Al: Nice-looking woman.
Robert: She isn't my type.
Al: What are you talking about? Look at yourself. You're nothing. You're nobody. You're wanted in connection with a violent crime. You're cleaning the floor of a diner. She is an intelligent, passionate, beautiful, rich woman. The issue of whether or not she's your type is not one that you're likely to have to resolve in this world... or, indeed, the next, since she will be going to some heaven for glamorous pussy, and you will be cleaning the floor of a diner in hell.
Robert: I guess so.
Al: So why are you even thinking about it?