All language subtitles for Chick.Flick.2023.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264

Every girl can relate.

This was my wedding day.

This was the day
I'd waited for my entire life.

I had dreamed of this moment
since I was six years old,

and everything was perfect.

Everyone I loved was there.

Uncle Peter, crazy Aunt Sue,

Mr. Hoffman,
my PE coach from fifth grade.

And that lady,
no idea who she is,

never seen her before
in my life.

Cousin Frank,
Tiffany, my book club friend,

Franny, our housekeeper,

and even creepy Uncle Bill.

And the cherry on top
was my daddy,

who proudly walked me
down the aisle

and handed me to my new husband.

And there he was,

the love of my life.

Jared Jones.

And I was about to be his wife.

Mrs. Claire Jones.

From the moment
I saw him across the counter

at Cinnabon at the mall
that Tuesday, freshman year,

I just knew this was my guy.

I loved the way
he cuddled me at night.

I loved his ears.

I loved the way
he called me Claire Bear.

Hey.

I just couldn't
wait to marry him.

You look beautiful.

Thank you. I love you.

I love you.

Ladies, sidebar.

If your husband looks
like this on your wedding day,

there is something
seriously wrong.

Note this look.

Baby, I need
to tell you something.

-Baby, not right now.
-Claire, just listen.

This never meant anything

and I swear to you,
it was so long ago.

I thought maybe he
hadn't paid his taxes on time,

or maybe his credit score was
a little weaker than he'd said.

Or I thought maybe
he was gonna confess

he'd shaved his balls once
with my lady razor.

I slept with your sister.

Four years ago.

I'm sorry.

Now's not a good time
for that joke.

I'm not joking.

Yes, you are.

No. Baby, I'm serious.

-No, you're not serious.
-Yes, I'm serious.

-No, you're not serious.
-I'm not joking.

-You're not serious.
-What do you want me to say?

I'm not kidding.

-You fucked my sister?
-Sorry, babe. I had to tell you.

I'm just being honest.

I'm doing
the whole honesty thing.

And you choose
to tell me right now?

Baby, I had to tell you.
I had to--

I had to tell you
before we got married.

-She's my fucking sister, Jared.
-I know she's your sister.

And it's my-- my bad-- my bad.

But it was a long time ago
and it didn't mean anything.

And it was killing me.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

-You slept with my fiancé?
-Oh, my God!

-I--
-Okay, Claire.

I'm sure you two
can sort this out later.

What? Are you kidding?
Are you crazy?

He slept with my sister!

I can't marry him.

-I can't marry you.
-Baby, just calm down.

Honestly, look how gorgeous
you look in your dress.

And there's
all these people here,

everybody that we love.

And your dad's
gonna be so pissed off.

And I love you more
than anything in the world

and I would
never hurt you again.

I am so sorry for this, Father.

I know it's fucked up
in your church, and I apologize,

but honestly, baby, think of it.
Uh, wedding paid for.

You know, the-- the-- the--
the party bus is paid for.

The-- the--
Everything's paid for.

You think I give
a fuck about any of that?

-Uh, no. But your dad's--
-You think I give a fuck

that the flowers
had been paid for?

-Are you fucking crazy?
-I'm sorry.

You deserve to have
the shit beaten outta you.

That was close.
Thanks a lot. Nice.

Gotcha that time.

You fucked my sister.

-It's disgusting.
-Claire, please just wait.

Claire!.

Get off me!

Ladies, I told you there was
something up with that look.

My wedding was fucked up
beyond all recognition.

Making a getaway
in a wedding dress

and ill-fitting heels
wasn't exactly ideal,

but come hell or high water,

I was getting
the fuck outta there.

Claire, wait!

-Babe, where are you going?
-Anywhere you're not.

My relationship
with my sister was ruined.

My wedding was ruined.

My life was ruined.

I felt so stupid.

Claire.

Claire, honey, it's mom.

Honey, open the door.

My head was spinning.

I felt nauseous.

The fact that the man I love
cheated on me is one thing.

The fact
that it was with my sister

was something else entirely.

Where was I the day they did it?

Did they do it in our bed?

Were they,
like, flirting for months,

or was this
some drunken accident?

Oh, my God. Wait.

Did they do it more than once?

How did they do it?
What position?

How much had they had to drink,

and where the fuck was I
when all this was going on?

I was stuck in some nightmare
version of betrayal purgatory

and I couldn't find a way
to dig myself out.

I felt my world
falling to pieces.

Everything was crashing down
and out of control.

I just had to get away.

So, I did what all girls do

when they're suffering
from a broken heart.

I went to get shit-faced.

On the house.

You're a good friend.

Oh, fuck!

Oh, honey,

you are so beautiful.

He's just gonna fall over
when he sees you.

Thanks, Mom.

-Hi.
-Hi.

- I'm Ryan.
- Girls.

When you're alone
crying in a bar,

in your wedding dress no less,

and a man approaches you,
this is not hot.

This is a situational stalker.

Claire.

Claire, let me
buy you another drink.

Ew! Cat piss.

Panties are on.

Oh, thank God.

Panties are on.

Just need to get out of here...

without waking him.

Just need to get this on here.

Okay, Claire.

Come on, baby.
Let's get you on now.

Upsy daisies.

-Hey, where are you going?
-Fuck!

Good morning.

Uh,

I'm just gonna, uh,

-head home now.
-Mm-hmm.

Come on!

Ooh...

I'd like to see you again.

Um...

Oh, God.

You know, you're the most
beautiful thing I've ever seen.

You're disgusting.
I hate myself.

-Thank you. Thank you so much.
-Fuck you, Simon's Bridal,

you shitty clearance
rack piece of crap.

-Uh, um, yeah.
-Come on!

Okay.

I was thinking, uh...

I'm gonna-- I'm gonna head out.

Uh, do you know--

do you know
where I put my shoes?

Yeah, you kind of
vomited on 'em last night.

I cleaned them off for you.

Thank you.

I'll get them on my way out.

Well, how you getting home?

Oh, God.

Where the fuck am I?

Take it easy on the turns.

Sorry.

God, I hope you don't have
alcohol poisoning or anything.

Oh, yeah.

And you, uh, got a little bit
of something there.

What?

On the side.

Yeah, that's, uh--

Oh, God. I'm sorry.

I don't even remember
eating rice yesterday.

You got it.

Did we have sex?

Please God. Please God, say no.

No.

Sweet baby Jesus.
Thank you.

No, you just
laid in my bed.

Put your arms around me
and you fell asleep.

Are you sure?

Yeah, it was
kinda nice actually.

Ugh, good.

Because I really hate those guys

that take advantage
of drunk girls.

Yeah, I hate those guys too.

It's here. Pull over.

-Right over here?
-Yeah, right here.

-I think I'm gonna throw up.
-Okay.

Oh, God.

I'm definitely gonna throw up.
Oh, God, I'm gonna throw up.

-All right, um...
-Oh, my God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

-Where's the handle?
-Oh.

-No, you gotta, like--
-Look, there's no handle.

No, you--

-Oh, God.
-Okay.

I'm gonna throw up. Oh, God.

-Oh, God.
-It's okay.

Oh, God.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

I gotta get outta this car.

-I gotta get out.
-Um--

I gotta get out.

-I gotta get out.
-Um, about that.

-Yeah. Yeah.
-Uh...

Uh...

I gotta get out. Oh, yeah.

I gotta get out.

Okay.

Good?

See you later.

Not to be a dick,
but honestly,

it shouldn't even count.
I wore--

I think I wore a condom,
and I don't think that...

I don't even know if it was
smart for me to tell her.

Well, I hope the
Jewel Palace takes returns.

-...knows?
-Oh, my God.

- Hi.
- Fuckward.

Claire.

Uh, this-- this
is not what it looks like.

It was exactly
what it looked like.

My cheating fiancé and my sinful
sister trying desperately

to fix the monumental
clusterfuck of a mess

they'd made of our lives.

And they're all
your favorite flowers.

I'm moving out.

Please don't do that.

Claire, the reason
we're here arguing is...

Wait, is this even my suitcase?

...we all feel so bad

about keeping things
from you for so long.

Oh, by the way,
your inadequately small

engagement ring
is out there on the table.

I'm sure you'll find
somebody else to give it to.

Like, for example, my sister.

Babe, where were you last night?

Everybody in my family,
in your family, we--

we were all
looking for you everywhere.

Aw, that's so sweet.

So, you do care about me?

Yes.

I was out with my new friends,

Jim

and Jack and, uh,

Jose Cuervo.

Baby...

I don't know
if this is even my suitcase.

I am gonna take my chair
because I bought it.

Honey, please.
Where are you gonna live?

There was no way I was
moving back in with my parents.

So, I moved
into the nearest motel

until I could
get my head straight.

Hey, baby.

Did you have fun?

