It's Sunday night, and Susan is watching Jersey Shore. While Snooki and Vinny trade inane blows in the background, she grabs a mottled blanket and slides away from the television to make room for her dog on the couch. The program goes to commercial break, and as Susan wraps herself in wool, she momentarily shifts her gaze toward the canine lying at her feet.
"Last night was horrible," she declares. "It's a big ego blow when fat, old weirdos who never have a chance in their life say ‘no' to you. Like, come on." She rolls her eyes and falls silent. The complaint is one that women around Penn are likely echoing at that exact moment as they break down their weekends with their girlfriends. But unlike the regular crowd at Blarney or Smoke's, striking out with men holds an entirely different connotation for Susan.
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