All of us.
When that happens, I can't help feeling like Tropper has an axe to grind. Also, the Hot Girls Only Date Douchebags line of reasoning sets me on fire. WOE IS ME, THE PARTICULAR OBJECT OF MY AFFECTIONS DOES NOT RETURN THAT AFFECTION AND IT IS NOT BECAUSE I LACK HUMOR OR KINDNESS OR AMBITION OR INTEGRITY OR ANY OTHER QUALITIES A WOMAN MIGHT FIND ATTRACTIVE IN A MAN IT IS BECAUSE I LACK DELTOIDS. Give Hot Women a fucking bit of credit.
So that's when I put This Is Where I Leave You down, when Judd began making idle speculations about the bank teller's preference in romantic partner and also whether or not she went to college (he guesses probably not because LOL HOT SMART GIRLS) and who her friends are (hairdressers and tanning salon clerks, probably) and I'm done.
I've returned To Rise Again At A Decent Hour to the library already, so I don't have an exact quote for the moment I realized I was done with this asocial dentist who just doesn't get why people moisturize their hands I mean what's the appeal (the appeal is not having dry, cracked hands, which isn't a huge empathetic mountain to summit even if you don't, yourself, share that desire), but I noticed I wasn't enjoying the book, noticed I was on page 50, and shut that bitch without a qualm.
LOOK HOW MANY HOURS OF MY LIFE I HAVE SAVED. So, so many.