DARRYL: Is there something wrong with me? Like, physically? I mean, I know I’m not the most attractive guy on campus, but I mean, shit, even ugly people manage to get dates, right? Am I too… is there something about me that turns girls off? Can they see some kind of sign flashing over my head that says “do not date this man!”? Tell me, please, I wanna know.
RACHEL: OK, first of all, the girls you keep crushing on are all stunningly gorgeous, congratulations, you have excellent taste. Second, you’re not that bad yourself. So maybe… stop whining. Which brings us to, thirdly, stop having conversations like this with girls, it’s unattractive, particularly stop having conversations like this with me, which brings us to number I’ve lost count–
RACHEL: Thank you, four, thank you. Number four, you little crybaby, stop bitching to me about you can’t get laid, you could’ve had me freshman year.
DARRYL: Wait, what?
RACHEL: O-ho. You don’t remember this? Let me just jog that memory for you there, sport. I was a girl, you were a boy, we were at a party, everyone else was hooking up, I was all the fuck over you, you whiny little bitch, but no, I wasn’t the skinny little dirty redhead whore you had a thing for. You wanted her. I wanted you. She wanted Jeffrey, you remember that party?
RACHEL: You remember that, don’t you? If I’d’ve had my hand on your penis, I couldn’t’ve been more explicit, but you wouldn’t give me the time of day. Ask me how I know you’re not a boobsman.
DARRYL: I am a boobs man!
RACHEL: Oh, please.
DARRYL: You wanted to date me?
RACHEL: More importantly, I wanted you to fuck me.
DARRYL: Oh. Well, then what are we waiting for?
RACHEL: Not so fast there, tiger. That’s part of what sucks about being a woman. Can’t really talk to a guy about your feelings until you’re over him. Besides, you don’t want me. If you did… you don’t want me, Darryl. I ain’t the girl for you.
DARRYL: You’re right. I don’t have those feelings for you–
RACHEL: Not what I meant.
RACHEL: Two years ago, Darryl, I was ready to wear you like a coat every day, and to Church on Sunday. I thought you were just the hottest piece of ass I could lay my hands on, but I knew you weren’t for me. I wanted you for sex. But you were looking for love. Probably shouldn’t’ve been, but… But now the tables have turned. The last two years, man, I been round the block! And you haven’t. Forget love, Darryl, you gots to get laid. Pronto. And me? I gotta stop letting guys treat me like that.
DARRYL: So let me see if I get this straight. You’re telling me to do to other girls exactly what you want other guys not to do to you?
RACHEL: Way of the world, kid.
DARRYL: Just as long as we’re clear on that.