I can always tell
when I'm in love
because I am constantly
angry and disappointed.
I'm the most miserable
when I'm in a relationship,
and the happiest I am
when I'm in a relationship
is only in the beginning.
Only-- You know,
I love the newness.
You know, with all the promise
and the potential of it all,
and I can just project
everything I want
the other person to be.
But, you know, ultimately it all
falls to sh*t and it ends,
and it's all very disappointing.
When I meet someone
and I like them,
I carve out a piece of myself
to make room
for the other person.
And when they don't
quite fill up the space,
uh, in the way in which
I want them to
and, you know, if--
When they inevitably
vacate the space...
Oh, my God.
Does the space that
I carved out for them,
does that ache?
It is f*cking brutal
how bad it aches.
But when I'm single
and I'm, you know,
I'm no longer pining
for the last guy
and I'm not yet hooked
into some new person,
and I'm just completely tethered
to nothing and no one...
Oh, my God, that is the best
feeling in the entire world.
That is freedom.
And yet, I can't stop
looking for love.
Just, like, looking and hoping
and praying to find
this all-encompassing,
consuming, big, beautiful love
that, let's face it,
I'm probably never gonna find.
I'm jealous.
I'm angry. I'm controlling.
I don't trust them.
I can't feel their love.
I cannot for the life of me
feel another person's
love for me.
You know, and I'm so lonely.
Oh, my God, I am profoundly
lonely in relationships.
It's-- It's crazy.
And let me tell you,
there is a huge difference
between being lonely
when you're next
to someone and alone.
I'm-- I'm starting to think
that my type in men is, like,
you know, upright with a pulse.
I used to see a therapist.
I should probably go back.
He gave me homework.
He was like...
He was like,
"Stella, okay, Stella,
"stay away from men,
all right?
"They distract you,
they consume you,
"they disrupt your life.
They will destroy you.
Just stop dating. Just stop."
But I can't stop!
I can't stop. And I just--
I can't seem to reconcile
my never-ending quest for love
and my complete discomfort
in relationships.
But just anyway, sorry,
long story longer.
In answer to your question, uh,
no, I am not dating anyone.
I am completely single,
and I just got to New York.
Yeah. Why?
Do you have someone for me?
Lady, I am an Uber driver,
not an oracle.
Just find a nice guy
and settle down.
- Hey, Daddy.
- It's me. Stella.
Uh, it's been a minute.
I don't know if you know this,
but I just moved to New York,
and the whole city
reminds me of you
because you used
to take me here when--
When I was little.
Anyway, call me back.
I miss you, I love you.
This is a life's work.
Everything is exactly
as it needs to be.
I am enough.
I am grounded in myself.
I say yes to what is.
Ah! Oh, my God.
Welcome to New York.
Thank you so much
for having me.
When's the last time I saw you?
God, it's been forever.
-I don't know,
like two years maybe?
-Jeez.
-Wait, what are you drinking?
-Uh, it's sparkling apple cider.
You on, like,
antibiotics or something?
Because I think
that's just a myth.
Oh no,
I'm just taking a break
from drinking.
Oh, like AA, or...?
Not AA. I'm just--
I'm too fun.
I get too fun
when I drink, so.
Okay, I love that for you.
You got a cocaine plate.
And this one's a ketamine plate.
Okay, well, what happens
if people get them mixed up?
I have Narcan in my purse
in case anyone ODs.
Oh, great.
Well, I have a Tide pen in
my purse in case anyone spills.
So we are set.
Did I hear that
you were engaged?
I'm not engaged.
No, I just got out of something.
-Who told you I was engaged?
-What happened? My bad.
Oh, God. It was a nightmare.
Just a total mismatch
from the get-go.
I didn't listen to my gut.
My insides were eating
themselves the entire course
of our relationship.
Then I threatened
to k*ll myself.
Got on top of his roof
like I was gonna jump off,
and then I punched him
in the face at
a one-year-old's birthday party.
That's a lot.
So, wait, you have to meet
my friend Ruby.
-You guys are both from LA.
-Oh. Enchant.
Very nice to meet you.
So, Stella, what do you do?
I'm an unemployed writer.
Oh, blank canvas, we love.
So would I have read
anything you've written?
Maybe.
I used to write for magazines,
and I sold some scripts
that never got made,
but I don't know.
Yeah. What do you do?
-I'm an actress.
-Okay.
-Oh, do you want one?
-No, I don't smoke.
Mm.
-Is that an asthma inhaler?
-Oh, no. It's my breath spray.
I'm, like, totally addicted.
I love this stuff.
Hey, no smoking indoors,
please.
I'm friends with the host.
Narc.
What an as*h*le.
So where are you staying?
I'm house-sitting
for a friend in Tudor City.
Oh, where is that?
New Jersey?
New Jersey? No, no, no.
It's in Manhattan.
It's a very quaint,
charming part of town.
Like 42nd and First.
I know you.
I sent you that WeTransfer
of that movie you wanted.
WeTransfer tells the sender
when someone downloads
what you sent them,
and you never downloaded it.
And I'm just wondering
why you asked me
to send you a movie,
and I go out of my way to do it,
and I know you never
downloaded the WeTransfer,
and now it's expired.
Like, what was
the point of it all?
I really don't remember
what you're talking about.
Oh, you don't remember
what I'm talking about?
He doesn't remember
what I'm talking about.
You know what? f*ck this.
This is what's wrong
with the world.
-Can I do something?
-No, honey,
I'm gonna call you,
and I want to see you.
I like you.
I'm gonna gift you
a tarot reading.
Wait, I thought
you were an actress.
I'm a multi-hyphenate,
darling.
A multi-hyphenate.
Hello?
Are you okay?
-Bathroom.
-Oh, yeah.
Please.
Okay. Let me see.
-I just need it bad.
-Oh, sh*t.
-Are you okay?
-Yeah.
-Okay.
-Thank you.
Are you good?
-Oopsies.
-Mm!
No.
I say yes to what is.
Huh?
Oh, nothing.
Ooh!
You're on the narrow edge
of a precipice,
but it looks auspicious.
Romance or career?
Romance.
I mean, clarity
is of the utmost importance.
Like, what do you want
from the perfect paramour?
Oh, my God.
All I'm really
looking for in a guy
is someone
who's my height or taller.
Funny, handsome, successful,
my best friend
in the whole wide world,
isn't on social media
but likes all my posts,
adores me
but isn't a little b*tch p*ssy,
sends me flowers,
has a huge d*ck,
gets jealous but like in a sexy
non-a*usive kind of way.
Doesn't hate women,
enjoys my mood swings,
loves to go down to me
when I'm on my period,
even though I pretend
I don't want him to.
Licks my as*h*le
because he wants to devour me,
but does not want
to f*ck me in the a*s.
Isn't a cheater with
no living mother,
sister, children,
pets, plants, or female friends.
I mean, is that
too much to ask for?
Not at all, you queen.
So I'm at the beach
with my now ex, and, uh,
you know, I'm self-conscious
about all the usual things,
like how do I look
in my bathing suit?
Just, like,
very much in my head.
And all of a sudden,
this horrible stench wafts by.
Like, this disgusting,
putrid, rancid smell
just rolls on through.
And I'm thinking, "What is that?
Where's it coming from?"
What?
And all of a sudden,
I realize it's me.
This horrible stench
is coming from me.
Just some kind of, like,
yeast, bacterial, what have you,
just emanating from my vag*na,
I'm sure of it.
You know, he says nothing,
I say nothing,
but we both know it's me.
Anyway, so we-we-we
fold up all our towels.
We're getting ready to leave.
And just as we're about
to walk off,
I look to my right
and I see there's a dead,
rotting bird that had been there
the whole time.
Don't you see?
It wasn't me.
The smell of this raw,
rotting corpse, it wasn't me.
It was the f*cking bird.
And I should have been relieved.
And I was relieved.
But the sickest part
of the whole thing is,
why did I assume responsibility
for the stench of a raw,
decomposing bird?
And that's when it hit me.
It's a metaphor
for how I feel about myself.
I literally
just wanted to know
when the last time
you went to the beach was.
Thanks to that story,
I will never forget.
You're welcome.
Now, where is that waiter?
Hmm. Hmm.
Are you showing off
your rat tail?
I most certainly am.
I didn't grow it
to not show it off.
Can I-- Can I guess
your astrological sign?
Oh, please don't.
Please let me.
I'm so good at it.
-Okay.
-All right.
-Uh, you're an Aquarius.
-No.
-Sagittarius?
-No.
-Gemini.
-No.
-Cancer.
-No.
-Taurus?
-No.
-Leo.
-No.
-Aries.
-No.
-Virgo.
-No.
-Capricorn.
-No.
-Pisces.
-No.
-Scorpio.
-Yes.
-I knew it!
-There were none left.
Of course.
God, astrology
is such bullshit.
Oh, my God.
Classic Scorpio thing to say.
Is it?
I wish men would
just face the fact
that all women love Target,
Real Housewives, crystals,
Sex and the City and astrology.
Come in me! Come in me!
Come in me!
f*cking fill me up
with your hot c*m!
f*ck!
Oh, God.
Oh.
-Oh, God.
-Oh.
You're on birth control,
right?
No. Why?
Did you come in me?
You asked me to.
Did I?
Oh, God, I do that sometimes
when I get really carried away.
-Did you really come in me?
-You asked me to.
Who's gonna turn that down?
That's true.
Oh, my God, though.
Even if I told you
I was on birth control,
which I didn't,
because I'm not,
why would any man
come inside a girl
if he doesn't want
to make a baby?
That's crazy.
This could be like
a real life-ruiner, Max.
-f*ck.
-You're telling me.
No, I mean f*ck.
If I had known you were
gonna come in me,
I would have tuned in
to the feeling so I could know
what it actually feels like
to have someone come in me.
Okay, so no one's ever
come inside you before?
On me, yeah.
Near me, for sure.
In me? No, never.
Okay, well,
uh, I'm honored.
Um...
You didn't feel it at all?
Not even just a little bit?
Oh, no. No, don't feel bad.
No.
That's just because, like,
I'm really animated and wild
when I'm having sex.
I don't notice everything.
-I know. I was there.
-Yeah.
No, for me,
like, when I have sex,
it's like the one time I can
totally shut the world out.
You know, I consider it
the ultimate form of meditation.
Right.
Right, okay.
Um, so...
Uh, should I just go get
the morning-after pill for you?
I mean, you could.
Or...
I mean, I don't even think
I can have a kid anyway.
You know, I think I've already
aged out of having a baby.
So what if, like,
what if we hold off
on the morning-after pill,
I see if I even get pregnant,
and if I do...
If you still don't want a baby,
I'll get rid of it.
Or you can just, like...
I don't know.
I'll just raise as my own
and I won't even
let you know about it.
-Is that crazy?
-It's an interesting take.
That's not great, right?
That sounds like not ideal.
-I mean, I just think we'd have
such a beautiful baby.
-Yeah, definitely.
Uh, I'm sure we'd have
a beautiful baby.
But, I mean,
having a kid and not
telling me about it is...
But you said yourself
that you're not really sure
if you can't get pregnant.
And why don't we
just get to know each other
a little bit better before we
decide to have a baby together?
And I just go get the pill,
and you take it right now.
That's-- Okay, all right.
I was just spitballing anyway.
I know it sounded crazy.
But if I didn't throw it
out there then, like, you know.
-All right. All right.
-Okay, fine.
I'll go get it.
You don't go anywhere, okay?
-Okay. Mwah.
-Okay.
-Stay here, all right?
-Okay.
I'm-- I'm here.
- Yeah.
- I'm here.
- Hey, Daddy.
It's your daughter, Stella.
Be nice to talk to you.
Could you call me back?
I'm not feeling so great.
Oh, no, I didn't order this.
It's compliments
of the owner.
You know,
he likes to buy a pretty girl
a glass of champagne
if she's dining alone.
All right.
A prize for my bravery.
Okay, I'll-- I'll take it.
Thank you.
Wait, actually,
I'm not drinking.
Is there any way I could get,
like, a champagne flute
with a ginger ale in it?
-Sure.
-You know what?
No. This is--
I'm all over the place.
Okay, this is fine.
-Are you sure?
-Yeah. Yeah.
No, this is great, actually.
Thank you.
- Oh, hey. What can I get you?
- Hi.
Um, can I get a--
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God, I'm so sorry.
I don't mean to be so annoying,
but are you Leo Fontaine,
the editor-in-chief
of Conversation magazine?
-I am, yeah. Hi.
-This is wild. Hi.
-Uh, can I--
-No, oh, my God.
I hope this isn't your worst
nightmare, but I'm a writer,
and I would love to write
for your magazine.
Well, it's not
my worst nightmare, but, uh...
Could I send you
a writing sample?
Look, I'm just
with friends right now.
Of course. Yes. No, I'm sorry.
I'm being a total monster here.
-So--
-What are you drinking?
-A martini.
-A martini. Okay.
-Two martinis.
-No, no, no, no.
-That's not necessary.
-Yes. No, I insist, please.
A martini for Leo Fontaine.
Wow.
That's very nice of you.
All right, here.
Um, here's my card.
Send me some samples.
-Really?
-No guarantees. No promises.
Of course.
No, I'm just so grateful
for the opportunity.
-Thank you.
-Thank you.
- Two martinis.
- Thank you very much.
-Look at us. Cheers.
-Cheers.
-Bye-bye.
-If you want to join me...
No, no, no.
I'm here with friends.
I said that a few minutes ago,
remember?
-Absolutely.
-You gotta retain.
You're a writer.
-Yes, sir. Okay.
-Yes, sir. Yes, ma'am.
-Good night.
-Good night.
Wow. Oh, my God.
Leo Fontaine.
Was I embarrassing?
A little.
Really?
Too-- too aggressive.
- Oh.
- What?
-Are you on your period?
-No.
There's just, uh...
There's a lot of blood
on the bed.
Oh, no.
It's probably because
of the morning-after pill.
-It came early.
-Okay.
Are you okay?
Uh, yeah.
No, it just--
It reminds me of my ex.
Because she always
made sure to have a lot
of hydrogen peroxide
because it lifts
the blood from fabric.
What?
I'm sorry, I'm--
I'm not in a good place
right now.
I'm really f*cked up.
I just got out
of a really big relationship.
-Oh no!
-We were gonna get married,
and this is pretty toxic,
but I still love her.
-Oh.
-A lot.
Oh, no, no, no.
No, please don't fall
into a K-hole, please.
Hey, can you grab me
some of those leftovers,
please?
-Here.
-Thank you.
And a drink. Something--
Just something to drink.