Yeah.

Good.

Isn't it bad luck
for me to see you

the night before the wedding?

I guess we hadn't
really thought about that.

Well...

I love you.

More than anything
in the whole world.

Nothing's gonna change that.

Especially not
some silly old superstition.

I was still showing up to work,

but frankly,
my head wasn't in the game.

I was just a zombie
walking around the office.

My body was there, but my mind
was somewhere else entirely.

Well, there goes
the last four years of my life

down the drain.

- Hey, Claire.
- Hey.

Um, Dane wants
to see you in his office

-when you get a chance.
-Okay.

Are they from Jared?

I didn't see
who dropped them off.

No, anytime.

Someone as beautiful as you

deserves every opportunity
they can get.

Oh, flattery
will get you everywhere.

Thank you so much, Dane.

No, you're very welcome.

So is this, um, a paying thing?

Hi, uh, you asked for me, but--

- Yeah.
- I can--

Yes, come in.
No, no. Come in.

- Am I interrupting?
- No, no, no.

-Come on in.
-'Cause I can come back.

It's all right, Claire.
Come on in.

Okay.

Well, thank you for coming in.

Wonderful.

- Have a wonderful day.
- Thank you, Dane.

- Does--
- Hello, Claire.

Hi. Does she work here?

You look fantastic
in that blouse.

And there it is.

-Thank you.
-So, Claire.

Uh, I've asked you
here today to--

to make sure
that everything's okay.

-Yeah, fine.
-I--

I heard about
what happened at your wedding

and your energy levels
aren't quite the same

here at the office.

Right. Oh, gosh. Um.

I'm sorry, I've been trying
to leave my personal life

at home...

...but I apologize
if you feel that I, um--

Well, it's just
you're usually so energetic

and-- and you're always
coming to me with great ideas.

Mm-hmm.

I just haven't seen
that from you lately.

I--

I want you to be happy here.

But it is a business

and we do need to keep
things running smoothly.

I'd be happy
to offer you some time off

if you feel
that's what you really need.

No, uh, that's--
that's not necessary at all.

I promise you, the old me
is on a verge of a comeback.

She's right around the corner.

Well, just remember

that I'm here
if you need to talk...

...about anything.

-Thank you.
-Thank you, Dane,

you misogynistic, sexist,
patriarchal, condescending fuck.

So, the getting
shit-faced plan backfired.

And I felt even worse.

Work was a nightmare and my boss
was a full-on Weinstein.

So, I took him up
on the offer of time off

and I did the other thing
all girls do

when they're suffering
from a broken heart.

I turned to sweatpants,
Netflix, and ice cream.

I watched all six seasons
of Game of Thrones,

three seasons of The Crown,

Breaking Bad
from start to finish,

Billions and that zombie show
where Jeffrey Dean Morgan

smashes people's heads
in with a bat.

But it really
didn't distract me.

I felt emotionally decimated.

I am tomorrow
marrying the love of my life.

And I could not be--
If-- I'm sorry.

I honestly feel like
the luckiest guy on Earth.

Oh, honey.

-Hmm.
-I love you, baby.

I think I need saving.

Ew, I can smell you
through the phone, dude.

Take a shower
and meet me at the spa.

Tiffany was right.

It was exactly what I needed.

Just peace and relaxation,
girl time,

my mind completely
and entirely off men.

If they've got a dick,
they're gonna cheat.

- Or not.
- Newsflash.

All men cheat.

Oh, my God. Is she right?

Can I get you
a smoothie or something?

No. Why?

Is that a new Birkin?

Oui, signor. A bitch, a Birkin.

Poor Tiffany.

She had to fill the void
in her heart with handbags.

She said she wouldn't leave him

because she thought
it was useless.

She said the next guy
would cheat too.

And the one after that,
and the one after that.

How many women have cried
over a broken heart?

How many women have given men
their everything

only to be turned in
for 2.0 and then a 3.0?

Why was this
the de facto status quo?

I felt myself
getting really angry.

I wanted to get even.

Not just with Jared...

but with the entire gender.

Bitch, I'm gonna need
to borrow some clothes.

Hello? Can we cue the
predictable "girl has a makeover

and regains her self-esteem"
montage, please?

Thank you.

I was out for blood.

Like, crazy amounts
of man blood.

Like the opening scene
in Blade,

like the elevator scene
in The Shining,

like the party scene
in Piranha 3D,

like the lawnmower scene
in Dead Alive

when Timothy Balme's character

mows through a house
full of zombies.

I'm talking Hostel,
not one, but two.

Yeah. You know the scene.

I'm like Marybeth swinging
a chainsaw in Hatchet III.

And for any truly discerning
horror movie buffs,

I'm talking about
the triple kill scene

in Midnight Meat Train.

So, yeah, you get the point.

When William Congreve said,
"Hell hath no fury

like a woman scorned..."

he was talking about me.

My hypothesis is that men have

two primary goals in life,
success and sex.

And not in that order.

Ladies, did you know
that there are books, blogs,

magazines, websites,
and even membership clubs

devoted to what men call
"game" AKA infidelity?

Or simply manipulating
unsuspecting women

into casual sex encounters?

Don't believe me?
JFGI, Just Fucking Google It .

Ever heard of
Seeking Arrangements?

What kind of
fucking arrangements

do you think they're seeking?

It was time for some disruptive
innovation in the "game."

I was the newest player,

but I wasn't getting
in the game to meet men.

I was getting
in the game to lead women.

My aim: to expose men's tactics.

Serial Daters Anonymous.

What's anonymous about it?
The man's identity.

Me? I'm the serial dater.

The rules of engagement.

Number one, no sex.

Number two, no second dates.

Number three, no make outs.

Number four, no feelings.

And number five, no mercy.

I read online that coffee shops
are a great pickup place.

So here I was, sitting pretty.

I'd been here
nearly an hour and no bites.

I just had to be patient.

Eventually, something
would swim into the net.

Now, that looks promising.

Incoming in five, four,

three, two--

Hi, I'm Matt.
Mind if I sit by you?

- Bingo.
- Not at all.

He swam right into the net.

-What are you drinking?
-Coffee.

Obviously.

My name's Claire, by the way.

From the get go,
this guy's singular agenda

was to get me into the sack.

His method, compliments,

an endless drivel
of disingenuous admiration.

Girls, don't be
fooled by flattery.

It's every womanizer's
tool of the trade.

How many of us have girlfriends

who have whined
about the guy that said,

"I was pretty and smart.

I don't know why
he never called me again."

Because you were
simply a conquest.

I wanna buy you everything
you could possibly want.

My bank account

is screaming
in horror right now.

That's very romantic.

And wildly condescending.

Well, you are very beautiful

and you seem like
a great person.

Really?

I seem like a great person?

What have you learned
about me so far, Matt?

I'd like to learn more
about you at dinner tonight.

Okay.

Rumpus Room, 7:00 p.m. sharp.

When it comes to women,
the only thing men care about

initially is aesthetics.

Have you ever sat
at dinner with your boyfriend

and watched him forget
what he was talking about

and go slack-jawed
at some catnip

in a miniskirt
crossing the restaurant?

Mm-hmm. Men love miniskirts.
It's their kryptonite.

I could walk
into the restaurant tonight

in baggy jeans, no makeup,
these glasses and an old t-shirt

and I guarantee the guy would
bail before I even took a seat.

For the purpose
of today's experiment,

I'm going to play le catnip

and expose this "charmer"

for the player
that he really is.

The armory.

Ladies, if you wanna lure a man
like moths to a flame,

you're gonna need
some essentials.

Miniskirts, lashes,
a bucket of makeup

to obscure your natural beauty,

and finally,
a pair of killer stilettos.

I may have looked confident,
but I'm sweating bullets.

The dress was scratchy as hell

and the heels
were already killing me,

but I was on a mission.

-Well, hello there.
-Hi.

Wow, you look beautiful.

Uh-huh.

-Thank you.
-Mm.

Creepy.

So, is this guy going to speak?

This is getting really awkward.

Can I get you guys
something to drink?

-Yeah.
-Okay, Claire.

Order like a boss.

I'll have a scotch, straight up,

water on the back, please.

Your move, muchacho.

- I'll take the same.
- Total beta.

So...

tell me about yourself.

Okay.

Uh, well, I play drums in a band

with a couple guys
from around here.

It's kinda my passion, I guess.

Cool.

What's your band's name?

I don't think I'll tell you that

without knowing more about you

because I don't know
your name yet.

You haven't told me your name.

Why should I tell you
my band's name?

I told him my name
at the coffee shop.

Is your band name lame?

Is it a work in progress?

It's okay
if you don't wanna tell me.

Are we gonna sit here

and withhold information
from each other

or are you gonna
tell me your name?

Playtime.

Let's say my name was Susie.

