My Last 5 Girlfriends Page #5

---

between us had started to appear.

Why did Rhona insist

on walking everywhere?

Why did she always

complain in restaurants?

Excuse me?

Why did she never have

more than six hours sleep?

Why did she find

Patch Adams so funny?

Why did we have to have sex

at every conceivable opportunity?

And why-oh-why

was she so bloody clumsy?

It was like Rhona

was a wonderful symphony orchestra,

but one or two of the players

were slightly off-key.

- Do you fancy going to a club?

- OK. Or we could go to the cinema.

No, you're right, let's go to a club.

Those shoes came

to symbolise our differences

and the need to gently accommodate

each other's bum notes.

Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.

- You don't like them?

- Frankly, I don't.

Why not?

I just don't like that kind of shoe.

- It looks like a pelican.

- It's elegant.

- No, it's not.

- Yes, it is.

Look at the heel and the bow.

I think you're on your own

with this one, Rhona.

You don't know anything about fashion.

That may be, but I know a horrible shoe

when I see one.

It's not horrible. You're jealous

I bought a new pair of shoes.

I'm trying to tell you how I feel.

I really don't think they're suitable

for the party tonight.

Well, that's great. 'Cause that's

why I f***ing bought them.

- Well, so wear them.

- Now, I can't, can I?

- Why not?

- Because a minute ago,

you told me I looked like

a pelican wearing them.

Why did I have to tell her?

Why couldn't I have lied?

- Haven't you got any milk?

- There's some at the back.

- Hang on a second.

- A few days earlier,

I noticed Mr. Paul, our local newsagent,

was wearing thick grey socks

and brown leather sandals.

They were spectacularly ugly.

But did I say...

You're not gonna keep wearing

those sandals, are you, Mr. Paul?

- Why not?

- Because they're disgusting

and frankly rather offensive.

Of course I didn't,

because I'm not in love with Mr. Paul.

So why did I spare his feelings

and not Rhona's?

I suppose we could have just politely

tolerated each other's differences.

But you see, I didn't want

to end up like my parents.

Good night, dear.

Good night.

Why can't you keep

your opinions to yourself?

Because I care about you, Rhona.

Someone has to tell you when you've

bought a pair of disgusting shoes.

Anyway, why do you care

about what I think?

Because I want you to like them.

I bought them hoping you'd like them,

and now you're telling me

I look like an alien wearing them.

Why does everything I do

always have to be wrong?

Come on, don't throw that one at me.

You know that's not true.

Yes, it is.

You don't even like my shoes.

I like almost everything else.

So why can't you forget

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes