Original subtitles

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.