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INT.  ITALIAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT

 

TERRY and their blind date share a bread basket, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar.

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"Teflon" Terry

Hmmm, well my last relationship, the guy before you—I showed you his picture! The one of him shirtless in Hawaii and his body is just like bow-wow-wow. Anyway, he hurt me. He hurt me a lot, like an arrow went right through my heart and hit my spleen, then made it all the way down to my gallbladder, then finally pierced my liver; then hit my pancreas. He drives a white Camry, and for two years after, every time I saw a white Camry I would just throw my arms up in the air and scream. You know like, “No...God Noooo! " It got pretty bad. Once, he tried to call the cops on me, for sending him “threatening letters in the mail.” Okay, that was art. Those were my collages. But they couldn’t prove it was me, Haha they don’t call me Teflon Terry for nothing. Nothing sticks to me! Ha! Except peanut-butter! I mean, it's the strangest thing. I’ll make peanut-butter toast for breakfast in the morning and go about my day, then I'll get in my pjs for bed and find peanut-butter all over my bedsheets! It’s ridiculous. And then I have to decide, you know, do I get up and wash off, and change my clothes, and strip the bed...or do I just put my head down. So I’m sorry if I smell a little Jiffy, Or Peter Pan. Pick your poison. I hope you aren’t allergic. And what about you, what are you looking for in a partner?