(Lane goes into Sophie's Music and is unseen going to the back of the store.) Kirk: (hands resume to Sophie) That's my home phone number, my cell number, my pager number, and there's a partial list of references. Sophie: Yeah, okay, I'll hang onto this, but as I said before we just opened so I'm not really looking to hire anybody right now. Kirk: I am licensed to carry a gun if that will help. Sophie: (sarcastically) You have no idea how much. (Lane is looking at some instruments and is just about to touch a guitar.) Sophie: May I help you? Lane: Oh no thank you I was just looking. Sophie: We like the looking. It's the touching we're a little iffy on. Lane: Actually I was just going to (bumps into a cello)-ooh! That probably would have been considered as touching, wouldn't it? Sophie: (sighing) Yes. Lane: (sees a red drum set) Oh my... Sophie: That's a DW drum set with Zildjian cymbals. Lane: It's beautiful. Sophie: You play? Lane: Oh no, I wish. Sophie: Sit. Lane: What? Sophie: Sit down, see how it feels. Lane: Oh no, I couldn't. Sophie: Why? Your legs don't bend? Lane: No they bend. Sophie: Okay, if they bend, then bend them. Lane: Well, okay. (sits down on stool) This is a good stool. Sophie: Yes, it is. Here. (hands Lane a set of drum sticks) You can't sit down at a drum set without your sticks. Lane: Right, 'cause that would be stupid. Sophie: And remember, no touching. Lane: Right. (pretends to hit the drums without making noise) Sophie: You look good. Lane: Thanks. Sophie: (laughs and leaves)
Babette: Oh! Rory, Sweety! Hold on there, baby. Rory: Hey, Babette. Is everything okay? Babette: I should be asking you that question. Come here. Let me see that arm. Oh, you poor little thing. How you doin', huh? Rory: I'm doing fine. Babette: Ah, look at ya' being brave like that after all you've been through. Geeze! It's so hard being a woman! Isn't it? Rory: I guess. Babette: I mean you got your morals and your standards and your good common sense and then, BAM! You meet some guy and then all that goes right out the window. Rory: But... Babette: For every good woman, there's a dirty little wolf just ready to lead her astray. you can't help it. He's got the eyes, the chin, chest hair you could carpet your dining room with. What's a woman to do? We're not made of steal for God's sakes. Rory: Babette... Babette: I was in a cult once. Did I tell you that? Rory: No! Babette: I met this guy once, gorgeous, tan, looked just like Mickey Hargitay. We had coffee. He gave me a pamphlet. Next thing you know, I'm wearin' a moomoo playing the tambourine jumping up and down at the airport. Rory: Okay, I really have to get inside. Babette: Oh, sure hon, sure. You go take good care of yourself, and don't be embarrassed toots. This has happened to all of us.