Would knowing my name's Susie

give you some kind of
satisfaction like,

"Ooh, this a Susie.

I've never had sex
with a Susie before.

This is hot," kind of thing?

You sound really bitter, Susie.

Boy, he had no idea.

Thank you.

Uh, so what was that
at the coffee shop earlier?

What do you mean?

Well, you're not like
anyone I've ever met before.

You're-- It's just something
different about you.

- Not buying it.
- Really?

What's different about me?

Wow.

He literally had no idea.

Dude, just make something up.

Usually, I can tell what's
going on in a person's head,

but with you,
I have absolutely no idea.

Cheers.

Time to up the ante.

Why don't you describe
the perfect woman?

Wow.

Uh, pressure on the first date.

Not really.

Okay. Well, she'll be ambitious.

- Mm-hmm.
- She'll love kids.

- Mm-hmm.
- She has to love kids.

And, you know, damnedest thing,
she looks just like you.

- What a coincidence.
- Mm-hmm.

So, she'd have a great career,

but she'd also be
a great housewife, right?

Yeah.

That's one of the better things
I've heard today.

Is there something
funny about that?

No.

Clearly a feminist.

No, I'm sorry.

Uh, I interrupted you.

- Please go on.
- Okay.

There's a lot more
I'd like to know about you.

Well, what would you like
to know about me?

Well,
obviously, you're gorgeous.

I-- I know this. I can see it

and everyone can see it,

but from the moment
I saw you at the coffee shop,

I was, like,
blinded by your beauty.

It's so interesting.

It's funny
the efforts guys will go to

to say nice things to girls

just to get
what they want from them.

I think
you're missing the points.

Uh, okay, fine.

But if I wanted something
just physical from you,

I would've approached you
in a totally different way.

Ladies, this is a CPM,
Classic Player Move.

Strategically designed to infer
he wants more than your hoo-ha.

How would you have
approached me?

What do you mean?

Well, if you were just looking
for something physical.

Well, um,

I wouldn't have kept insisting
to get to know things about you.

Well, isn't knowing
things about women

just an angle guys use?

I mean,
every new thing you learn

is just another piece
of ammunition you use

to get what you want, right?

Okay.

What are you looking for out of
your relationships with people?

Well, actually, no,
here is a better one.

What are you looking for
out of life?

Angles.

-You are looking to get angles?
-No.

You asking me that
was just another angle

to get inside my head.

-Would you deny that?
-No.

I will not deny that.

His archetype
was classic flirt.

Girls,
compliments are tool menus

to systematically dismantle
your skepticism

in order to get laid.

Don't be fooled. He seems nice.

But this guy's
a total grade A player.

Trying your hardest to make me
sound really bad, aren't you?

No. I don't need to try.

Okay. That was a little mean.

Just kidding.

I think you're actually
a really nice guy.

Nice guy?

Yeah. Really nice guy.

- Nice guy.
- Really nice guy.

AKA friendzone.

It was like firing
a military grade crossbow

into a party balloon.

Fuck!
Did I leave my curling iron on?

So, as I maxed out
my credit cards,

I had to move out of the motel.

There was still no way
I was moving in with my parents.

So, I crashed
at my friend Michelle's.

So, I got flowers
at the office today.

Were they from Jared?

I don't know, but they came
with a note which said,

"Please give me another chance."

Oh, my God. He just needs
to give you some space.

Do you ever think
about getting married?

No.

I have no idea
how to allow a man

to stay with me
past three months.

You know, I have,
like, a three month rule.

I noticed.

You think you're gonna start
dating again anytime soon?

Are you crazy?

Invest my life into a guy

just so that I can get
screwed over again

or traded in for a younger model
down the line?

See? Now you sound
like a cynic like me.

You know, life is better

when you're spending it
with someone new, no?

I couldn't tell
Michelle about the blog

because she's one
of those judgy friends

that always admonishes you
for doing anything fun

or anything
she doesn't agree with.

And this,
she would not agree with.

A toast.

Here's to the men we love.

Here's to the men who love us.

Fuck the men, here's to us.

Cheers.

Anyone who spent time
working in an office

is familiar with the cast
of office stereotypes

that seem to exist in
every office across the world.

There's the delegator,
the creeper,

the hypochondriac,
the OCD, the egomaniac,

stress case, the chatterbox,
the slacker, the overachiever,

and the girl
who's always eating.

Well, Greg was
the office sex addict.

Oh, good morning, Greg.

Hey.

-How have you been doing lately?
-Fine.

Uh, well, no, not really.

Ashley left me.

Oh, Greg.

I am so sorry to hear that.

Poor Greg. I felt for him.

It wasn't his fault
he was a raging nookie monster.

Sex addiction is a real crisis

for a growing number
of men in America,

as Greg like to remind us.

I mean, we all knew
he watched hardcore porn

in his office desktop,

but again, who's judging?

I'm having trouble sleeping.

I actually just went
through a breakup, too.

Oh.

The thing with Greg
was that his sex addiction

was all he could think about.

Sometimes, it distracted him
to the point

where you could see him
visibly leave the conversation

and think about sex.

How have you been
handling your breakup?

Sometimes,
it distracted him to the point

where he just became
plain selfish

and he really wasn't interested

in hearing about
anyone else's problems.

Oh, I have this free feeling
that I have right now, but--

And that's a wrap on Greg.

All right, you want--
you want a cream or a sugar or--

I don't want any of that stuff.
Just--

No. Oh, sure?
Is that good for you?

Girls, we got a live one.

My friend's coming in.
Just put it on his tab.

Taking the bait.
Hook, line and sinker.

Is this seat taken?

Feel free to occupy.

The fuck! Did he just do that?

My name's Mick.

You look like a Mick.

Hey, what's that
supposed to mean?

I don't know.
You just look like a Mick.

Okay.

All right.

Well, Micks are known
for their ruggedness

and, uh-- Or, uh, um...

sex.

How's it going, guys?

Good.

This must be her pickup place.

See you met the woman
with no name.

- Oh, this is her?
- Yeah.

Oh, my God.

You guys know each other.

Mick is the singer in my band.

-Really?
-Mm-hmm.

How cute.

You know,
Matt here wouldn't tell me

the name
of your band last night.

We're called the Knightingales.

With a K.

Cool.

She was just talking
to some other dude yesterday

and it went down
exactly the same way.

I didn't tell you the name

because you wouldn't tell
me yours.

Actually, that's not true.

I told him my name when we met.

Just, he chose
to kinda ignore it.

I'll be just fine
with not knowing your name.

Anonymity could be
a real turn on.

-Really?
-You're a dick, Mick.

Look, I came here
hoping to see you again

and ask you out on another date.

I can see maybe bringing
my friend was a big mistake.

Look, Matt, I'm sorry,

I'm just not interested
in second dates right now.

But you're interested
in first dates?

Absolutely.

-Uh-huh.
-Okay, fine.

Good luck, Mick. I'm outta here.

Dude, I still need
a ride.

-Bye, Matt.
-Matt!

Mick AKA The Dick.

This guy fancied himself
a pickup artist.

PUA are members
of the seduction community.

A misogynistic modern movement,
which exists purely

to educate men
on how to pick up women

and successfully bed them
the same night.

PUA are obsessed
with pursuing va-jay-jay

and place the end
before all others.

Sleeping around may be
your biological imperative,

but Erik von Markovik,
you are not my friend.

Let's see
how your technique really works.

Is that your phone?

That's the restaurant phone.

- Right.
- Right.

So, did you and Matt
get everything sorted out?

Oh, yeah.

Oh, I mean, he's jealous,
but it'll be fine.

Oh, he is? That's cute.

Uh, so you don't mind

kinda him pissing him off
to go on a date with me?

Oh, no. I live for the moment.

You know,
I-- I go after whatever I can.

Whenever an opportunity
presents itself.

You don't wanna look back
when you're a geezer

and think
you should have done more.

-Right. Yeah.
-Yeah.

-So...
-Totally.

...um, what kind of opportunity
is-- is-- is this?

Am I an opportunity?

-Right.
-Yeah?

-So did, uh--
-Sounds pragmatic.

This fear of second dates,
what-- Uh, what's up with that?

Um, you know,
I just don't really feel

like letting anybody get
to know me too well right now.

-I'm just sort of--
-Yeah, that's admirable.

I mean, people can get really
ugly if you know 'em too well.

Or you can think
that you know them

and then find out years later

that you didn't know them
at all, right?

I don't know
if that really happens.

Um, yeah,
I found it does happen.

So, did you and Matt have,
like, a one night stand or what?

Ooh! Direct.
Um...

Just a question.

He, uh, didn't--
uh, didn't Matt tell you?

No, he wouldn't say.

I have taken a vow of celibacy
for the time being, Mick.

Oh, cool. Yeah. Yeah. I, uh...

I took a class on that.

On celibacy.

