Do you realise, if it wasn’t for a coincidence of floorboard repair and post fifty odd years ago, I wouldn’t exist? I just find that weird. Scary. My whole life is the result of some dumb mistake. I feel like I’m not supposed to be here. Is that sounding, like, really dumb and stupid?
Yes. Come on, let’s get some more coffees and see who we can fire from graphics.
Well, I’m sorry if my problems are not providing enough entertainment for you, Lynda!
Oh, don’t be like that, Kenny. They usually do.
I want to discuss this.
Kenny, what's the point? You'll only start going on about philosophy and destiny and the meaning of life. I hate those. [To the waitress] Actually, forget the biscuits, he's putting on weight.
Try and understand. I want to discuss a problem I am having with my closest friend.
Haven't you got any other problems?
Specifically, the problem I have concerning the letter.
But I don't like that one!
Kenny [to the waitress]: I am not putting on weight, I will have those biscuits, thank you.
Lynda [to the waitress]: Just the one, though.
Look, let me put it another way -.
A really different way?
Remember that time I kept getting a wrong number? I was trying to phone my aunt.
Oh, right, yeah. The girl in Dublin.” [To the waitress] He fell in love with a wrong number!
Look, I really clicked with that girl. Now, suppose I had actually found out her number, and we’d met up? It’s possible, I’m only saying possible, that we could have ended up some day together. Married, with kids, or whatever.
Some people get over a wrong number faster than this.
That's not the point I'm making. Now just think of all the future yet unborn whose existence could depend on something as dumb as a wrong number.
Lynda [to the waitress]: Actually, forget the coffees, I'm worried about his blood pressure, too.
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