Basically, my point is not that you listen to people to learn anything interesting. You're doing it to be nice and make them like you, because everyone likes to talk.

But this theory did not apply to Rachel, somehow. I would go to her house determined to get her to do the talking, and then I'd show up and pretty soon I would be talking more than someone who was on crystal meth.

INT. RACHEL'S BEDROOM - DAY The second or third time that GREG has gone over to RACHEL'S. Both are sitting cross-legged on the floor.

GREG.

So. What TV do you like watching?

RACHEL.

Whatever's on, I guess.

GREG.

unnerved by the calm blankness of this response So, like. Nature shows? Reality shows? Just, everything's fair game?

RACHEL.

Yeah, pretty much.

GREG.

Not the Food Network though.

Rachel shrugs.

GREG.

Here's my thing with the Food Network: OK, half the time the food looks gross, or weird. It's covered in weird sauce that looks like s.e.m.e.n, or it's squid in a goat hoof or something. But then, the other half of the time, if it's something good, and people eat it, and they're like, Mmmmm, this is delicious-that's even worse! Because you don't get to eat it. You're just watching these people eat something delicious, and you don't even get to know what it tastes like, and you want to kill yourself. But most of the time the food doesn't look that good.

RACHEL.

diplomatically Some people think it looks good.

GREG.

OK, but then here's the other thing: It's always a food compet.i.tion. Food isn't a sport. It's ridiculous for cooks to be competing against each other. Like in Iron Chef, it always takes place in Kitchen Stadium. Kitchen Stadium? That's ridiculous. And at the end it's always like, You have competed honorably. How is it possible to be dishonorable? You were making a stew.

RACHEL.

giggling Hmmmm.

GREG.

I mean, if the Food Network can turn food into a sport, why draw the line there? You know? "Iron Plumber, tonight at Toilet Arena." Or, or, no wait. Wait, forget that one. "Live, from Toilet Center: Super p.o.o.pers."

Four hours later. Greg and Rachel are in EXACTLY THE SAME POSITION.

GREG.

. . . I guess my point is just that, it's weird that we have animals living in our homes. It's just weird.

RACHEL.

I should probably go eat dinner.

GREG.

alarmed Wait, what time is it?

RACHEL.

It's around eight.

GREG.

Holy f.u.c.k.

In her quiet way, Rachel was actually being sort of brilliant.

1. Rachel was using my own tactics against me. Props to her. This is some high-concept judo behavior. She orchestrated our conversations so that I did the talking and she did the listening. Sure enough, this made me like spending time with her. I told you this tactic is awesome. Also, she kicked a.s.s at listening. I mean, in her position, I would have gotten really bored or annoyed. Super p.o.o.pers, Greg? Christ.

2. Rachel was not suggesting that we had to make out or get married. Even though I had told her that I had been deeply in love with her, she was not trying to make up for lost time. This probably would have caused me to freak out and maybe fake having a serious mental disorder, which is a tactic that I have considered from time to time to get out of situations. If I ever got jumped in the locker room by jocks, for example. On TV, jocks like to hara.s.s kids with mental disorders, but in real life, I've observed that everyone pretty much just wants to stay away from them. Anyway, I was worried this would become necessary with Rachel, but thank G.o.d it did not.

3. By getting me to talk so much, Rachel was eventually going to get me to divulge sensitive information that would ultimately lead to my downfall. Am I giving too much away? Maybe I'm giving too much away.

INT. RACHEL'S BEDROOM - DAY GREG'S third or fourth time at RACHEL'S. Greg has noticed that one of the pictures of HUGH JACKMAN is sort of wall-eyed, and one of the EYES is following him around the room. Rachel has just stopped talking.

GREG.

distracted What?

RACHEL.

I wasn't really saying anything important.

GREG.

Sorry, Hugh Jackman's creepy right eye is following me around your room.

RACHEL.

He's not creepy!

GREG.

What were we talking about?

RACHEL.

Hebrew school.

GREG.

Right. What a waste.

RACHEL.

You think?

GREG.

I learned nothing. Seriously, I can't tell you anything about Jews. I am a Jew, and I still deserve an F in Jewishness.

RACHEL.

I think it's "Judaism."

GREG.

See, that's what I'm talking about. I don't even know what to call it. And I definitely don't know what Jews believe. Like, do Jews believe in heaven? Are we supposed to believe in that?

RACHEL.

I don't know.

GREG.

Yeah. Is there Jewish heaven? What happens when Jews die? You know?

HUGH JACKMAN is glaring at Greg.

GREG.

Oh s.h.i.t.

RACHEL.

What?

GREG.

hastily Uh, nothing. Sorry, I'm an idiot.

RACHEL.

For what?

GREG.

Uh.

about as stupidly as it is possible to say words The death thing.

RACHEL.

Greg. I'm not dying.

GREG.

lying Yeah, I know.

RACHEL.

narrowing eyes I'm sick, but everyone gets sick. Just because you're sick doesn't mean you're going to die.

GREG.

falsely Yeah yeah yeah yeah, no, yeah.

RACHEL.

You think I'm about to die.

GREG.

just lying his a.s.s off No! No-o-o-o-o.

RACHEL.

warily Huh.

INT. RACHEL'S BEDROOM - DAY GREG'S fourth or fifth time at RACHEL'S. Greg is on the bed with his back to HUGH JACKMAN, although that means he has to face DANIEL CRAIG in a Speedo with a big goofy smile on his face.

DANIEL CRAIG.

You can see the outline of my genitals! Isn't this great?

RACHEL.

giggling That's not what Daniel Craig even sounds like.

GREG.

I have to warm up. I'm not in Accent Mode.

RACHEL.