- Mm-hmm.
- Um, it's like constellations.

Stars and shit like that.

That is exactly
what celibacy is.

Except not.

It means that I'm abstaining
from sex at all.

Yeah. Seriously?

-It's a joke, right?
-No, I'm completely serious.

I am not having
sex with you tonight.

- Wait, that's a real thing?
- That's a real thing.

Yep. People do that.

Well, now
we're gonna have to see

if we can do
something about that.

Ooh. Ha-ha. Woo.

Forward, aren't you? Woo.

Uh, you are-- you are a very
nice and fun, fun, smart guy.

-Yeah.
-Very smart.

Um, but this is not
going to get physical tonight

or probably ever.

-Then, why are we here?
-What?

-What the-- Okay. Okay.
-Why are you here?

-You did not--
-You're only here to have sex?

Is this the only reason
that you're actually at dinner?

You told me that at the café.

You don't even care
about the food, do you?

You told me that.

What is the point
of having one date with someone?

Uh-huh.

Only getting to know them
on a superficial level,

not letting them touch you

and then never
seeing them again?

That-- that is
an excellent question.

What were you thinking?

That I was, like,
just gonna come on this one date

-and then have sex with you?
-Yes.

You really thought that I was
gonna come on one date with you

and then have sex with you?

-You said that.
-I did?

-At the café.
-I said that?

-Yeah.
-I said-- What did I say?

You said, "Take me out
and let's have sex."

You're right.
Gosh, I just-- I don't know--

You at least--
you at least implied it.

I'm not paying for your dinner.

-Oh! Oh, no.
-Oh, no.

Oh, no.
He won't pay for my dinner.

Thank you. I'm a big girl.
I can pay for my own dinner.

In fact, you're probably the one
that can't pay for your dinner.

So what? What?

You're like a dating
vigilante, an outlaw?

You're like a--
you're like a witch.

You're like some--
What the fuck are you?

You're wasting
my time right now.

Do you know
the meaning of vigilante?

-Just curious. I--
-You suck at this.

Whatever.

Thank you so much
for proving all my theories

about men to be 100% accurate.

Yes, sir.

I will have
a bottle of champagne.

Date number two, Mick.

He was literally
only interested in sex,

not even with me.

This is the kinda guy
that wants to nail tail

no matter who she is.

He's the type
that fires at random,

indiscriminate, aimless,

and haphazardly
going through life,

trying to have as much sex
with as many women as possible.

Ladies, you're not even
a person to this type of guy.

You're a notch on a bed post
whose name

he quite literally
does not need to know.

Unless you're
his female counterpart

and uber into one-night stands,

avoid this fucker at all costs.

Finding guys at coffee shops was
proving tedious and inefficient.

I needed to increase my quotient

to establish
a more meaningful algorithm.

It was time
to download some dating apps

and start swiping
my way through these dates.

Step one, post a hot but
relatable and fun profile pic.

Find a decent photo of yourself,

then filter and Facetune it
within an inch of your life.

Oh, come on. We all know that
the social media version

of ourselves is
thinner, prettier, cooler,

and more glamorous
than our real selves.

I have friends I barely
recognize without their filters.

Next, the obligatory bikini pic.

Then a pic of myself
doing something athletic

and outdoorsy to prove
that I have varied interests.

Snapchat selfie.

Halloween pic
in a slutty outfit.

Silly pic to show I have a sense
of humor,

fun with friends pic eating cake

to show I'm social
and get along with others.

And finally, a random pic
of me holding up a rock.

"I'm cultured.
I go to cool museums. Like me."

Step two, bio.

Hm. Oh, please.
Guys, don't read bios.

Step three,
age range and location.

And we're off.

Nope. No way. Nada. Non, merci.

No, gracias. No, thanks.

Nope. Hmm.

Nope, sorry. No way.

Strange. Cute. Crazy. Creepy.

No. No way. Nope. No.

Hm. Bob, you look nice.

Let's start with you.

Hi, Claire.

-Bob?
-Whoa!

You look more beautiful
than your profile pics.

You don't look
anything like yours.

Must be the beard.

No, Bob.
It's not the fucking beard.

Well, I wasn't
gonna waste my blowout.

Might as well
give him a cha-- Wait.

What is that?

-Is that a wedding ring?
-Yep.

-Are you-- are you married?
-Yep.

Um, bye, Bob.

#Catfished.

I guess I shouldn't
have been surprised about

the alarming ratio
of married to non-married men

I had met so far.

I thought my hypothesis
about men was strong,

but so far it was
disappointingly 100% accurate.

Abs, abs, more abs, abs,
more abs and more abs.

"We come as a pair."
Interesting.

Bike together,
swim together, ski together,

matching shirts,
triathlon together,

hike together,
eat ice cream together,

eat bananas together,
shave together.

That is one serious bromance.

Hm. Athletic and a dog lover.

-That's a match.
-Hey, Lyle.

He was tall, broad shouldered,
well-dressed and...

Oh, hey, Claire.

...carrying a dog
in a BabyBjörn.

Well, the dog was really cute,
so I went on the date anyway.

Lyle was really nice,

but he was looking
for a puppy mama.

It was officially
a date with a canine.

Hm. Hm. Package deal.

While Binder had increased
my quotient tenfold,

it was all quantity,
not quality.

I had to get my hands
on some classier guys.

And what better place to start

than a fancy-schmanzy
art gallery.

Magnificent, isn't it?

O-M-G. Schwing!

Yeah. It's really masterful.

Another place to find
classy guys is LinkedIn,

where I found my next subject.

- Hi.
- Hi.

-How are you?
-Ah, great.

-It's great to meet you.
-Great to meet you as well.

-I, uh, love your outfit.
-Oh, thank you.

It's very, uh, Darth Vader-y.

Uh, thank you very much.

Getting some, you know,
like, Cruella de Vil vibes.

You're funny,

-Shall we?
-Yeah, why not?

Sit down, take your gloves off
and stay a while.

So, you are a fan
of abstract impressionism?

Yeah. Uh, it's just
so surrealist

and I love the--
the brush strokes and...

This is a really
beautiful restaurant.

It's-- Uh, it is not easy
to get a reservation,

but I was able
to pull a few strings

for such charming company.

Oh, well, charmer.

It's so creative and spontaneous

and impressionistic
and, um, abstract.

Let me show you my--
my new girl.

-Oh, wow.
-Yeah.

-That--
-It's AMG V8.

Just got it
custom made in Germany.

-She's really beautiful.
-She is.

But, uh, she's, uh, no you.

That-- I love that gallery.
That gallery is amazing.

So inspiring.

So...

impressive.

And, um, beautiful and amazing.

Do you mind?

Your shoes.
They'll ruin the wood.

Oh.

So, I went, uh, ahead
and ordered us a bottle of wine

that I think you'll like a lot.

It'll pair very nicely
with your gnocchi.

Oh, thank you.

So what kind of, uh--
What kind of wine did you order?

-It is a, uh, 2016 Nickel's.
-Ooh.

It's a vineyard
in the south of France.

No, sir. That wine is from Napa.

A buttery chardonnay.

That looks yummy.

I can think
of something else yummy.

Cheers.

So are you gonna wear
the gloves all night?

Yeah. Why not?

I mean,
Jackie O wore gloves inside,

Marilyn Monroe
wore gloves inside.

Maybe I could have
a martini, too?

For sure.

Help yourself.

Okay.

I'm pretty sure
Bette Davis wore gloves inside.

I think that, uh, a lot
of the coolest women in history

wore gloves inside,

so I thought I was just, like,

gonna bring it back
a bit, you know.

Well, you are certainly
able to carry the torch.

Oh, you didn't make enough.

That's-- that's okay.

Cheers.

-Ready to order?
-Yeah, sure.

Um, may I please have
the citrus and chive gnocchi?

The lemon emulsion
shaved prosciutto

and the red... whatever that is.

Reggian-- Reggiano? Thank you.

Uh, and I will have
the red wine braised short ribs

with the roasted broccolini.

I, uh-- I love animals.

So do I, on my plate.

Okay.

I'm-- I'm a big meat eater.

Um--

-But I try to stay fit.
-Mm-hmm.

I'm always busy
with work and such, but...

I skipped
the ride home in the AMG V8,

even though
it was custom made in Germany.

There's only so much show off

one girl can handle
in an evening.

And what the fuck was
all that fuss about my gloves?

Wait. What? Holy shit!

5,000 followers?

Turns out Buzz News
had done a segment

on my serial dating
and people were catching on.

It was spreading like wildfire.

I was trending on Twitter.
It was blowing up.

I got over 10,000 followers
over the next two days.

Within a week, I had 50,000,
and 100,000 a week after that.

I was getting calls
from everyone I've ever known.

Apparently, women across America

were finding my serial dating
nightmares relatable.

Sure there were the trolls
and the haters,

but to hell with them,

they were mostly
pissed off dudes.

They're entitled
to their opinion

as much as the next girl.

So, Greg stopped by to update me

on his sex addiction anonymous
meeting the night before.

And then he asked me out.

I said yes, but I knew it was
a bad idea right out the gate.

But I could tell the guy
really needed the companionship.

So, I'm just--
I'm gonna get back to work.

Okay.

Your daughter
is really adorable.

She sure is.

I used to dance
when I was little.

Why'd you stop?

Uh, I met someone.

I just decided I didn't
have time to dance anymore

'cause I wanted to spend
all of my time with him.

He was great. I mean,

he tried to encourage me
to keep dancing, but...

I just wanted to spend

every moment
of every day with him.

The truth is...

I cheated on him.

He was my first love.

And I left my second
standing at the altar

'cause he cheated on me.

Poetic justice, right?

None of us ever come out
of our first real relationship

as the same people.

Sometimes, I wonder

if people were to have
a relationship with someone

where they were
completely honest all the time,

even if they had a thought
about someone else,

if it wouldn't make it easier
for people to stay together.

So like, total honesty.

Like, a guy comes home
from work and he says,

"Hey, honey, I met this gorgeous
woman at the store today.

Do you mind
if I have sex with her?"

And she says, "Sure, honey.

Just so long as you're home
in time for dinner."

I-- I know it sounds crazy.

Tell me.

Could you ever see yourself

in a relationship
with anyone again?

Okay.
So he did think it was a date.

My bad. I felt really crappy
for leading him on.

I navigated my way out
of a second date by explaining

I just wasn't ready for love
and wanted to stay friends.

And no one likes
letting people down,

which just led me to reflect

on what happened
with my first love, Kyle.

I let him down
and then he let me go.

Wondered where he was now,
what he did with his life.

I don't think
I ever really got over it.

So, remember
how I said Michelle was one

of those judgy friends
that likes to reprimand me

if she thinks
I'm doing something wrong?

Well, she had
finally seen the blog.

So, I saw your blog.

-Oh, yeah?
-Mm-hmm.

Cool. What do you think?

Uh, my best friend
leaves her fiancé

then starts up
a man-hating blog?

I don't know what to think.

Oh, my God.

Are you mad at me?

It's just an experiment.

I'm just finding out about guys,
you know, dating, relationships.

-It's no big deal.
-No, I'm not mad at you.

It just sounds like you're gonna
hurt a lot of people.

Oh, come on. Hardly.

All I'm doing
is letting guys come on to me.

They take me out for one dinner

and then I come home
and I write about why I think

the relationship
wouldn't last down the line.

It's meant to be informative.

Don't you think
that sounds a little bleak?

No.

I think I'm writing

what's on the tip
of everybody's tongues.

It's not like I'm running around
sleeping with half the city.

Besides, I would've thought
that a serial dater,

man aficionado like you
would've found it entertaining.

Yeah. If it were anyone else
writing it, sure.

But it's you. And I know you.

And I know what
you've been going through.

And I just don't think
that it's a healthy way

-to deal with your problems.
-God.

It's just a blog, Michelle.
Geez.

Hey, Claire.

Dane wants to see you
in his office.

Sure.

I'm just gonna
get right down to it.

Greg came to me
late in the day yesterday

and informed me about
you writing about him

on some promiscuous blog
of yours

after you went out
on a date together.

Now, Claire,
I think you're great,

but you know the policy that
HR has about dating co-workers.

You broke the rule and took it a
step further

by writing about it.

I wasn't preying on him.

He's the one that
asked me out on a date,

and I'm the one that told him
that it was just friends.

Your blog made it very clear

that it's all
just a game to you.

But the blog was anonymous.

It doesn't even say
Greg's name on it.

Listen, Greg is
in a bad place right now,

and I can't have you preying
on him when he's in that state.

-I can't accept that.
-What the fuck?

I'm not preying on him.

He's the one that asked me
out on a date, Dane.

I'm the one that told him,
"Yo, no,

I don't think so.
We're just gonna be friends."

And-- and by the way, what
about me? Like, what about me?

I'm-- I'm, like,
not in a great place either.

I mean, I'm the one that--
whose fiancé,

like, cheated on me
with my own fucking sister.

Claire, settle-- settle down.

You're fired.

I think that--
that this is a warning.

-That's what I think.
-The last time

-we sat down together...
-Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

...that was your warning.

This is the more
serious warning.

Doesn't get any more serious
than you getting fired.

In that case,
then Greg is also getting fired.

Greg, you're fired!

-Right? I mean...
-Claire.

...he went out on
a date with me, apparently.

I'm the one that's
saying it wasn't a date.

He's the one that's
saying it was a date.

-I really don't wanna--
-I'm the one that should keep

my job and he's the one
that should get fired.

It's not in my hands.

I'm not gonna tell HR
to break their rules.

-What you did is inappropriate.
-Inappropriate?

Okay, Dane, let's talk
about you having women models

come in here
every single day of the week.

Monday through Friday,
you have a different girl

sitting on your lap
in this office

with your door open
like you don't even give a shit.

That is inappropriate.

Does your fourth wife,
by the way,

know that you have models
come in here

and sit on your lap
during the day?

Claire, that's part of my job.

Are you-- are you
seriously firing me?

Yes. You gave me no choice.

I'm giving you a choice.
Here's your choice.

-It is not my choice.
-Fire me. Don't fire me.

You complaining about it is just
your frustration and anger--

Fire Claire. Don't fire Claire.
I don't know,

how about we go with
the "don't fire Claire option."

You're fired. Please leave.

Okay.

You know what I'm gonna go do?

Enlighten me, Claire.

I'm gonna go blog about you,
Dane.

I'm gonna let
the whole world know

what a total fucking sleazebag
you are, Dane.

-Dane!
-Thank you, Claire.

-Dane.
-Thank you. That's enough.

I am gonna miss that ass.

But I've got it
right here in my phone.

Greg!

Dane just fired me.

I guess I was
just another tally for you.

You know, a lot more people
have seen your blog

than you probably think.

How could you ever judge
anyone after only one date?

Are you kidding me?

I'm sorry.
I did, I blogged about you,

but it was anonymous.

And you weren't
just another number to me.

You were my friend.

I was trying to
protect you from myself.

I put myself out there for you,
and you stomped on me.

Oh, God.

Like a chihuahua.

Like a mean chihuahua.

- Yeah. Yeah.
- You gonna do this?

Yeah, why not?

I knew
I should've walked away,

but I just couldn't help myself.

She had a police officer hogtied

-and barking like a chihuahua.
-"I'm sorry."

What's that old saying?
Curiosity killed the cat.

Claire!

What are you doing here?

I didn't even know
Michelle was into BDSM.

How had we been friends
for over a decade

and that little nugget
had never popped up?

I have to say, she did look
crazy hot in that bondage suit.

...and I'm sorry,
but I can't be a part

of your train wreck anymore.

I hadn't realized
until this moment

how selfish I'd been.

She was totally right.
I'd been mooching off her

and invading her privacy
for too long.

And that's when it hit me:

I'd officially become
the office train wreck.

I'm sorry, I'm gonna
have to ask you to find...

some other place to live.

Okay.

I'll go get my things.

It was finally happening.

I was a grown adult,

and I was moving back in
with my parents.

I felt like such a loser.

- Claire!
- Hi, Mom.

Here.

It's a screwdriver.

Oh.

It's strong.

I'm a little embarrassed
to say that

that drink helped me
through some pretty hard times.

Back when your father...

-when your dad--
-Cheated on you.

How did you do it?

How did you stay with him
knowing that he'd found

another woman attractive
and then slept with her

while you were married to him?

Well, when we got married,

I made a promise
to love him unconditionally.

And though it took some time,

I could tell he realized
he'd made an awful mistake,

and he really was sorry.

And there it was, the sting.

I was 14
when dad cheated on Mom.

But even after all this time,

it still filled me
with inexplicable sadness.

But I'm glad you're here now.

You just sit and relax,
enjoy your drink.

Your dad's got some things
in your old room,

but I can get those cleared out
pretty fast, okay?

We'll take care of you.

-Thanks, Mom.
-Sure, sweetie.

Returning home
as an adult means

revisiting memories
of your youth.

Old clothes, old furniture.

Tokens and artifacts left over
from your previous life.

Items you thought lost
or forgot even existed.

Seeing the life you left behind.
For better or for worse.

With Kyle, I somehow felt
he was for the worse.

A first love.

The kind that stays
in your heart for a lifetime.

So Grace hasn't talked
to us since your wedding.

Well, what do you plan on
doing with yourself?

Your mother and I
would like some assurance

that you'll be okay.

Um... well, I started a blog.

It's catching on pretty well.

A blog?

Yeah. You know,
it's like one of those websites

where you write posts
about stuff.

Oh. And what do you
write on the blog?

Um, you know, dating
and relationships and...

Hmm.

Could you guys just not
tell anybody that I got fired?

I don't-- I don't really want
anybody else to know.

Especially not Michelle.

I don't want her
feeling any more guilty

about kicking me out.

Of course, honey. We understand.

Sure.

-Sure.
-Thanks.

You okay?

I guess.

They were being supportive,

but I could see the
disappointment in their eyes.

Fiona and I had been
friends since first grade.

We grew up on the same street.

We learned to
ride bikes together.

Fast forward a couple decades,
and here we were.

Fiona's husband had left her
almost a year before

for a 19-year-old
Instagram model,

and she just hadn't recovered.

She was a single mom
with three girls

and an at-home accountancy firm.

She was exhausted all the time
and had lost her belief in love.

What are you guys drawing?

It's a knight in shining armor.

-Oh, cute.
-I drew me a Cinderella,

-and that's my prince.
-I...

What kind of
godmother would I be

if I didn't try to warn them
and saddle them up for battle?

Guys, I'm sorry, but it's time
for a reality check, okay?

There is no such thing...

as Prince Charming, and there's
no such thing

as knights in shining armor.
Okay?

There is only mean, nasty,
horrible boys, okay?

Don't grow up with
hopes of, you know,

anyone ever loving you,

'cause that's just not
the way the world works.

I'm telling you this
'cause I don't want you to...

...be delusional like I was,

and have silly fairytale
fantasies of love and marriage

and Prince Charmings
and knights in shining armor.

Boys are mean.

Say after me. "Boys are mean."

Boys are mean.

Perfect. "Boys are mean."

Boys are mean!

Boys are mean!

Boys are mean!

- Boys are mean!
- Boys are mean!

Boys are mean!

Boys are mean!

Oh, and by the way,

-Santa Claus does not exist.
-What?

So Fiona
was furious with me,

but frankly, I think it's
better to tell kids the truth

than make them suffer
with reeling in

insurmountable disappointment
in their teens and adulthood.

Now those girls have healthy
and sensible expectations.

I-- I really think
I did the right thing.

I was serial dating by night
and sleeping in all day.

I'm not saying it was healthy,
but it's really all I had to do.

Hello?

Hello, is this Claire?

Yes, it is.

This is Donald Taylor
from Community Weekly.

We've been following your blog a
little bit, and I'd like to know

if you'd be interested in
us doing a story on you.

Is this a bad time?

No, no, this is a great time.

Uh, yeah.

Uh, I would, uh, think
that the story sounds great.

Um, what kind of questions
would you be asking?

Well, I'd like to
interview you personally,

and that'd make a large part of
what's gonna be in the article.

Uh, okay. Uh, great.

When would you--
when would you wanna meet?

Are you free today?

Um...

yeah.

Uh, yeah.
How about, uh, after six?

Great.
The Zen Den at seven?

-Sound good?
-Okay, great. Sounds great.

Oh, and I hope you don't
count this meeting as a date.

Strictly business.
I promise.

Okay, thanks. Bye.

Got her a bunch of cute stuff
in that little store on Water.

You know the one.

Yeah.
Like, on Water on Sixth Street?

- Yeah. Like a dress. And, um--
- Excuse me, miss.

I gotta go. I'll call you back.

Ah, here you go.

I-- Are these for me?

Sure are.

Are you the delivery guy?

Who are they from?

Uh,
I honestly can't tell you that.

How did he know
that I would be right here?

He just said you'd be here.

Hmm.

Is his name Jared?

I can't tell you that.

You know what?
You should keep the flowers.

Give them to somebody you love.

-You sure?
-I'm sure.

They're beautiful, though.
Thank you so much.

Okay.

Jared?

Are you home?

I'm coming over.

Wow. You look beautiful.

Have you been
sending me flowers?

Uh, no.

Hmm.

Are you sure?

Because if you have,
it has to stop.

Honestly, I haven't. I--

I took the whole
"leave me alone" thing

-pretty seriously.
-Well, it's just weird

because I've been
getting a lot of flowers,

and the first bouquet
came with a note

which said,
"Please give me another chance."

I don't know.
Maybe that was Kyle.

Maybe he heard we broke up
and wants to,

uh, "reconnect" or something.

Yeah, right.

Hey, I read your blog.

Pretty angsty stuff there.

Look, I gotta go.
I gotta go get ready for--

Claire, please,
just give me one more chance.

I swear to you,
I will never hurt you again.

I will make you
the happiest girl, I promise.

I gotta go.

By the way, I like what
you've done with the place.

I guess I started the blog
as a way to vent,

but also as a way to test

whether some of my suspicions
about dating were true.

If you were a psychologist,
you might say I do it

to distract myself
from confronting my own issues.

But... I think
it's more than that.

You think you're
hurting the people

- you go on these dates with?
- Why?

Are you gonna be
interviewing them too?

No, I don't think so.

I'm very upfront with them.

I tell them that
I only go on one date

and that I've
taken a vow of celibacy.

And...

so-- sometimes
they try to convince me

to break those rules,

but usually that just reinforces
my hypothesis about dating.

Some men have called
your writing "male bashing."

-Hmm.
-What do you think?

I think the men have
their problems with women,

and women have
their problems with men.

Being a woman,
I choose to write about topics

which relate to my own gender.

Have you met anyone

who's made you wanna
go on a date with him again,

but you haven't
because of your rules?

You know, I-- I guess I've met

a few people that I might've
dated when I was younger.

You know,
when you just date to date.

But no, I haven't--

I haven't really
met anyone that...

I've connected with on
a real or meaningful level.

What would you do
if you met someone

who you did feel
a connection with?

Run.

So you think that
the feeling two people get

when they fall in love
is a temporary illusion?

I-- I think that love...

is a unique kind of disease.

You know, it overcomes people.

And they like it 'cause
it distracts them from reality.

And it's a mutual distraction.

But whether slowly or quickly,

the real world starts to
creep back into people's minds

and the disease
begins to run its course.

Some people will cling on
to the relationship

and to the memories
because they're desperate

to try and maintain
or reinvigorate that feeling

that they had
when they were first in love.

And then other people will wanna
get out of the relationship,

and frequently they do so by...

...acting terribly
towards the people

that they love
to drive them away.

Then you have
that third group of people

who stay in the relationship
despite the fact

that they're no longer in love

because they're terrified
of being alone.

The result is always the same.

The disease
always runs its course.

Sadly, it's inevitable.
It's just a fact of life.

I noticed that you're married.

Do you mind me asking

if you personally agree
or disagree with my philosophy?

I've been happily married
for 16 years.

Yes, some of the excitement
wears off,

but I think
navigating through life

with someone
can be very rewarding.

And I don't think
we're still married

because we're clinging
to old memories.

We continue
to make great new ones.

Well, forgive me,
but one could argue

that your new memories
are events

which just distract you
from your monotony.

And that your efforts
are in fact attempts

to just recreate
the feeling you had

when the relationship was new.

Personally,
I don't see a problem

with continuing to
keep a relationship

feeling new constantly.

But back to you.

What do you think will happen
now that you're going to have

a public reputation
for sexless one night stands?

You used the word "sexless."

Is your implication
that now people will know

I'm not having sex that they
won't wanna date me anymore?

It's a loaded question.

Well,
it was a loaded implication.

I think plenty of men
would like to shake you

from your one-date rule, but...

I'm not sure all men
would do that for every woman.

I don't know.

I never intended for it to start
blowing up the way that it is.

It was really
just an outlet for me.

And I'm not condoning
my lifestyle for anybody else.

I'm just writing what I believe
are honest words about dating.

I don't think all men are
looking for sex on a first date.

That being said,
you can't overlook the truth

that most initial attractions
come from physicality.

Touché.

So this article you're writing,

are you gonna paint
a nasty portrait of me?

One's portrait is never finished
until they die.

You still have a long time
to finish the painting.

The article
will be up by the weekend.

I look forward to reading it.

-Claire.
-Hey, Mom.

Claire,
I read that article about you.

Oh, yeah,
that was a really fun interview.

Frankly, honey,
it makes you look like a slut.

Mom!

Are you kidding me?
Did you even read the article?

I've taken a vow of celibacy.

It's, like,
the opposite of being a slut.

But the things you write about
don't make it look that way.

Oh, if your dad reads that,

-if he hears about--
-He will what, Mom?

You don't have to
worry about it.

I've already started
looking for apartments.

And I might even have a job
at that paper soon.

So I'll be on my feet
and outta your hair in no time.

We didn't raise you
to be like this.

You were a good girl.
What happened?

Do you really need to
ask me that?

You were there.

Mom...

you gotta stop walking around

acting like bad things
never happen.

They do.

However, if you're looking for
someone to worry about,

maybe you should focus
on your other daughter.

