So she called you, right?
I saw her talking on the phone using lots of hand gestures.
I figured it was about how bad the date is.
Okay, I'm going to try and put this as politely as I can, but what the hell is wrong with you? Make a move.
Max, I really like her, but...
What is the but?
But she's Caroline Channing.
And you're Andy something. So?
Yeah, I'm Andy something who owns a small candy store, and she was practically a princess.
Was. Was a princess. Now she has five pairs of underwear and hasn't done laundry in eight days.
Max, honestly, I mean, I use those stupid emojis to buy time to figure out what I wanted to say.
That's why emojis exist. So guys like me don't have to say, "I'm not good enough. I sell gum."
She's the same girl you met in your candy store.
No, she's not. That was just a regular, pretty Williamsburg girl.
Now, she's refined, rich Caroline Channing.
He thinks you're rich and refined. It's a real boner blocker. What?
He found out who you were, and he's intimidated.
You have to act cheap and unrefined. It's the only way.
Here we go. I also ordered you guys some nachos.
No jalapenos. I know that's the devil's garnish.
Great, nachos. They're so low-rent like me.
But first, I'm going to chug some draft beer like I always do.
And now I'm gonna freak-dance. Slut, party of one.
Come on, Jacob. I'm going to tear that ass up. Y-y-you are?
See? That's not special at all.
Oh, my God! Call the paramedics. I danced an Amish boy to death.