Oh.
Do you want a fork
or something?
No.
Oh, God.
Oh!
It's okay.
Oh.
It's-- It's okay.
Oh, no, no.
Don't cry.
I don't want to cry.
Ugh, what a little b*tch.
I know, like,
doesn't he know that women
aren't rehabilitation centers
for unstable, insecure men?
Yeah, they're supposed
to be that for me.
Oh, my God. Who are you?
I'm-- I'm Stella.
You're so f*cking sexy.
-Am I?
-Yeah.
-Thank you!
-It's my birthday.
Happy birthday!
Mm.
Oh!
Oh, my God.
Will you just--
Will you be my valentine?
Valentine? It's-- It's May.
-But I want to see you again.
-Okay, okay!
Let's meet tomorrow.
-Please.
-Yes.
Let me give you my number.
-Yes. Um, put it in here.
-This is crazy.
-Okay.
-Yeah.
My goodness.
There you go.
Nice to meet you.
- Did you see that?
- Oh, my God.
Crazy!
I'm, like, all upset
about some guy.
-It's like you never know
what's around the corner.
-You never know.
And there he is.
Yes! We're getting
drinks tomorrow.
It's my birthday.
Ooh! I still got it. Okay!
Compliments of the owner.
Oh, no, I'm not alone.
I'm actually, uh...
I'm waiting for someone,
so yeah.
He's not coming, sweetheart.
You don't even know
who I'm waiting for.
I know everyone.
I'm the guy.
-You're the guy?
-Yeah.
And I see you in here
all the time
with some loser clown
looking for love
like an idiot, okay?
Just looking for brunch.
A free brunch.
You go out with any guy
who buys you f*cking brunch.
It's a f*cking joke, man.
Stop saying brunch.
I'm not looking
for a free brunch.
I'm actually-- I'm meeting
someone and, you know,
I might like him, you know?
Why don't you just have fun?
Why don't you just,
you know, f*ck?
Have fun. No strings attached.
Casual sex.
Heard of it?
- Wait, what time is it?
- Closing time.
I can't believe
that as*h*le stood me up.
He seemed seemed so nice.
"He seemed so nice."
He's a loser junkie f*gg*t!
Why are you yelling at me?
I'm not yelling!
I'm passionate.
You girls and your stupid
f*cking fairy tales.
It's like, shut up.
Oh, okay. Yeah.
Oh, you're a real charmer.
Okay, so I got it, yeah.
So I should just, uh,
just f*ck immediately
and then expect nothing.
-Got it.
-No, no, no, no.
That's not what I said, okay?
If you really like a guy,
then you don't f*ck him
right away.
If I meet a girl and I like her,
I don't try to f*ck her
right away.
That would blow
the whole thing.
Got to take her out
and be nice to her,
hold her hand
and introduce her to people
and sh*t like that.
So now I'm even more confused.
So, what's the answer?
The answer is wake up,
you f*cking idiot.
Toughen up.
Let it just happen.
Little Miss Romance
over here
stood up by some
loser junkie f*gg*t.
It's hilarious. Watch my drink.
I'm gonna take a piss.
Don't listen to that as*h*le.
He lives in the basement
of his mom's house.
And he wouldn't know what to do
if a great woman
was right in front of him.
I am a great woman
right in front of him.
Hello?
Stella, it's Leo.
I don't have
a lot of time to talk.
I read your samples.
They're good.
I'm gonna give you
an assignment.
This is incredible!
Thank you so much.
It's only a test run.
Eight hundred words.
End of the month.
Your adventures being single
in New York City.
If-- If it's not trash,
I'll consider running it.
No, no, I get it. Totally.
No promises.
I'm just so grateful
for the opportunity.
Thank you.
-Ciao.
-Ciao.
I'm Carrie Bradshaw.
Hey. I'll be right down.
You're gonna
love this place.
It's always packed
with the hottest guys.
I think I just saw
a tumbleweed in this place,
it's so dead.
God, I swear, I've never
seen it like this.
-Oh. Really?
-I'm sorry.
-Oh, God.
-It's usually...
-I know him.
-Yeah?
-I know you.
-Hmm.
How do I know you?
You're my Hinge boyfriend.
What's Hinge?
Hinge?
You know what Hinge is.
You messaged me on Hinge
before I deleted the app.
Huh.
Are you stalking me?
- Are you playing dumb
and stalking me?
No. I own this place.
He owns this place.
-Very cool.
-What is this?
It's the 12-year.
Tastes like McCrappin'.
What are you guys drinking?
Um, cosmopolitan.
Three cosmos.
Hey, boss. Can I leave early?
Am I too tall for you?
Too tall for what?
Sit down. Sit down.
Okay.
Stay. Stay.
-Drink.
-Okay.
Okay.
-Cheers.
-All right.
Okay.
Comfortable?
-Mm-hmm.
-Okay.
"Alas...
he'd wandered," okay?
"When wandering was enough.
"But now, to see...
through the trees."
Hmm.
"She'd revived him.
"He'd wandered...
no more."
-I-I-I wrote that for you.
-You did?
-Yeah!
-Really?
Is that too much?
On my knees reading poetry.
Oh, I... I, uh... I...
I find you so interesting.
I do.
-Interesting?
-I find you so interesting, yes.
Oh, well, I don't know.
That sounds a little bit
like a euphemism.
Mm, mm, wait.
-What? What? What?
-Do you have a condom?
Ugh, I hate condoms.
Oh, you're the guy
who hates condoms?
-I'm that guy, yeah.
-Oh, my God.
I've heard about you!
-Yeah?
-Oh.
I don't know.
I hid them the last time
my parents came to visit.
How old are you?
Forty... five. Why?
Because you're too old
to be hiding condoms
from your parents.
Yeah, well, you know what?
Everyone at work
thinks you're...
a lot younger
than you actually are.
-I love that!
-Yeah.
At first we thought it was
because you were, uh...
Uh, you know,
so kind of youthful
and beautiful.
But then we realized
it's because you act Ret*rded.
f*ck you.
No luck.
What are we gonna do?
Oh.
f*ck me.
I love you! I love you!
I love you!
-I love you! I love you!
-Oh!
Oh, f*ck.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
Sorry about the "I love yous."
Uh, I... I think I was
a little bit pent up.
Ah, no problemo.
I didn't even notice.
So you're 45?
Mm-hmm.
Have you ever been married?
-Uh-uh.
-Any kids?
Never been married.
You'd make a great mom,
though.
You think?
I know.
Hmm.
Psst.
What?
I love you too.
You do.
Mm-hmm.
You're perfect.
I am?
Mm. Yes.
Do you know
what I tell people about you?
You know what
I tell my friends?
"I want to have a baby
with this girl."
You do?
I want to put a baby in there!
Oh, my God!
Guess who has
a boyfriend, world?
This two-fingered girl!
What can I get you,
gorgeous?
Oh, I'm good. I don't know.
Uh, maybe a cosmopolitan.
I'm waiting for my boyfriend,
so, yeah.
You know, I would never
leave my girlfriend waiting.
Do you like steak?
I do, yeah. Why?
See, I make the greatest
bone-in rib eye, but...
that's just how I am.
I'm a giver.
Oh, my God.
Hey, your bartender
is trying to flirt with me
right under your nose.
-This guy?
-Yeah.
-You trying to make me jealous?
-Maybe.
I don't get jealous.
It's genetic.
Hey. Come on, kid.
-Let's get to work.
-Sir, yes, sir.
Jesus. What am I paying
these mongrels for?
I'm gonna be right back.
All right.
Eddie, when you get a chance.
Gotcha.
Hey!
- Hey.
- What's up?
Nothing. Hey.
I, um, I wanted to apologize
to you about flaking.
Uh, it was really f*cked up.
I was going through a breakup,
a substance abuse thing,
not to mention
a Crohn's flare-up.
We don't have
to get into that.
But I'm-- I'm really sorry.
No, don't even worry about it.
It's totally fine.
Truly, like, everything is
exactly as it needs to be, okay?
I'm actually here
with my boyfriend.
He's, uh--
He owns this place, so yeah.
My boyfriend's the owner,
but anyway--
And he gets really jealous, too,
so if he sees us talking,
he'll, like--
Might go ballistic, so...
Yeah, but I hope
you feel better.
Yikes. All right, bye.
Hey.
Has anybody told you today
how beautiful you look?
-No.
-All right.
Will you let me know
when they do?
I'm kidding! I love you.
Mwah. I love you.
-I love you, too.
-Yeah?
- Yeah.
- Hey!
We're celebrating love.
All right, shot--
a round for everybody.
All my friends.
Good morning,
my Amazonian anime princess.
Mwah. Mm, you smell good.
Thank you.
Oh God,
what happened last night?
-Really? You don't remember?
-No.
Must have been
the 25 shots of mescal
and the 10 cosmos.
I need Advil and coffee
the size of my head.
No, I got you. I'll make you
my famous mushroom tea.
-Who's this?
-Who's what?
The little girl.
Is that your niece?
Oh, no. I don't have a niece.
So who is she?
That's my daughter.
That's your daughter?
Yeah. Why?
Because I asked you
if you had kids.
-You did?
-Yeah.
What did I say?
You said you
didn't have kids!
No, I said
I'd never been married
and that you would make
a great mom.
Which you would.
What?
Well, what did you--
I mean, what did you think
all this crap was?
I was just like
a Ret*rded artist?
I don't know, I thought you were
just some crafty New York guy.
-I don't know.
-Who's 3'11"? I mean...
You lie, and you're gonna
put it on me like it's my fault?
Okay, I thought
the size chart gave it away.
You're right. You're right.
I should have said something.
Okay? Listen, let's be--
Can we be honest?
Are we being truthful?
-I don't know.
-Okay, let's be truthful,
all right?
Let's be completely honest,
all right?
I may not be 45.
-What?
-Yeah.
I may be 55.
-Not bad, right?
-Stop.
It's just the disappointment
of it all, you know?
I'm sad because
I'm mourning the death
of the excitement
of what could have been.
Oh.
Hey, I'll call you later,
exclamation point.
I'm having
an existential crisis, period.
g*dd*mn it, every time
I try to text "existential,"
it turns it into
"extra sensual."
I think I prefer that.
You know, I'm doing this
amazing manifestation work
using visualization,
and it's like a deep dive
into the psyche.
Okay.
But I think it would be great
for you to do it
for your relationship stuff,
Stella.
She doesn't need
that sh*t, okay?
Look, they say that
you have to love yourself
before someone else
can love you.
That's kind of like
a crock of sh*t.
I mean, I know plenty of people
who hate themselves,
but they're still
in relationships
with people who love them.
I mean, it's statistical.
Look around
at all of these ugly,
spiritually bankrupt losers
that are, you know,
holding hands,
going on dates,
getting married,
claiming to be in love.
And if those charmless
assholes can do it,
then obviously you can too,
sweetie.
-Well, hey, thanks.
I really-- I appreciate that.
-Of course.
I'm just-- I'm so ready
to be season six me, you know?
Babe, you're still very much
season one pilot mode,
but I'll get you there.
Oh, my gosh.
You're smoking.
It's not like I'm buying packs.
I just bummed a cigarette.
See, for me, I feel like
I have to be on the flow.
You know, I meet a guy,
we hook up, and that's it.
You just leave it at that.
I just feel so weak
because I'm disgusted by myself
because I just, like,
hand over all my power
to these losers.
I know, and it's like,
isn't it interesting
how we're willing
to just hand
our whole selves over
to these losers?
I know, and I don't even
think they want the power.
But here I am, I just give it
to them immediately.
Well, babe,
then take the power back.
I mean, sh*t,
there's a million different ways
to numb that pain,
but still externalize
all that love and validation
that you crave.
You know, uh, drugs, booze,
money, status, power.
Not just f*cking some guy.
And isn't that
kind of great to know?
It's barbaric, but true.
You know, post a thirst trap.
f*ck some new guy.
Uh, drink to forget,
if you have to.
I don't know, get addicted
to work or shopping, whatever.
Just keep it moving
because a week in New York
is the equivalent of a lifetime
literally anywhere else.
So you will forget
about this guy in no time.
Hey, Daddy. It's me.
Um, did you tell people
you had a kid
when you were dating?
Um... Oh, God.
I have a looming deadline
for an article I'm writing.
Procrastinating as usual.
Um, yeah. Call me back.
What's the party for tonight?
It's New York.
There's always a party.
Where is it?
Okay, so you're
gonna hate this,
but it's at your most recent
ex's spot.
Oh, no, no.
Hey, stop the car!
-No, no, no. Keep driving.
-No.
Wait, babe, look at me.
Look at me.
You're allowed to go
wherever you want, all right?
Am I right? He owns the bar,
not the whole f*cking city.
Okay? We're going.
And you're with us. Who cares?
-He's gonna think
I'm stalking him.
-Are you stalking him?
No, but I don't want him
to think I'm stalking him.
Well, it's not like
it ended contentiously.
Okay, I didn't want
to tell you this,
but I may have sent him,
like, 50 rage texts
calling him a lying con artist.
Oh, well,
that's par for the course.
Plus, he's, like, in his 50s.
He can handle it.
Yeah, and New York is so small.
I mean, you're gonna run
into him sooner or later.
Yeah, run into him,
not seek him out
at his place of business.
Okay, I'll break it down
for you.
You dated the owner
of the coolest bar
in downtown New York,
all right?
It's, like, gonna be our local
watering hole all summer.
We're going.
He won't care
if you don't care.
Face it. Embrace it.
I don't know
what I was worried about.
I feel fine. This is fun.
All right, okay, I feel good.
Yeah, see? I told you.
Wait, do I look okay?
Absolutely.
You have your whole
effortlessly chic,
"I don't care, but I do care"
thing happening.
-It's your signature look.
-Oh, my God, have I been
cooped up for too long,
or is everybody
in New York hot as f*ck?
Jesus.
Is that...
Wait, is that him?
That's him.
-Wait, does he see me?
-No.
- Is he looking?
- No.
Wait, what about now?
Is he looking now?
He's still not
looking at you, babe.
Don't look directly at him.
It's humiliating.
f*ck it, I'm gonna look.
Just, Jesus.
Is he with someone?
Is that his daughter?
Maybe. She kind of looks
like an older version
of the girl
I saw in the photo.
I don't think
that's his daughter.
I... I hope that's not
his daughter.
Oh, my God,
it's been two weeks
and he's got
a f*cking child bride.
Are you kidding me?
Oh, my God, no.
I'm going to the ladies' room.
I'll be right back.
-Hey, what can I get you?
-I gotta get out of here.
-Do you want to get out of here?
-You dated my boss.
Should I do this?
Oh!
What the fa-?
Did you seriously just slap me?
-My bad.
-Oh, my God!
f*ck!
Oh!
-Oh, this is so f*cking hot.
-Oh, God!
I gotta video.
This is so hot.
-No.
-Why? It's so hot.
-No, no. No videos. Stop.
-You're gonna be sorry.
You're gonna wish
you could see a video of this
and see how hot you look
when I'm f*cking you now.
No, I'm not. Stop it.
I don't want that.
Okay. Mm!
But your a*s looks so hot
when I'm f*cking you.
-Are you sure?
-I'm sure! God!
-Oh!
-Your loss.
I have to get out of here.
He wants me gone.
He hates me.
Men hate women.
Just, like, don't overstay
your welcome, all right?
Stop.
Just be cool.
Just breathe.
You're fine.
You're allowed to exist.
You're allowed to be here.
He f*cked you,
now you're allowed to sleep
and leave when you're ready.
You're a human being,
and don't forget that. Jesus.
Wait, is he awake?
Is he looking at his phone
instead of kissing me
good morning?
What a f*cking as*h*le.
That was my stomach.
Can I tell you a secret?
You have my attention.
If your towels smell
like mildew, your d*ck will too.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Is my b*ner bothering you?
Oh, my God. "b*ner."
I hate that word.
-Oh, God! b*ner! It's so bad!
-I hate it!
Hey!
-You did have a condom.
-What?
So? We already
had sex without one.
What's the point
of using one now?
Oh, my God,
Don't have a tantrum. Jesus.
Ooh!
Oh, f*ck! Oh!
Shh!
My roommate.
He's all the way
across the apartment.
The other ones.
How many roommates
do you have?
Four.
What's up with
"a million roommates" guy?
Nothing. Not a word.
You know what
would be so great?
If, after every single, like,
casual sex rendezvous,
the guy just sent a text
the next day saying,
"Hey, it's me,
the guy who had his d*ck
in you last night.
I just wanted to check in,
make sure you're okay.
Let you know I respect you."
-It's called a boyfriend.
-Well...
You know, you would be
so much more powerful
and, like, electric
if you didn't feel like
such a rejected victim
after every time you hook up.
But then again,
if you're more confident,
would you be hooking up
so much in the first place?
I mean, do g*y men, like,
put themselves through
all this emotional spiraling
after casual sex?
-Because I highly doubt it.
-When I was a g*y man,
I did not spiral
like this, sweetie, okay?
I think it's got to be
an estrogen thing.
Oh, great.
It's an estrogen thing.
Fantastic.
Oh, I went to the gyno today,
and instead of my doctor
giving me a lecture on safe sex,
he just wrote me
a prescription for PrEP.
I love New York.
Everyone's so cool.
Do either of you
have a cigarette?
Oh, yeah.
I have a pack in my purse.
You're buying packs now?
I'm buying packs now.
Yes. Leave me alone.
I love it.
-Oh, my God.
-What?
He watched my story.
-Who?
-Roommates guy.
Wait, did he watch
all your stories?
No, no, no, no, no.
Not all my stories.
But he watched the first four,
which means
it wasn't an accident.
I mean, unless he, like, put
his phone down in the bathroom.
He's just, like,
letting them roll through.
I don't think
he's rolling through you.
-You don't?
-I don't know,
he might be rolling through.
Really?
-He commented on my story.
-What did he say?
"LOL."
-"LOL."
-Yeah, "LOL."
LOL. God, that's, like,
the ultimate slap in the face.
I know, but at least
it's something, right?
Is it?
Is it?
What can I say?
I'm just a chunky, texting,
phone call-making
deeply feeling girl
in a "TLDR, LOL" world.
Watch out.
Ah!
Don't look.
Don't look!
Have you ever seen
Sex and the City?
-No. No.
-Never?
Do you have a mother
or sister or...?
-Yeah, yeah.
-Do they love
Sex and the City?
Uh, they're foreign.
All right, well,
so I saw Sex and the City.
I was so excited.
I was die-hard for this movie.
And it finally came out--
Hold on one second.
I'm getting a call here.
-Oh.
-Just give me one sec.
-Yeah. Hello?
-Oh, jeez.
Excuse me one second.
Yeah.
No, there's someone--
She's just telling me
some bullshit.
-Is it for me?
-No, no, no.
- This is a very important call.
- Is it?
-Oh no!
-Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
-No!
-Yes. Perfect.
-Let me talk to them.
-No, no, no...
-Let me talk to them!
-Okay, I gotta go.
-Okay. Hey, what did they say?
-It's none of your business.
Is my foot bigger than yours?
My foot is bigger, isn't it?
Don't, like, don't squish it.
Is it bigger?
I mean,
what do you want to hear?
I don't want my foot
to be bigger than yours.
No, it's a very dainty
little tiny foot, actually.
You are-- You are in
for the ride of your life.
-Oh yeah?
-You are gonna love this.
-All right.
-Okay. Don't look.
Have you ever had
your toe sucked before?
-I never have.
-Okay.
Shh.
This is gonna hurt me more
than it's gonna hurt you, okay?
-It ain't gonna hurt me at all.
-Okay.
Don't be so tough. Shh.
Anything?
-Yes.
-Yeah?
Ta-da!
That was not me.
That was the tub.
What the f*ck is that sound?
It's my construction workers.
Do you love it?
You don't love it?
Oh, God.
This isn't good.
Hmm?
I'm not supposed
to like you, Stella.
I-I-I don't want to like anyone.
Oh, so you like me?
I love the soundscape
of your apartment.
I know. Isn't it great?
Isn't it cozy in my place?
You're welcome.
Bring me some food.
Oh, this is hot.
I'm so glad you did this.
Is this why people watch porn?
-I told you.
-Look how hot I look.
This is, like, making me
more confident in my body,
giving me more confidence
in my blowjobs.
-Look at me go.
-I'm an artist.
-And you're my muse.
-Oh. Thank you.
Ooh!
So, like, how should
I see you again?
Like, is it always like--
Should I always just
find you at the bar
at the end of the night,
or can we make a plan,
or should I text you tomorrow
and you want to come over
after work or something?
-I just like you.
-Yeah, no, I know.
But I just don't really know
how to answer that,
you know what I mean?
I'm just not really looking
for anything serious.
-I'm not trying to own you.
-No, I know. It's just--
You know, I'm just
figuring my sh*t out,
you know what I mean?
So while I'm doing that,
it's just like no girlfriend.
-You know what I mean?
-Okay.
Well...
I do want you to delete
those videos, though.
Why? They're hot.
I know they're hot,
but that's, like, not your face
with somebody's d*ck
in your mouth.
It's like, this is like
boyfriend stuff.
What do you think
I'm gonna do with them?
I don't think you're
gonna do anything,
but just delete them.
-Don't make me beg.
-Why are you being like this?
Just delete them.
Fine, I don't--
Whatever. Look.
There you go.
Art destroyed.
-Thank you. Okay.
-Gone.
-There you go.
-You don't have to be
an as*h*le about it. Thank you.
-Oh.
-You deleted them?
I deleted them
just in front of you just now.
Okay!
Sorry, just making sure,
I don't know.
Because there's an added
thing on the bottom
where, like, recently deleted.
All right. Whatever.
I'm sensing a mood shift.
What are you doing?
Mm...
He is who he is.
He's a good-time guy.
You wouldn't want him
if he was any other way.
That's why he's so fun.
Is it harder now,
or has it always been this way?
Oh, it's a tale
as old as time.
It was the same
in the '80s and '90s.
We didn't have the dating apps
and the, you know,
the social media,
but it was the same.
Just meeting the wrong person
over and over
until you meet the right one.
I promise you...
what you are seeking
is seeking you.
And in the meantime, just,
like, don't even look for it.
Just, you know,
just do what makes you happy.
Like you-- What, you write.
And you, like,
probably go dancing.
You laugh with your friends.
You make your friends laugh.
You are so loved.
You are loved by so many.
Oh. Thank you.
Just because it's not
in the form of a boyfriend
doesn't mean
you are not loved.
-Oh, God.
-And another thing.
This is something
that helped me.
So whenever you sleep
with someone...
don't listen
to your hormones.
They are
gonna be telling you,
"Mate for life, mate for life."
But don't listen to them
because we are women,
and you have to fight
against the hormones
and the programming.
Oh yeah, that's good advice.
Yeah.
I'm telling you,
the hardest thing about
this world is living in it.
Yeah.
So, what are you doing
drinking in the middle
of the day,
talking to me?
I'm in New York
visiting my boyfriend.
Oh.
Have you ever been married?
I'm still married.
My husband's in Denver
with the kids.
Oh.
I might have
the perfect guy for you.
Who?
He's like an old friend
of the family.
Kind of like an extended cousin
or something.
Oh, I've met him.
He's really groovy.
He's groovy?
Yeah.
I'm trying "groovy" out,
and I think it works.
Okay, trust me, he's a catch.
He's employed, successful,
really handsome.
I honestly think
you'll love him.
He's, like, in tune
with his emotions.
And plus, he actually wants to
be in a relationship right now.
Hmm.
I gotta tell you,
my life really changed
once I got off Prozac.
I'm-- I'm out of the fog.
Oh, my goodness.
Oh, this is so crazy.
-No, I was on Prozac, too.
-Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I was on it,
and I'm off it now.
Like, I-I tapered off of it
incrementally,
like the same way
I went onto it.
But, uh, yeah, my therapist
had a saying, he was like...
"Start low, go slow."
Yes! Oh, my goodness!
Same for you.
Yeah, well,
so now I'm no longer
on Prozac and, uh,
and my libido has come back,
but I don't know
if that's a good thing.
Um...
that is a very good thing.
All right.
So...
You know, what's your goal?
My goal?
Your mission when it comes
to a relationship.
Oh, my goodness. Uh...
I guess I'm just living my life,
uh, collecting experiences,
hoping to find a connection
along the way
and just seeing
how life unravels.
You mean unfolds?
That's what I said.
No, you said seeing
how your life unravels for you.
Did I?
Oh, my God.
That could explain everything.
Huh.
When was the last time
you had sex?
A month ago.
Oh, wait,
can I tell you something?
Yeah, sure.
Her p*ssy was the worst.
-It just stank.
-What?
Yeah. I mean, I tried.
I tried saying something,
but you cannot
say that to somebody.
Okay, but you feel okay
telling me this?
Well, I'm really comfortable
with you, you know?
I'm sure if your p*ssy stank,
I could tell you.
All right, first of all,
it doesn't.
And second, can you just stop
talking about some other girl's
p*ssy in front of me?
-My God.
-Absolutely, absolutely.
From now on,
it's all about your p*ssy.
Ow! Oh, my God!
Sorry. Too much?
I was just trying to be playful.
Jesus, when did everybody
start slapping?
Did I not get the memo?
My God, it's...
-Sorry.
-It's okay. It's fine.
I really have
to see you again.
Um...
I'll call you.
Okay.
Hey, Daddy. It's me.
Ugh, I'm so wrapped up
in collecting stories
to write about for this
article I'm working on
that I'm forgetting to
actually write the article.
Oh. Anyway, it'd be great
to pick your brain about that
and, uh, and a lot of things.
So, yeah, call me back.
I love you. I miss you.
Hey.
Hi.
Oh, hi.
-You look great.
-Thank you.
Boy, scoot over.
-Oh!
-What's the matter, honey?
-You want a drink?
-Yes.
Bad date?
Just-- He slapped me.
I know.
Jesus Christ, it's just--
It's-- Everybody's wrong.
Oh.
Thank you.
For me,
it has to be a fantasy.
You can leave a fantasy.
Yeah, but what about love?
I want love.
Love.
Not for me.
I only have sex
with people that I hate.
Okay, that's one way
to do it, all right.
-It always works.
-Does it?
-It always works.
-Oh, God.
Then when I put my hand
on his face and we were kissing,
his skin felt so thin.
But then I thought,
my skin must feel thin.
Well...
emotionally,
you are thin-skinned.
Physically, you are not.
Not yet.
Do these jeans
give me camel toe?
Oh, camel toe's
the new cleavage.
Okay, so I really think
that this could help you.
It's called candle magic.
Hmm.
God?
Angels, can you hear me?
It's me, Stella.
My intention with this candle
is to call in a love so great.
A reciprocal love
where I just feel wanted.
A love that feels like home.
God and angels,
if you can hear me,
please answer my prayers.
Amen.
Hey, is this Enchantments?
Hi, yeah,
I bought one of your, uh,
"manifestation for true love"
candles,
and I just did the thing,
and, uh, there's no draft
in my apartment,
but the-- The flame
keeps going out.
Yeah, and I was thinking
about carving out
the wick or something,
but I feel like that
would be me trying to force it.
But what do you think?
Hello?
You need some help
with your groceries?
Yeah. Thanks.
So where do you want them?
Um, there is good.
How old are you, anyway?
Eighteen.
You're 18?
Oh, no.
Are we Harold and Maude?
Who's Harold and Maude?
Oh, please tell me
you're joking.
I'm just kidding.
More like The Graduate,
if you ask me.
Oh.
Is this grooming?
Am I grooming you?
I don't think so.
You'd have to have
some sort of power over me.
I'd say I have
a lot more power over you.
-I'm sorry, he's how old?
-You heard me.
But I'm telling you,
he's the most emotionally
mature of them yet.
There's, like,
something about him.
I think he could be the one.
It's like this whole thing
is really reminiscent
of the, the electric teenage
kind of love
I've been looking for.
That's because
he is a teenager, babe.
Why is your face
all red anyway?
Okay, I didn't want to tell you.
I have another date with him,
and I got all nervous
because I want my skin
to be as nubile and dewy as his,
so I exfoliated way too hard.
What can I say?
I'm Cher and I'm loving it.
Oh, God.
Send the little guy up.
Are you the Keymaster?
Hey.
Where should I put my backpack?
Uh, there's good.
God, it seems heavy.
What's in there?
I got a lot of homework.
I missed you.
Have you ever thought
about having kids?
Where is that coming from?
I just think
you'd make a great mom.
You're just so loving.
Well, you can be my baby
and my boyfriend.
I can just push you up
into my womb and birth you
and raise you as my own.
-I'm being serious.
-Yeah, so am I.
Can I ask you something?
Sure. Anything.
Do you bleach your as*h*le?
What? No!
Just kind of looks like
you do.
That's the nicest thing
anyone's ever said to me.
Will you tell me something?
I mean, like,
not about your as*h*le
but tell me something.
Tell me a story.
Well, uh, there's not much.
I bet there is.
I went through this...
I went through
this whole period where
every girl I hung out with
almost f*cked me,
but then wouldn't want
to go through with it.
And I was freaking out on all
these message boards about it,
and it was just so annoying.
Okay.
Tell me another story.
Uh, I've been doing
this thing where I go
into the Whole Foods
in Union Square,
and I take
an empty tote bag
and I just fill it up
with groceries.
And then I just walk on out.
Free groceries.
What? Really?
Yeah. It's so simple.
-All right.
-Free food.
No, go back to the message board
and f*cking girls story.
-What are you talking about?
-Like, I would come so close
to f*cking these girls,
and they wouldn't want
to go through with it.
And it was-- I didn't--
I didn't know why.
And it was completely
f*cking me up.
And then I found this website
with a bunch of guys
who had the same thing
happen to them.
And we would just kind of vent
to each other about it.
Like incels?
Like an incel message board?
Well, I wouldn't call it that.
Sounds like that.
Well, maybe a little bit,
but it's not--
-Maybe a little bit?
-It's not like women haters.
Well, not-- Not me, at least.
Are you telling me
I'm in bed with an incel
who steals groceries?
You're the one in bed
with someone
20 years younger than you.
What's that all about?
You've got a point.
You've got a point.
I don't want to fight.
I don't want to fight either.
My mom wants to meet you.
-You're joking.
-No.
-You told your mom about me?
-Yeah.
Oh, my God.
Is she gonna k*ll me?
Am I under arrest?
No, no, no,
she's totally chill with it.
-She's totally chill with it?
-Yeah.
You want to see
a picture of her?
This is your mom?
Yeah. She's the best.
- Daddy,
it is me yet again.
Your daughter, Stella Fox,
calling you live
from Tudor City,
Manhattan, New York.
Um, so still working on this
piece for Conversation
magazine,
and my favorite magazine
in the entire world.
The deadline is looming,
and I guess I'm just looking
for a little
positive reinforcement.
Some words of wisdom,
validation, reassurance,
what have you.
Just, can you call me back?
Going down.
You're new
to the building, right?
Yeah, I guess.
I live right across the hall
from you.
Okay.
Mm. Mm.
First floor.
Hey, Stella.
What are you doing here?
You haven't been replying
to my texts. Why?
I don't know, but...
You're avoiding me.
This whole thing
is just like--
-This is too intense.
-But I-I-I love you, Stella.
No, no, no, no.
Please, please, please.
-No, put your f*cking shirt on.
-No, I love you.
You can't do this to me.
-People are looking!
-Why are you doing this to me?
Vodka? No.
You mean tequila?
They don't even
sound the same.
Did you f*ck my bartender?
Well, only because
you moved on so super fast
with that really young girl.
The whole thing you did
was just really f*cked up.
-I mean...
-Oh, sh*t. Oh, sh*t.
What?
Tequila!
I gotta stop drinking.
Please. It's New York.
So what,
you're drinking and smoking?
As long as you're not
doing hard drugs,
you're basically sober.
Oh, is it a full moon
tonight?
-'Cause I'm feeling wild.
-Yeah. Join the club.
Oh!
-Holy sh*t.
-Hmm? What?
Jeremiah has a girlfriend.
Who's Jeremiah?
Who's Jeremiah? My ex.
My last breakup that caused
my whole breakdown?
The whole reason
I moved to New York?
Did neither of you
listen to a word I say?
Wait a minute, why were you
on his page in the first place?
I wasn't. It just popped up
on my explore page.
Oh, don't bullshit
a bullshitter, okay?
That's the oldest lie
in the book.
Come on, be honest.
Whatever, I don't know.
I felt intuitively drawn
to go check out his page,
probably because
it's a f*cking full moon,
and there he is.
And who is that?
Who is that? Look at that.
Do they live together?
What is this?
Is she wearing
an engagement ring?
Are they f*cking engaged?
Oh, well,
you are so much cuter.
Yeah, I mean,
all those injections
make her face look like
it's melting or something.
Oh, my God, I know her.
Who is she?
She was in my
Sex and Love Addicts
home group in Los Angeles.
-Are you f*cking kidding me?
-Well, he has a type.
Oh, my gosh.
It's not funny!
I gotta get out of here. f*ck!
Damn it!
Daddy, this is the last time
I'm gonna try you.
She's coming undone!
I'm on the precipice
of a downward spiral!
I just don't f*cking get it.
You're my maker.
I'm your only daughter.
Mommy can't call me enough.
By the way,
I'm trying to work on the fact
that I refer to you
as Daddy and her as Mommy.
But that's work I have to do on
a personal level, not for now.
Anyway, call me back.
Hey, is Eddie working?
I need a vodka cranberry.
What is this?
What are you doing?
-It's ketamine.
-It's ketamine?
What's happening here?
What is he doing?
-This is bundle.
-A bundle?
-Yeah, do you want some?
-Yeah, sure.
Thank you. What about this?
Honestly, uh, I forgot.
That sounds good to me.
Okay, I'm gonna borrow this.
-Yeah, give it a shot.
-Okay. I'm over here
if you need me.
Has anyone ever told you
you look like a vampire?
You want me to turn you?
Can we take the stairs?
I have, like, a thing
with confined spaces.
We just f*cked
in a bathroom stall.
-I'll meet you upstairs.
-Okay.
Yo.
Yo. It's me.
What are you laughing at?
What's so funny?
Oh, you need
to know this about me.
I laugh every time I come.
Are you f*cking with me?
It's true.
He's not kidding.
Even when I masturbate.
Cool.
Jesus.
There's blood everywhere.
Oh. My God.
Oh, f*ck. I know.
I did so much coke.
Did you like
your first g*ng bang?
My first g*ng bang?
What?
Train?
Oh, my God. "Train"?
It was barely a threesome.
You did so much coke,
it was more like
a one-at-a-timer.
Nice windows.
Oh, thanks.
And you got
the Hovet mirror from IKEA?
Good eye. Yeah.
That's a coveted piece.
Been looking for that
everywhere. It's sold out.
-Is it really?
-Yeah.
I didn't know that.
What were you typing
last night?
What are you talking about?
I woke up at, like, 5,
and you were furiously
texting on your phone.
-Was I really?
-Yeah.
Oh, finally!
Daddy?
f*ck.
Do you have hair sh*t?
My hair is fried.
That looks sick.
Shh! Daddy?
Is this Stella?
Who's this?
I don't know
how you got this number,
but I'm not your daddy,
sweetheart.
Well, this is
my dad's number.
Take it up
with Verizon, honey.
I got this number
six months ago.
You sound cute, though.
I could be your daddy
if you want me to be.
Oh.
Can we smoke in here?
Can you smoke in here?
No, you can't smoke in here.
What are you even
still doing here? Get out!
I'm not kidding, get out!
Just f*cking go.
I don't even know you.
Get out!
Oh, my God, move slower.
You're moving at a glacial pace.
Jesus f*cking Christ.
I don't even know you.
Go! I hate you!
Get out of here! Go!
Don't forget that.
Jesus.
Can we please take the stairs?
f*ck!
What were you
typing last night?
I woke up at, like, 5,
and you were furiously
texting on your phone.
Holy sh*t!
Oh!
Hey, Leo,
it's Stella Fox here.
I'm just calling because
I don't know what happened.
