We should be eating, I'm hungry! Don't they want us eating? Isn'...
Lorelai: We should be eating, I'm hungry! Don't they want us eating? Isn't that what the point of the Hungry Diner is, to feed the hungry diner? Or is the point of the Hungry Diner to keep the diner hungry, in which case they should call it the Eternally Hungry Diner cuz you're not gonna get any food here, loser!
Rory: That would be quite a sign.
(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 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.
Sophie: (laughs and leaves)
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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.
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.
Babette: I was in a cult once. Did I tell you that?
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.
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