They say be careful
what you wish for.

Well, I was starting to wish
I had never started the blog.

It had taken over my life.

I just needed to get
some space from it all.

But people were starting to
recognize me everywhere I went.

It was getting exhausting.

Claire?

-What?
-Are you Claire from that video?

What video?

You look just like the girl
in the Nightingales' new video.

-Is that you?
-No, no.

It definitely is you.
You write that blog.

-Can I go out with you?
-No. Definitely not, no.

What? Are you gonna run
next to me the whole time?

I'm thinking about it.

No way.

Hmm.

Who is this?

Doh! What do you want?

Oh, God.

Wow.

This is quite a surprise.

Long time, no speak.

Hey, Claire.

You're not the crazy who's been
sending me flowers, are you?

If I said yes,

would it give me
a date with you?

Um, no.

I've read your blog.

It's a really creative way
to get over someone.

Thanks.

Why are you calling?

I just wanna
go on a date with you.

I-- I know
you have all these rules.

Read about it in your blog,
and I think that's just fine.

I think we should catch up.

Well, maybe
I don't feel like catching up.

All right. Call me back
when you change your mind.

Okay. But you might be waiting
an awfully long time.

I'll wait forever.

I was
such a sentimental fool.

I'd kept the CD
he gave me in my glove box

since the day we broke up.

Tells you how old my car is.

Fuck!

-Really?
-You creeped me out. I'm sorry.

That also felt good
for other reasons.

You look hideous.

I'm suddenly reminded
why we haven't spoken.

Oh. Well, I've never
needed to be reminded why.

Oh, so you can pinpoint
a singular reason

why we didn't work out?

Why did you wanna see me?

I left Jessica.

Oh, so you figured you'd just
find comfort in your ex, huh?

Pretty much.
Read that story about you,

realized I missed your awful
personality and ugly face.

And I just had to see you.

You're lucky
I'm letting you see me at all.

I never got over you, Claire.

So, um, I've been receiving
mysterious flowers.

Were they from you?

I never gave you flowers
when we were together.

I know you didn't like them.

Why would I get started now?

Hmm. Good point.
I just figured I'd ask.

So is--
is this gonna make the blog?

Ah, it's getting chilly
out here, isn't it?

I see
you still don't answer questions

you don't feel like answering.

What is this?

It's nostalgic. You like it?

You know, I have
a "one date, no sex" rule.

I have read all about it,
and I think it's admirable.

The "no sex" part.

Come on, let's go
somewhere without lake effect.

Claire!

-What was that in there?
-What?

You tried to kiss me.

Why did we break up?

You were there.
I-- I cheated on you.

No, no, no.
I mean, why didn't we work out?

I don't know.

Maybe we were just too young.

You found someone else,
so I found someone else.

But I never stopped
thinking about you.

Kyle.

I can't do this. You know that.

Oh, fuck! I'm so confused.

I'm-- I'm a hypocrite.
I'm a mess.

You shouldn't be
around me right now.

You need to leave.

You're right.

I guess our one date's up.

It was good to see you, Claire.

The first love,

someone who you
willingly give away

the last of your innocence to.

And you never get it back.

Tonight, I re-met my first love,

and it affected me more
than I could have anticipated.

- Um, Claire?
- Mm.

You got flowers.

They were out
on the doorstep this morning.

You keep them. Give them to Dad.

Don't you
wanna know where they're from?

No, I don't know
where they're from.

Well, it's probably on the card.

- There's a note?
- Mm-hmm.

You're kidding, let me see.

Thanks, Mom.

-Hi.
-Hi.

Um, I'm looking for someone,
I'm not sure who.

-Is, like, a guy here?
-Sure. You must be Claire.

-Yeah.
-You can follow me.

Just follow me right this way.

Oh, dear. That guy.

Thanks.

- Hi.
- Hey.

-You.
-Me.

You're the one who's been
sending me all the flowers.

Why?

You know, I just really
want a second chance, you know.

-Ah.
-Take a seat.

I don't remember voluntarily
giving you a first chance.

Well, let me make it up to you.
I'll buy you dinner.

Um, I never told you
where I work,

and I never gave you
any of the addresses

of the places that I lived.

Um, how-- how
did you always know

where I was gonna be?

You know, I'm just gonna
put this out there, Claire.

I think you are the most
special person I've ever met.

Am I gonna
get out of here alive?

You know,
I've read your blog and...

I feel like
I've known you forever.

And it's weird,
but, like, I just feel

like that guy
who can just help you.

What is he smoking?

Mm, that's really nice, um...

but honestly,

I kind of feel
like you're stalking me.

Oh, my God,
he's a full-on psycho.

Just please, you have to
just give me a chance.

Crazy personal alert.

Look, this is all really nice,

and, um,
romantic and everything.

Uh, it's just that I'm--
I'm just some girl

that you met one night at a bar
in her wedding dress.

I barfed in your house twice.

But beyond that,

you don't know
anything about me.

What is it that you think
you like so much?

It's just you were nice to me

that night at the bar.

Um, I'm glad I was nice,

but I was also
just a little bit drunk.

Like, kind of plastered,

wasted,
blind drunk out of my mind.

I had just left my wedding
earlier that day.

I mean, I was devastated.

I-- I just think that anything

that I said or did that night

probably, shouldn't be
taken too seriously.

You know, and I've-- I've
felt really guilty actually,

for what happened,
'cause I feel like...

the night we spent together...

may have influenced you
to live a lifestyle

that just isn't you.

You know, I guess,
what I'm trying to say is,

that your blog
isn't you, you know?

Let me be that guy who finds...

the girl that you really are.

Super nut job.

It's Ryan, right?

What's your last name again?

-Um, Ottman.
-Ottman.

Look, I really,
really appreciate all of this.

You obviously,
have really nice intentions.

And thank you
for setting this up,

and also, for sending
all those bajillions of flowers.

I mean, it was kind of like,
a lot of flowers, like, a lot.

Um...

but this-- this thing here,

the-- the thing between us...

it's not gonna happen.

I'm really sorry.

You're a super nice guy.

Um, but I-- I don't--

I don't want any more flowers.

I'm not really
a flower girl anyway.

Um, so, I'm gonna go,

but take care, okay?

-Claire.
-Bye.

-Claire.
-Thank you.

Claire.

-Hello?
-Hey.

I just saw an ad
for your opening.

How come I didn't know about it?

Oh, I'm sorry,
I-- I didn't tell you.

I-- I didn't know
we were on speaking terms yet.

-And also--
-What?

Uh, nothing.

So, what's up?

Well, you're still
dating that cop, right?

-Yeah.
-Well, I just found out

who's been sending me
all those flowers.

Do you think
that your guy would mind

doing a quick
background check for me?

The guy's name is Ryan Ottman.

He's 5'10,
brown hair, brown eyes.

Yeah. Yeah, sure,
just text me to details,

so I don't forget.

He's turning
into quite the stalker.

Mm. Creepy.

It makes me feel safer

that you're not living
here with me anymore.

-Too soon?
-Maybe a little.

So, why don't we
catch up at you're opening?

I think I'm gonna
be able to make it.

Yeah, sure. I'd love that.

Okay. Bye.

Donald had finally asked me
to come in and meet with

his colleagues, the editor and
the deputy editor of the paper.

I was so nervous,
I forgot to put deodorant on,

and I had clammy, clammy hands.

I just prayed
they wouldn't notice.

Good morning.

So good to see you, Claire.

Hi, Donald.
Great to see you.

These are two of my good friends
and coworkers at the paper,

Stacey and Colin.

-Hello.
-How do you do?

-Please, take a seat.
-Thank you.

We are big fans of your blog.

Really? Thank you.

Only we've noticed
that you hadn't been posting

quite as much lately.

Has your serial dating
begun to slow down?

I guess you could say that, yes.

But it's not that you're
running out of things to write?

Definitely not, no.

I have plenty to say,
it's just that I started

the dating blog, really,
as a form of therapy.

Um, I guess, I've also been
meeting people lately

that have tempered my enthusiasm
for dating a little bit.

So, if you could choose
anything to write about,

say, if you had your own column,
what would that be?

Well, I don't think
I would stick to just

dating and relationships.

I'd like to write
about a variety of topics.

You know, legal,
political, social,

things that really have
meaning within our community.

So, we listened to the tape
recording of your interview.

Would you say
that your writing would be

described as cynical
or man-hating?

I've definitely received that
kind of criticism on my blog,

but that blog is not the only
thing I've ever written.

It's just that once
I've chosen a theme for a piece,

I like to stick with it.

Consistency.

I like that in the writer.

Claire, we are looking for
a strong personality

to fill in a column here
at Community Weekly,

and we think you just might be
the right person for that.

What would you say
to something like that?

I guess I'd have to say yes.

