Head Over Heels

This is Grinnell, Iowa, my hometown,

Where my family and all of my friends live.

But I'm not there now.

I'm here.

New York City.

Home to eight million people,

roughly half of whom are men.

Which means half of the city is genetically

predisposed to lie to the other half.

You see, I'm the woman who has the world's

worst judgment in men.

I know what you're thinking.

You might think that you do,

but you don't. I do.

My grade-school boyfriend,

Tommy, left me for...

someone with boobs.

My high-school boyfriend,

Charlie, left me for,

Well, someone who didn 't have any boobs.

Amanda. This isn't what it looks like.

But that's all behind me now.

I have a great job restoring paintings

at the Metropolitan Museum.

I'm in the Renaissance art division,

Where the men are easier to deal with.

There you are, handsome.

So there's this new hottie upstairs

in 20th-century sculpture.

She is so sweet, and I swear I'm gonna be gettin'

all up in there, and I'm gonna be--

Lisa, you are crossing the sharing boundary again.

But seriously, we have to put in for transfers.

Renaissance is a dead end.

We're gonna end up like the menopause triplets there.

What? Hmm?

I don't think I could ever leave Renaissance.

I would miss these paintings way too much.

I mean, they're just so romantic and--

- Shit. Here comes old man Rankin. Look busy.

- Oh! Rat farts!

I am busy.

Help me look busy.

- Afternoon, ladies.

- When will we go to the Poconos again?

Amanda, I need your help.

Take a look at this piece of crap.

Oh, my God, it's--

That's Titian's The Bacchanal.

- Oh!

- There she goes again.

Look at this man's face.

It's completely lost.

You're gonna have to start from scratch on that.

Put aside your other work, Amanda.

This is priority number one for now.

Oop!

What's with you and this weak-in-the-knees routine?

You do it every time you get a new painting.

I do not.

Not every time.

I mean, when I look at this painting,

I can just tell that these people were in love...

and they stayed in love until the day that they died.

Amanda, it's a painting.

If this were real life, in two years,

that girl would be pregnant and that guy

would be out banging a barmaid.

Maybe that's why I like art better than real life.

They can stay in love forever.

Speaking of real life, aren't you supposed

to have one tonight, for a change?

Oh, sh--

That's right.

I was gonna surprise

Michael with dinner.

What's so funny?

Nothing. Just that you're going to die alone.

- What?

- She's going to die alone!

Ohh.

Seriously, why do I need a personal life

if my work makes me happy?

Because work isn't enough.

You need someone to share your life with.

And if you give up on that now,

it might not be so easy to find later.

Polly, could I see you in my office?

I need to have a look at the, uh, restoration reports.

Oh, God. Do you think that could be me one day?

No. If it got that bad, I'd shoot you...

and put you out of your misery.

Think I better go see Michael.

Michael?

Oh, shit.

Uh, Amanda, this...

isn't what it looks like.

Huh. It looks like you're having sex...

with a woman from the cover of a lingerie catalog.

- In our bed.

- Uh--

Amanda, you know what your problem is?

Hmm?

You think everybody's basically good,

and you fall for them right away.

There are four million men in New York.

Why can't I find one good one?

Just one. Just one.

You know? Just one.

Remember when you saw the Titian

and you got weakin the knees?

Have you ever felt that way about a guy?

Lisa, please.

Real women don't get weak in the knees

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