Bad B*tch

People don't have real conversations.

They... they just don't.

What's a real conversation?

I mean, you have to actually risk

something, put something out there

say something bold, outrageous.

I mean, most of the time, it's like the same,

hey, how are you doing?

Oh, I'm doing fine.

Ugh!

Or just, like, we're swiping around on these things.

I mean, don't you just wish someone would just

say something real for once?

Challenge you, push you?

How?

I don't know.

I kind of would love it if someone was like

um, they said, hey, I just pounded five energy drinks and I

stayed up till, like, 3:00 in the morning playing my harp

in the underwear situation.

Or I mean, it would totally be cool if someone was like,

hey, what's with the tiles?

How come 90% of them are, like, the same squares that are, like,

all the same size?

Even if they tell you about the good cup of coffee

they had in the morning, or the bad cup of coffee?

Yes.

Or, you know, they remind you of how they've

grown since their youth.

OK.

What turns them on, what turns them off.

Mm, girl!

You talking my language.

Like, what magic holds them together

when everything else is falling apart.

Mm!

Yes, exactly.

Oh, my god.

You sure you don't want one of these?

These are pretty freaking great.

No, I'm just not that into sugar.

Oh, I call bullshit.

You are so into sugar.

I have known you since kindergarten.

You were definitely into sugar.

People just say that to make themselves feel

better about not eating it.

Are you on Atkins?

Keto?

Paleo?

South Beach?

Ooh, wait.

Zone?

No.

5:2?

5:2?

OK, it's not that I'm not into sugar.

I would eat sugar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I could.

Mm-hmm.

But dad used to

dad used to have a saying about, well, sugar and

you should eat it like people drink champagne.

So special occasions, you know?

At your birthday, at Christmas.

Any time you do something so amazing,

you exceed what you thought was possible.

Hmm.

But when you do eat it, you eat it with purpose.

You eat it slow, with intention.

Take it all in, you know?

Anyway, I've got this king-sized dark chocolate bar on my desk

at work.

And when the time is right, that'll be my champagne.

I miss your dad.

Yeah, me too.

What's my birthday again?

June.

And it's?

October.

Mm-hmm!

All right, close enough.

How do you like my champagne, darling?

(MIMICS VICTORIAN ACCENT) Only the best

for the one and only Estella.

Ooh!

So do you consider this a real conversation?

This is what I live for... the bold conversations, the ones

that make you feel that warmth in the pit of your stomach

because they actually mean something.

Yeah.

I mean, I wish women had these kind of conversations in movies,

you know?

Oh, my gosh.

I know, right?

Ugh!

Half the time, the guy they're stuck with,

they get the philosophical conversations,

and we get, like, hair and makeup and, like...

Sex.

Sex.

Or how about when they give the cute little, like, odd little

hobby that's supposed to be so attractive to the cute guy

we're about to date?

Exactly... classic.

Classically lame.

Mm!

But it is a little bit better in books, but not by much.

No.

I mean, listen, we deserve so much more.

We deserve the philosophy, and the poetry,

and all the, like, cool, fresh, slick dialogue

they give to the guys.

I mean, ugh!

Plus, OK, let's be real, they learn all that from us anyway,

OK?

Right?

Yeah.

I mean, they give us, like, tricks are for kids.

Oh, my god.

And then they get, the path of the righteous man

is beset on all sides.

Ugh, gross!

Lovely stuff, though.

Still...

Mm, what?

What if...

Yeah?

What if it's the question?

What do you mean?

How are you doing?

OK.

Like, what if... what if it was more

like, what are you curious about?

Yeah.

I mean... wait.

Yes, that's what I'm talking about.

Dude, what are you curious about today?

Yeah, exactly.

Like, it's like... it's inquisitive, but it doesn't pry.

It's got some poetry to it.

Damn, it's even philosophical, girl!

Yeah, I mean, I would...

Here comes trouble.

Boom

That's a mighty fine scoop of ice cream.

Hey, Finn.

Hmm?

Ain't that a mighty fine scoop of ice cream?

Mighty fine.

I think I'd like to have some.

What do you say?

Can I have a bite?

But daddy, it's mine.

Mm, bubblegum!

That's an ice cream and a gum.

We call that a twofer.

Finn, you want some?

Hmm, too sweet for me.

What does it feel like to know you're going to be nothing, just

like your daddy?

That you're going to be stuck in this town

paralyzed by fear, just waiting for the day

that they lower you in the ground off Gilmore Road

just so it can all be over.

I want to know, what does it feel like?

I don't like you!

You better teach her to have some respect for her elders.

Have some fun!

Aren't you supposed to have fun when you're eating ice cream?

Let's roll.

Later, suckers.

Why didn't you say anything?

What am I supposed to do?

Since his dad moved to Seattle, he owns half the town.

You know that.

Plus, he didn't break any laws.

I know I'm not supposed to say it, but I kind of have to.

OK, fine.

Do it.

Make it quick.

Why did you ever date that douche bag?

Oh.

Well, "date" is a pretty liberal term.

I would say more like a, um, regular hookup.

Don't dodge the question.

Oh, my gosh.

Fine!

He's exciting, OK?

Like, I know he's a total dick, but I don't know,

he's kind of fun.

And he throws the best parties, which

you would know if you actually got off your couch

or out of the library, girl.

Mm-hmm.

OK, fine.

Well, maybe I'll go to the next party with you.

I just felt like I had a little stroke there.

What... what did you say?