George: I don't think we should see each other anymore. You're great but I'm I'm riddled with personal problems.
Patrice: What did I do?
George: Nothing It's not you. It's me. I have a fear of commitment. I don't know how to love.
Patrice: You hate my earrings don't you?
George: No, no.
Patrice: And you didn't comment on the chop sticks.
George: I love the chop sticks. I, I personally prefer a fork but they look very nice.
Patrice: You're not telling me the truth. I must have done something.
George: I have a fear of intimacy.
Patrice: Don't give me cliches. I have a right to know. What did I do wrong?
George: Nothing. It's not you.
Patrice: I want the truth.
George: The truth? You want the truth? It is your earrings! It is the chopsticks! But it's so much more. You're pretentious. You call everyone by their full name. You called my doorman, Sammy, "Samuel". But you didn't even say "Samuel", you went "Sam-u-el". Papier-mâché? What is Papier-mâché?