbic and teeming with endearment. But now, when Gretchen does leave Jimmy’s bed (to cry in her car, he discovers), he follows her.

gretchen leaving bed