Paris: I can't do this. Rory: What? Paris: Date. I can't date. I'm not genetically set up for it. Rory: Not true. Paris: I get no pleasure out of the prospect or the preparation. I'm covered in hives, I've showered four times, and for what? Some guy who doesn't even have the brains to buy a Zagat so we don't wind up in a restaurant that's really just a front for a cocaine laundering ring?