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Personality disorders
R.: Do you ever wish you were somebody else?
G.: Never. Do you?
R.: Every day. Every single day.
G.: Who do you wish you were?
R.: When I was a boy, I wanted to be B., my best friend. ... You know. The type of boy who got the second look from the girls. Good shape, good smile.
G.: And later?
R.: Darryl Strawberry, for a while. But the old Strawberry, the one from the mid-80s, and not have the same bad future.
G.: (laughs) You're white.
R.: Yeah, I know.
G.: And now who do you want to be?
R.: Now? Well...
G.: Come on!
R.: Are you drunk?
G.: Close to it.
R.: I'll tell you when you're drunk.
G.: Tell me now. I'm drunk, I swear.
R.: Promise?
G.: Yep. Drunk as a bee in a sunflower.
R.: ... I wish I was you.
G.: ... Me?
R.: Yes.
G.: I don't understand.
R.: Yeah, me either. I mean, you've got a stunning wife and a great job and perfect teeth. I can't understand why, either.
G.: Look, you're sort of bothering me.
R.: I'm sorry. I don't mean to, you know. It's just...you know. I'm me. I don't want to be me.
G.: Well, you can't hit me, because I'm drunk and can't control my actions or thoughts, so I'm saying this: I wouldn't want to be you, either. (laughs)
R.: I've changed my mind. You aren't a fitting 'want' for me any longer.
G.: Why? Because I've insulted you?
R.: Yeah, maybe.
G.: Well, (censored) you, then.
R.: You, too.
G.:
R.:
G.:
R.: (laughs) I scared you there for a minute, didn't I.
G.: Little bit, yeah.
R.: Good. Now buy me another drink.
G.: I'll buy you a punch in the mouth, you (censored).
R.: I'll give you your change and then some.
G.: Ooh.
R.: Ooh, yourself. Buy me a drink.
G.: You're drunk.
R.: So are you.
G.: I wouldn't want to be you when you get home tonight.
R.: I wouldn't want to be you on your best day. So there.
G.: So there.
R.: Right.
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