In the next scene, Roland regales Jamie with tales of traveling India and dancing with cobras. It’s never clear if Roland is a compulsive liar, an overaged trustafarian, an acid head, or all three. In any case, he’s the funnest dude Jamie’s ever met. The young man wonders how his new buddy can afford these adventures. “Jamie, you only go around once in life and you might as well do it for free,” he replies.
Jamie asks, “You mean you don’t ever work?”
Roland shudders. “Please don’t say the word ‘work’ in front of me. It gives me a rash.” He scratches himself through Ted’s nasty blue robe.
Enter Ted and Joan. They are especially irritated to find Jamie so fond of their unwelcome guest. Joan passive aggressively informs Roland that his clothes are in the dryer. When Roland goes in for another hand kiss, Ted cock blocks him. Sorry, Joan.
Ted takes a more direct approach to the old heave-ho, telling Roland he can eat, dress and then leave. Jamie pitches a fit, saying he wants to share his room with their guest. Ted and Joan overrule Jamie and even Roland agrees. “I’ll be very happy just living in your back yard.”
And that’s exactly where we next see him, passed out in a chaise lounge under a tasteful tartan throw. Very Roland. Enter Harriet through the gate, in a paint splatter motif pant suit. She looks like she just walked off the set of Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” video, but not in a way that’s going to impress Jamie. She runs inside to warn her boyfriend that there’s a weird dude napping back there.
“He’s one of the homeless,” Jamie explains.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, a bum.”
Jamie argues that this guy is different. “Roland is like Indiana Jones with wrinkles.” You mean, like Harrison Ford?
Harriet begs for an introduction. “I’ve never met anyone that exciting. Except maybe you of course.”
Jamie’s big ego overcomes his revulsion. “Me, really?”
“Yeah, to me you’re like Indiana Jones in baby fat.” Oh, girl. This is not an effective strategy.