Spread

My whole life, it was obvious

I was gonna end up in this city.

I don't want to be arrogant here,

but I'm an incredibly attractive man.

I can't help it.

I don't try to be. I just am.

When I was a kid, my mother's

best friend used to tell me

that I was gonna be

a little heartbreaker.

Turns out she was right.

Her husband came home

from work one day

and found us f***ing

on the Stairmaster.

Los Angeles, California.

That's where all the beautiful little

heartbreakers go to live and dream.

every single month.

and queens

and Little Miss Cute Tits,

every one of them

with stars in their eyes

and a dream in their heart.

When I first came out here,

I had a dream...

a dream of an easy life.

I was gonna get rich

from lyin' around

having my picture taken.

I was gonna live in the hills

and drive a noisy yellow sports car

and f*** 6' girls

who weighed 89 lbs.

Guess what? Most of it came true.

Hey, handsome!

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

- Excuse me.

- What's up?

Good to see you.

- You're here a little early, man.

- Well, you know, a boy's gotta eat.

# I don't wanna tell you #

# 'Cause you're lookin'

that way #

# Turn around and wonder

how you keep up #

# With things that

I don't want to tell you #

# 'Cause you're lookin'

that way #

# Turn around and wonder

how you keep up #

# With things that

I don't... #

Some men remember breast feeding.

I do not.

I do remember seeing

my mother in the shower once.

She had a giant

mound of pubic hair.

It caused me an aversion

to all things untrimmed.

Ah. Meet Jen.

She has a bush like the outback.

Strong hands though.

I like that.

Let's see.

Ah, Shelly.

Ladies, if you want tits,

go to Canada.

They just do 'em better up there.

Don't ask me why.

I don't remember her name.

But I do remember the look on her face

when she found out I was

also sleeping with her sister.

But tonight I'm not looking

for the tight skin of a 20-year-old.

I am in need of assiduation

and that changes the game.

Ah, here we go.

The jacket's Dolce,

the jeans are by Helmut Lang

and the complexion comes

from a strict regimen of facials.

I'm guessing

she drives a Mercedes.

By the way,

there's only one pick-up line.

Everything else is cheese.

Hi. What's your name?

- Samantha.

- Hi, Samantha.

I'm Nikki.

- I'm leaving.

- Really?

Why?

- It's late.

- You're right.

We should get going.

So wait a second.

You had dinner here?

What'd you have?

I had a salad.

- What kind of salad?

- A Greek salad.

You had a Greek salad

at a French restaurant?

I like that.

Oh. Valet, huh?

I bet you're a bad driver.

You want me to drive?

I'll flip you for it. Here.

Heads, I drive;

tails, you drive.

- There it is.

- It's tails. You flipped it.

You always flip it.

Don't be a sore loser.

Look, you're cute and everything,

but you're not coming home with me.

Thank you.

You're gonna have to do

better than that.

"You're cute and everything"?

What is that?

I was trying not to be rude.

- You're far from rude.

- Aww.

I'll help you out.

Tell me that you're married.

I am not married.

That would be a lie.

You're not.

Tell me that you're madly in love

with someone.

- That would also be a lie.

- Mm-hmm.

Then tell me why I can't

come home with you.

I don't know you.

Roll the windows down,

turn the music up

and make an ass out of yourself.

It puts them at ease.

It's nice.

Peter Bogdanovich

used to live here.

Hmm. I bet he did.

What's that supposed to mean?

Never show you're impressed.

It lowers your market value.

Do you want a drink?

I don't drink.

Come here.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes