Love Stinks Page #2

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Stay calm.

Let me just change into something

a little less matrimonial.

Be right back.

Seems to be a theme running

through your reading material.

You mean the bridal magazines?

My mom sends those to me.

For some reason, my biological

clock is ticking in her body.

Those moms.

She's threatening

to adopt grandkids.

I would love to find someone

to share my life with...

and start a family.

- How do you feel about kids?

- I can't wait to have kids.

Yeah, tired of mowing my own lawn.

Do you have a cat?

Not a cat.

The cat of all cats.

Gracie, come say hi.

That's okay.

I'm deathly allergic.

I wheeze.

There's my baby girl.

Come here.

Look at her.

She's a cutie.

Any chance we could shave her...

and seal her in Saran Wrap?

He doesn't mean that,

sweetheart.

So far,

it was the perfect first date.

You even got her back

to your place.

Just keep in mind that I've

only been here three months.

What do you think?

The Sony PlayStation...

That really warms up the room.

Yeah, I thought so too.

That's why I put it there.

Moving on.

Please, go into the dining area.

Come on. Stay with the group.

No flash photography, please.

This place could be

so warm and cozy.

It's just not.

No, it's not.

A rat hole, really.

Let's go in here.

This is a room I like

to reter to as the other room.

Clever.

I'm just guessing

that you're an Elvis fan.

Yeah.

He may not be with us,

but he lives on through his plates.

Moving on.

And, finally, in keeping

with my theme of simplicity...

the master bedroom.

- You need me.

- Yes, I do.

You're hired.

- Smart man.

- Yeah.

So just tell me what you want,

and I'll make it happen.

Really? I can think

of one thing that I want.

Stop. I have a rule.

A rule? Already?

Let me guess.

"Never kiss a client."

You're fired.

My rule is

I never sleep with a man...

unless we've had at least

three meals together.

Three?

We had dinner at the rehearsal.

That's one.

And I'm ready

for a little breaktast.

Meal number two.

Breaktast at a mini-mart.

I don't deserve this.

That's where you're wrong.

You do deserve this.

This is the best microwave

egg burrito in town.

Plus, I needed gas,

so it's pretty convenient.

Here you go.

Take two. They're small.

There you go.

You know, I know

what we should do next.

- We are not eating lunch.

- Man.

Tiger, I found your ball.

I guess I used

a little too much club.

After 18 holes of professional

miniature golf, I'm famished.

You're hungry.

What a surprise.

It's actually lunchtime

in Paris.

So that would be

meal number three.

All conditions satisfied.

It we do this, it means

that I stop dating Richard...

and you stop dating Amber

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