I was working
on my piece yesterday,
and I guess
my computer malfunctioned.
There must have been a glitch,
but I accidentally sent you
a really raw,
discombobulated,
crazy version
of what I was working on.
Just disregard, okay?
Don't even waste your time.
I'm so sorry.
I'm gonna get you a new draft.
You're gonna love it.
This is Stella, by the way.
Stella Fox?
Do you have a boyfriend?
No. No boyfriend.
Do you have kids?
No kids.
Do you want kids?
Uh, I don't know.
I think I've aged out.
-You? Nah.
-Yes.
I think it's--
It's over for me.
Yeah. My eggs are rotten,
as they say.
I don't know,
I probably don't want kids.
You don't want kids?
The other day, I was walking
out of my apartment building
and I saw my neighbor
walking their dog.
Turns out, they weren't
walking their dog.
They were pushing their baby
in a stroller.
I ask you if you want kids,
and you tell me this story.
What does that mean?
What it means is,
I can't tell the difference
between a baby
in a stroller
and a dog
being walked on a leash.
They're totally
interchangeable to me.
I have no maternal instinct.
I'm just like, yeah,
I'm not interested.
I don't want kids.
I've never actually
said it out loud.
It feels good to say.
What kind of woman
doesn't want kids?
I don't know. A monster.
I'm a monster.
I'm still raising myself.
Stella.
Jeremiah?
-Hey.
-What are you doing here?
I'm in town for a work thing.
Wait, um,
are you living here now?
Yeah, I'm living here.
You're stocking up
on red candles, I see.
Yeah, well, you never know
when you're gonna need
a red candle.
Right.
Prepping for a power outage.
Prepping for a power outage.
Yeah.
-Yeah.
-Yeah.
Um, where are you living at?
I live in this area
called Tudor City.
Don't know where that is.
And you're smoking?
That's very, uh, very New York.
Oh, my God.
Um...
you want to grab a drink?
With you?
Yeah.
-Like now?
-Yeah.
Like-- Like right now.
No.
No, I-I-I don't want
to grab a drink with you.
All right, that's fair.
It is fair. It is fair.
When did every guy
start deciding
that he's gonna tell me
what's fair?
You said that all the time
when we were dating.
I hated it.
I'm not trying to get
into any kind of weird argument.
-Okay.
-So continue smoking
your New York cigarette.
-I will! I will!
-It's good to see you.
-Great to see you, too.
-Yeah, likewise.
-Great to see you, too.
-Okay.
So, what did he look like?
The point
isn't what he looked like.
He looked fine.
The point is, I-I felt nothing.
It's like we never
even knew each other.
All the suffering,
the pain, the anguish.
And now nothing.
Wow. Well...
here's to being
a healed lady.
Ew, can you please
never call me a lady again?
I want to be referred to
as a girl until I'm 100.
You know, Rene Ricard
once said something like, um,
"I'll never get old.
I'll just be young,
and then I'll die."
-I'm doing what she did.
That sounds great.
-Yes.
What's up, ladies?
Can I get you a drink?
Uh, I think we're all set.
Thanks.
What you drinking there?
What am I drinking?
It's a-- It's a Shirley Temple.
Ah, cute.
Oh, my God, you're--
You're adorable. You're great.
I need you gone.
Thank you. Oh, my God.
I just can't take it anymore.
-It's, like, relentless.
-What's wrong?
Everywhere I go, it's like
some f*cking dangling d*ck.
He was cute!
Who cares if he's cute?
That's not the point.
They're all cute.
It doesn't even matter.
The point is,
I feel like I'm just exhausted.
I'm like a raw nerve
walking the earth, you know?
What do I have going for me?
I don't have a job.
You know, I f*ck nearly
every loser in New York.
-Not every loser.
-Well, it feels like
every loser.
Yeah, I just-- I'm done.
I'm done. I'm done with dating.
I'm done with relationships.
I'm done with f*cking.
It's just like, oh, my God,
I feel like I have to do--
I have to do the exact opposite
of whatever my natural impulse
tells me to do before
I hit a real rock bottom
or something.
You know, I'm like
six to eight nights out
from ending up
in a f*cking dumpster.
Yeah, no, something--
Something needs to change here.
And, uh...
I'm going to a Sex and Love
Addicts Anonymous meeting
right now.
Yeah, f*ck it. Right now.
What now?
Mm. Is this my moody
little writer girl?
Excuse me?
Be in my office
in seven minutes.
Jesus Christ.
-So I read your piece.
-Yeah, about that.
I really want to explain.
No disclaimers.
It was wild
and unhinged as f*ck.
And I don't want to know
what you were on
when you wrote it
because it'll tempt me
and I'm on a cleanse.
But I think we can
cut it in half, yeah?
You can throw the whole thing
in the garbage,
and I can write you something
completely different.
Why would I want to throw
the whole thing in the garbage?
What the f...
It's fabulous.
-It is?
-Yes!
It's nothing but wild,
embarrassing, unprotected,
disappointing dalliances
coupled with some sort of
strange meta self-talk
to help explain it all.
-Is that allowed?
-"Is that allowed?" she says.
Wake up!
Of course, it's allowed.
You're a romantic
anthropologist.
You're throwing yourself
out into the world
over and over again,
ending up all over Manhattan
and parts of Brooklyn,
searching for love.
Hope never dying.
It's... delusional,
but brave and necessary.
Is that allowed?
You shouldn't have
to ask permission.
-I shouldn't?
-No.
Cut the whole "I'm broken" act.
There's nothing to fix.
This is who you are.
Go ahead
and beat yourself up
telling yourself
you're an addict,
and that you're living your life
all the wrong ways.
Honey, you're the way to be.
And don't let anyone
tell you otherwise.
Most people are asleep
at the wheel.
At least you have
the willingness
to look at your own behavior
and write about it.
You live the way you live
because it's your art,
your process.
It helps you
understand yourself.
It-- It helps you get to know
other people better.
It's a catalyst for your work.
So embrace who you are.
Embrace who I am.
Yeah, I can do that,
maybe.
Well, slow down there.
Don't get too healthy.
Otherwise, you won't have
a job here anymore.
Wait, so I really
have a job here?
Yes, you really have
a job here.
Oh, my God!
Welcome to the family,
Stella Fox.
Put your dancing shoes on,
baby.
We're goin' out tonight.
Change of plans.
Turns out I'm fine.
Okay, cool. Yeah. Bye.
-Oh! Jesus Christ!
-Oh!
-Where are you walking so fast?
-Oh, my God.
I was trying to go home.
Oh, yeah?
Yeah? Where's that?
Oh, my God.
It's none of your business.
Well, it's a little bit
my business
if you almost k*ll me
walking there so fast.
Okay. Tudor City.
I live in a place
called Tudor City, all right?
-Cat's out of the bag.
-You live in Tudor City?
I love Tudor City.
Bullshit. Nobody--
Nobody knows
where Tudor City is,
believe me.
I know where Tudor City is.
Oh, you do?
I do.
Katharine Hepburn
used to live there.
Did she really?
Yeah.
I didn't know that.
Yeah.
Oh, well, I'm impressed.
Classic New York.
Yes, it's classic New York.
Oh, my God.
I've been trying
to tell everybody.
It is classic New York.
Thank you.
I'm actually going there
right now.
Okay.
If you wanted to, like,
share a cab or...
With you?
Yeah.
With me.
Um...
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Messy (2024)
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