Want to see how a man handles love? Dan comes into his office, looking for Rebecca. She pops up behind him and says she wouldn't have left. He says there was something he forgot to tell her before: "If you want to work on repairing your marriage, I will in whatever way you want support that." She asks him, "Really?" and he says yes. She kisses him softly. She says she'd really rather not think about too much more tonight, and Dan says that's okay too. He moves to leave, but stops in the doorway. "He's such a bad guy, Rebecca. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but I know these things." He leans forward and says, "I'm not so good myself." Oh, please, Dan. I get half my love from Sports Night fans just for having the same name as you. Rebecca asks if she can watch him on the television in his office, and he says sure.
Dan strolls back to the desk, where Casey is on air giving highlights. Once Casey gets off, they start talking around their respective bruised hearts by talking about basketball. Dan mentions something about needing to get his head in the game. Bobbi comes up and says she's got some stats for Dan to look at. He asks if Casey wants to get in on it, but Casey mutters something about going to "talk to her" and takes off. Bobbi starts going over something basketball-related, but Dan interrupts her with, "What a jerk I was." She seems surprised. "I should have called you," he continues. "If my not calling you made you feel any less than what you are, I'm sorry." She's taken aback, but thanks him. He's getting off kind of easy here, as Bobbi seems to have dealt with this a long time ago. There was a girl, let's call her C, who I hooked up with during frosh week my first year in college, and she got really clingy really quickly. It wasn't a one-time thing, I considered her my girlfriend, but she was always calling. So I didn't intend to just stop calling her -- she called me often enough that I didn't really have to. I'd get back to my room and there'd be a message from her on the phone, but within half an hour of arriving she'd be calling anyway. I guess what happened is that eventually she realized I wasn't calling her back anymore, and she just stopped calling by December. So I'm free and clear, right? That's what guys do, right? We had different circles of friends in school, so I'd see her in the cafeteria but that was pretty much it. It wasn't until St. Patrick's Day when I bumped into her at a party that I realized what an asshole thing it was to do. I was happy to see her, she didn't seem to actually hate me, and she commented on me wearing green. I told her that I'm part Irish. "Fifty percent Irish, twenty-five percent Scottish, and twenty-five percent Italian," I said. "And a hundred percent sleazeball," she said, kind of half under her breath. I was kind of drunk and said, "What?" And she said, "nothing, nothing," and walked away. So the next day I called her up and we talked, and she explained how much I'd hurt her, and I apologized and let her berate me because it was what I deserved, and I figured that was it. She went to another school the following year (no, not because of me -- at my university in Halifax it was pretty common to take your first year there and then go somewhere else).