God, you're so beautiful. You're like an SF 6.5 at Kansas 10. Do you want another shot?

[voicemail beep] Yo, Isabel!

[man] This random girl has been leaving voicemails on my new work cell. They're for her sister. I love dating. Except for the part where you feel like a hideous, unlovable troll that might match with Ted Bundy.

[upbeat music playing]

[voicemail beep]

My boss is so unhinged, my dude.

[chef] Line up!

Yes, chef! Did little orphan Annie come into my kitchen last night and shed her ginger a** on this tart?

[laughs] Wait, how does she not know that her sister changed her number? I'll have to see what's happening. Hey, Iz. I'm just calling you to ask how am I supposed to do this without you?

["Beautiful Things" by Benson Boone playing]

[woman] You're in a better place. Probably slurping face with Heath Ledger as we speak, huh? But I miss you. ♪ For a while there, it was rough ♪

[woman] Isabel died in November. She was just the love of my life.

[all screaming, laughing] The voicemail's for her dead sister. You gotta tell her. No, no, no, this is her way of healing.

[music continues to play] This is dumb, but I have this fantasy that someone's gonna come and sit down next to me. Like, I'm Meg Ryan. We lock eyes. Then it happens. Sorry, is this seat taken? ♪ Please stay ♪ ♪ I want you, I need you, oh, God ♪

[woman] I am boy sober. I am girl sober. I will not make out with you. Even if you bag me, I won't do it. Scout's honor. ♪ These beautiful things that I've got ♪ Tell her the truth. Just say the words.

[exhales deeply] Jill. Uh… ♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh, ooh, ooh ♪ This is like a sick reboot of You've Got Mail. Tom Hanks is America's sweetheart. You are not Tom Hanks!

[music fades]