It is sort of like one of those movies where the burned out old cop is sitting in his living room drinking beer and eating stale potato chips. The phone rings. They want him for one last case. They can't handle this one without him. As bad as he is, as much as he pissed off the whole system, they need him now. They have to convince him. They try to tell him it is worth it. Eventually, he agrees, but he'll only do it on his terms. This is the plot of 20% of all movies made between 1978 and 1992.
I retired a few years ago. I retired in 1999. Having seen too much, and seeing it all, there was nothing there for me any longer. What else was I to accomplish? In the realm of love and romance, I was burned out and tired. There was no reason to continue. I got married just to try to help someone out with her life because there didn't seem much point not to. This would be okay. It wasn't, in the end, and things fell apart, and I thought I would finally have the chance to sail on my own through uncharted waters.
Then, the phone rang. Those pesky detectives down at the precinct had one more case for me. They brought me in, taking me off the couch where I was drinking cheap domestic beer and eating stale potato chips.
Then she walks in.
Of all the gin joints in all the world...
And so forth.
I'll come out of retirement for this one. She is special. When this movie ends, don't come to me asking for a sequel. I've sold all the film rights, but I won't be working on that sequel.
I'm retired, damn you.