“It never would have worked out,” Leslie says wisely. She sprays more whipped cream onto Ann’s waffles. Ann transfers the whipped cream back onto Leslie’s plate with her fork. Leslie doesn’t seem to notice. Just keeps eating.
“Yeah,” Ann says, because it sounds a lot truer when Leslie says it.
They’re having a post-relationship rundown. That’s what Leslie keeps calling it. It sounds better than Depressing Post-Breakup Wallow Night. But they’re drowning themselves in wine, waffles, and whipped cream on a Friday night while Two Weeks Notice plays on Oxygen, the volume turned down low. Two Weeks Notice is Leslie’s favorite Hugh Grant movie. Because of Sandra Bullock’s character. Ann had this figured out before Leslie told her, for the record. Ann realized one day, when she was at Target and she saw this set of four glasses with multicolored polka dots on them, that she’s developed this weird Leslie thing, this Leslie sense, where she knows exactly what kind of stuff Leslie would love and why and it’s almost like she can hear Leslie happily chattering about why in her head when she looks at whatever it is. So that’s how it works. Her Leslie sense. It’s a Leslie sense.
Not a Leslie thing.
That sounds …. weird.
“I mean, Chris is a great guy! He’s just a little – intense.”
“So intense,” Ann agrees. Like, that guy is trying to run to the moon. And he’s almost there.
Why does she keep dating all these City Hall guys? What is it about City Hall? Does it have, like, some power over her? And why do all of the guys suck, even when they don't suck? Maybe she's the one who sucks.
Fortunately, it's hard to feel like you suck when you're with Leslie.
“And that didn’t really seem like your type at all,” Leslie continues now, frowning. There’s whipped cream on her nose. It’s really funny and kind of adorable. That is a Leslie thing. Not Ann’s Leslie thing. She doesn’t have one of those. “I mean, first you date Andy, then you date Mark. And they’re both really great guys! But they’re not all that driven. They’re pretty laidback. They’re pretty chill. They’re pretty—”
“Laaaaaazy,” Ann supplies. It’s not really fair. Mark was really good at his job. He just didn’t care about it.
“Not lazy!” Leslie says, waving a stern finger.
“Okay, fine, lazy,” Leslie admits. She starts to look devious. “Honestly, next I thought you might hook up with Ron.”
“Ew!” Ann throws a handful of M&Ms at her. Leslie brought over so many M&Ms. Leslie is a genius.
“I’m glad you didn’t hook up with Ron,” Leslie is quick to add. She catches an M&M and pops it into her mouth. It’s a blue one.
“Me too. Ugh. Moustache!”
“Hey! That moustache is really distinguished. That moustache strikes fear and awe into the hearts of Pawnee citizens worldwide. Or, well, Pawnee-wide.”
“I bet when he kisses you, it feels like being attacked by the back of a sponge,” Ann speculates.
Leslie gets her Lecture Face for a couple of seconds, but then she just starts giggling instead. She has a little bit of a witch cackle when she laughs really hard, but a good witch. Glinda.
“Anyway!” Leslie continues, when she can finally breathe again. (Ann and Leslie agreed awhile back that it’s okay for Leslie to laugh so hard she can’t breathe as long as Ann’s around, because hi, nurse. Ann knows how to take care of that stuff. Mouth to mouth. Or, no. Not that.) “Chris was just so – I don’t know, now that you guys aren’t going out anymore it’s okay for me to say it – kind of … nuts? He was insane! Where did all that motivation even come from? Chris! With his enthusiasm, and his vitamins the size of baby teacup poodles, and – do you think he’ll actually run to the moon?”
“Not the actual moon,” Ann says.
Leslie gets sidetracked. “That would be so cool. I wonder if I could run to the moon. Pawnee Parks Director Runs To The Moon, World Says Daaang, Girl!, Everyone Applauds. Or, well. Not runs. Running’s hard. Maybe jog it. Power walk it. Skip it? No. That’d be too cutesy. Gallop it!” She grins, giddy at the thought, and then puts her serious face back on. Or tries, at least. “But anyway. I guess I juuust didn’t get it. You, with somebody like that?” She wrinkles her nose. “Why did you even date him in the first place? You’re so smart and beautiful and cool and … and you should just be able to date whoever the heck it is you like, Ann Perkins. Even if it’s Justin Bieber and everyone tells you you're gross. Or Tom. --Don’t date Tom.”
Ann reaches over and wipes the whipped cream off of Leslie’s nose with the corner of her sleeve. Leslie smiles goofily at her.
“I like crazy people,” she tells Leslie.
“Oookay,” Leslie says with a big shrug, “if you say so. But still. Stay away from Tom.”
Then she sprays a perfect dollop of whipped cream into her wine.
“Crazy person!” Ann says admiringly as Leslie downs it.
The phrase is fresh in her brain. That’s all.