Good, then, we'll be
calling you in the next few days

to go over a few more things,

and have you meet
a few more people,

and hopefully,
you'll be a great fit with us.

That sounds great.
Thank you so much.

Thank you for your time.
I really appreciate it.

And Donald, thank you.
You're the best.

Very impressive.

I told you you'll like her.

I was a little bit
nervous about seeing

Michelle again,
but it was time to make amends.

-Hi.
-Hey. Hey. Hi, Claire.

-Oh, gosh.
-So good to see you.

So good to see you.

-This is incredible.
-Oh, really?

-I'm so proud of you.
-Thanks. Thanks.

Yeah, I worked
really hard on it, so, yeah.

What's that?

- Oh.
- Is that-- Is that Kyle?

Oh, shit, right, uh, so,
after you and Kyle, you know,

uh, broke up, we stayed friends.

Just friends.

- Oh, I see.
- I'm sorry.

All right, I'm gonna leave
before I ruin your night.

Oh, great.

You're here too.

"Hey, Kyle. How are you?
Handsome as ever."

I know. Thank you.

Mm-hmm,
so, how come you never told me

that you and Michelle

stayed buddy buddies
after we broke up?

I thought you knew.

So, this is where
I make my exit.

Oh, wait, but before I do,
I have something to tell you.

So, that guy
that you were telling me about,

you know the one who's been
sending you all the flowers,

-total psychopath.
-No!

Yeah, apparently, he was
put in a psychiatric ward

for attempted suicide.

Yeah, he has
a really weird history.

- You're kidding.
- Just your kinda guy.

Shut up.

I'm really, really sorry

that I never
told you though, Claire,

that Kyle and I
are still friends.

I really, really hope
that you can forgive me.

Your work looks really awesome.

I am proud of you.

You should
get back to your admirers.

Thanks, Claire.

-Mm-hmm.
-I really didn't know

you were gonna
be here tonight, Claire.

Please, please,
don't follow that statement

by introducing me to the girl
you brought as your date.

I came alone
to support Michelle.

And the only date
I've been on recently

is with you.

That-- that wasn't a date.

That most certainly, was a date.

-No, it wasn't a date.
-Absolutely a date.

-Not a date.
-It was a date.

-No, it wasn't a date.
-It was a date.

-Not a date.
-It was such a good date.

-Not a date!
-A date.

-Not a date.
-Date.

Not a date.

-Not a date.
-Date.

So, um, I gotta ask,

you and Michelle never--
You never, um--

Claire, men can in fact,
believe it or not,

be just friends with women,
even if they are attractive.

Oh, so, you find
Michelle attractive, huh?

Oh, come on, like, you never
found anyone attractive

-when we were together.
-Uh...

well, maybe every other guy
I found very attractive.

A lot of guys
I found massively attractive.

Nothing happened
between Michelle and I.

I never even thought about it.

And I know
you're mad about this,

but I'm not the one
that lied about our friendship.

You said that
I couldn't even talk to you

after I said
I couldn't take you back, hmm?

I believe the word you were
looking for is "touché."

Hmm, okay.

This is true.

So,
I got a writing job offer today.

That's fantastic.
It's about time.

Yeah. I'm excited.

You should be.

Look at that one.
That's beautiful.

- Yeah.
- Very colorful.

Some really nice pieces here.

Did you see
that photo in the corner?

-Stunning. Look at that.
-Oh, no, I-- I actually--

I-- I didn't even notice that.

-It's great composition.
-You think?

No, I'd say it's not that great.

I don't like the subject,
you know, mediocre at best.

That's a pretty penny,
I'll tell you that.

-Oh, really? Why?
-Yeah.

Who'd wanna put
you on their wall?

Son of a bitch. That is me.

Oh, my God,
I didn't even know that.

What do you think
would've happened

if we'd met later in life?

Well, I think

I would've fallen for you just
as hard as I did in real life.

Mm, always the charmer.

Just excuse me
for just one second.

Claire, Claire, the--

What? Oh, my God!

All right, everybody,
get the fuck back.

So, I bet
you weren't expecting that.

Me either.

Ladies, the lesson here
is if you're out there

serial dating
or meeting strangers online,

you do run the risk
of meeting the odd nut job

stalker or sociopath.

Turns out Ryan
had been stalking me

from the very beginning.

He was clinically insane,

but I truly felt for him.

In the end,
he was just looking for love.

Maybe they were
all looking for love.

One thing was for sure:

it was the universe telling me
to stop serial dating.

Not surprisingly, Kyle
kinda ghosted me after that.

It was finally
time to hang up my hat.

"Dear friends,
followers and haters,

I began this journey
pretty jaded and cynical.

I was hurt, I'd seen
so many women in my life

get their hearts broken,
even my own mom.

I guess
I'd never really acknowledged

how sad that made me.

All I wanted was a guy
that wouldn't do the same to me.

And there I was,
on my wedding day,

and all my worst fears
were realized.

I was just one more girl
who'd had her heart broken

by the man she loved.

Proving all men
have flaws made me feel

less alone in my own pain.

But now,
the pain has dissipated.

And what's left
is the realization

that there's good and bad
in all of us, including me.

And while
the arc of the dating universe

may be long,
it bends towards love.

But we can't place
all our happiness and self-worth

in finding a partner.

We have to find
happiness within ourselves.

This will be my final entry.
I'm going offline.

It's time to start over,
and find out who I really am."

First thing on my mission list

was moving
out of my parents' house

and getting a place of my own.

Jared and I
let bygones be bygones

and decided to be good friends.

I even forgave my sister.

By the way, she got married,
and is expecting a little girl.

Tiffany realized she
really couldn't fill the void

in her heart with handbags,
so she split up with Tom

and sold her bags for 175 grand.

She invested in
her own tech startup,

which just
IPO'ed for $40 a share.

I finally managed
to persuade Fiona

that being a single mom
didn't have to mean

she couldn't
get out of the house.

So she found a nanny,

and then found the love
of her life, Caroline.

I took some time to recalibrate.

Nature's good for that.

And then, I met someone.

Sure, he was short,
senior, and a little graying,

but we were just meant to be.

I got the new apartment

and moved out of
my parents' place at last.

Turns out,
someone's picture did sell

for a pretty penny after all.

I also took up dancing again.

Well, kind of.

Pina and I spent
the afternoons reading,

and enjoying
the start of summer.

Donald called and said I
officially

got the job at the paper.

I decided not to write
about dating anymore.

I developed
a keen interest in politics,

so I started covering
the goings-on in Washington DC.

Humans are always
in search of a connection.

After the bond,
it's the discovery.

More often than not,
it seems that we're all flawed

in thinking that these people
we cherish in our lives

will simply be there
no matter what.

We forget that relationships
require nurturing

and giving part of yourself
to another person.

And that's when
the connection gets tested.

Failed relationships
leave us with a void.

We all try to fill that void
and that emptiness

with a new person.

That saying
"Time heals everything,"

I call bullshit.

Time helps,
but do we ever really heal?

No, but maybe we can grow.

In the beginning
everything is new, fun,

intriguing, and interesting.

And every once in a while,

two people have
what it takes to make it last.

They forgive, find compassion
and companionship.

I've called love a disease.

I've said that
people enjoy the feeling

because it distracts them
from reality.

But what if I was wrong?

Maybe love isn't a disease.

Maybe it's a drug
that might just be able to cure

even the most broken-hearted.

-Article's finished.
-Right on time.

As usual.
You have a visitor here.

What are you doing here?

Old habits die hard, I guess.

I'll leave
the two of you alone.

It is really,

really good to see you.

About before,

I wanted--
I wanted to say that I'm--

Sorry.

Don't worry about it.

- Wa, wa, wa.
- Wa, wa, wa.

All right,
let's do it, let's do it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I'll have scotch straight up,

whiskey on the back, and-- Fuck!

-Do it in--
-Looks like the Milky Way,

-not the, uh, The Big Dipper.
-The galaxy?

I love this.

- Ah, boo!
- Boo!

Oh, my God, that was
so good, I want to see one more.

You're teaching me
to be an asshole.

It was so good.

Are you ready?
I'm trying to work here.

I got it. I got it. I've got it.

-I've got this.
-We do have it.

Catering--
Paid for the catering,

paid for the photo booth.

I paid for, uh-- Paid for--

-Oh, my God. Stop!
-I'm so, so sorry, Father.

I seriously look too frightful?

It's great.

You gotta stop!

-It was beautiful.
-Thank you.

Wait, now, I'm really crying.

You need to give me
the first check.

Come down.

- Mr. Sam Page.
- Hey.

Here he is. Doing stuff.

Every time,
we're gonna see how it's done.

We're gonna start eating.

Well...

So, for the Women's Wound--

Wounded Women's March.

- Let's say just--
- Wound--

- Ready, Goldilocks?
- Take one.

Shut up.