Foot in mouth syndrome

And as our lips parted...

Harvey: Wow.
Lydia: What is it?
Harvey: I just, I can't believe that I'm going home with a girl like you.

She laughed.

Lydia: Why?
Harvey: Well, let's face it, you're a little out of my league.

Lydia's eyes narrowed. She looked confused. I backtracked.

Harvey: No, no-- I mean I'm out of your league.

Oddly, that also didn't sound right. Her hands slid away from my hips.

Harvey: No, no. Listen, I had it right the first time. What I'm trying to say is: I shouldn't even be near a girl like you.

Lydia's eyes remained wide and still.

Harvey: In a good way! Right? You get what I'm saying? I'm the riff raff, here. You know? I'm not explaining myself correctly.

My forehead moistened.

Harvey: What I mean is that you are in a superior league to my own, one in which I should not play, er, not because I don't want to, of course --of course-- I really want to, you have no idea. I was just saying, commenting really, idly, I wasn't even trying to-- I was just saying that it's funny--

And then nervous laughter on my part.

Harvey: --that you and I even got together tonight you know? Considering the insurmountable... er...

Lydia stood before me now, arms at her sides, mouth agape, eyes bemused.

Harvey: Anyway, enough talk. We should--
Lydia: I should go.
Harvey: Of course.