Young couple, (very) early twenties.
Her: So, which of my friends do you think are hot?
[He tells her]
Her: Oh, EVERYONE likes her. Of course you like her. She's got a great body.
Him: Her body's not so great.
Her: You always go for blondes, don't you? [She is brunette]
Him: Not really. [thinks] Oh yeah, I guess I do. Yeah, I do find blondes more attractive.
Her: It's just that there are more attractive blondes around than attractive brunettes. Don't you think?
Him: No. I 'm just more attracted to blondes.
Her: [sounding a little hysterical now] I can't help my hair colour, you know! That's how I was born!
Long pause, some murmuring. He gives her a reassuring hug.
Him: That dress you tried on back there was really unflattering, wasn't it?
Her: Yeah, I thought it was!
I tune out in despair. Somehow suppress overwhelming urge, which I've had ever since I sat down at the beginning of this conversation, to say to them both: 'Hey, this conversation will not end well either of you'.
Also fight equally powerful urge to say to girl, who is leaking insecurity from every pore: 'Hey, you're gorgeous. Don't worry about it.' (She is.)