Gilmore Girls · Season 3
I've called several times the past few weeks and you've skillfully avoided every call.
No, that's not true. I've left messages on your machine.
Yes, messages. And then if I happened to pick up, you'd hang up. Or if the maid picked up, you'd ask for me, then claim you were driving through a tunnel so you might get cut off, and then you'd make garbling noises and hang up.
Shouldn't we give thanks first?
Thanks for what?
Well, that we're not Native Americans who got their land stolen in exchange for smallpox infested blankets.
Amen.
So no offense but what's with that lame-o kiss?
What?
You and Jess, you look like a couple of chickens pecking each other.
Mind your own business.
Well it was right in front of me.
So, I don't need a review.
My Thanksgiving is turning into a Wes Craven movie.
How so?
I called shelters to volunteer to serve food. It’s Thanksgiving – you’d think they have needs. Nope. Every stupid soup kitchen in town turned me down because they have enough volunteers.
Bummer.
I’m on a couple waiting lists, but it doesn’t look good.
I’ve never heard of too many volunteers.
Who are all these jackasses who volunteered anyway? They can’t all be students like me. They’re not all putting it on a college application. I get something out of it and these other people don’t get a thing. Talk about selfish.
[Jess carries the trash bag down the street, and he finds Dean standing on the sidewalk.]
Nothing to say?
Guess not.
That’s funny, you usually have something to say.
Guess I’m all talked out.
What’s the matter, Jess? Why you walking away?
It’s getting a little West Side Story here, Dean, and I gotta warn you, my dancing skills are not up to snuff.
But now’s your chance, there’s no one else around.
Go home. Cool off.
Come on, make one of your Boy Scout references, or a good Farmer John joke. I got my Doose’s Market apron with me: you want me to put it on, give you a little inspiration? I don’t get it, what happened, you suddenly like me now?
Oh yeah, I was just about to invite you campin'.
Good, okay, now we’re gettin' somewhere.
I’m not gonna fight you, Dean.
Why?
‘Cause if I fight you, Rory’s gonna think it’s my fault, so just forget it, okay? Just forget it. Go home. Let it rest.
So Rory’s got a nice little hold on you now, huh?
Geez. [Dean gets right in front of his face.] Don’t do that.
How does it feel?
It feels like I’m with Rory and you’re not.
You know, when all this happened with you and me and Rory, I figured I’d just stay out of everyone’s way, that that would be easiest. But now, I’m looking at you and I’m thinking, I’m gonna run from him? The Glad man? This is my town, I’m not hiding. And I don’t have be remotely calm around you anymore, and I like that feeling. I like it a lot. Happy Thanksgiving, Jess.
If I came in there wearing white gloves, what would I find?
That you could pull a rabbit out of your hat?
This couch cannot stay.
Yes, it can.
It’s awful.
It can hear you.
Okay, so monkey lamp’s in the closet, singing rabbi’s in a drawer, and all Spice Girl memorabilia’s under your bed. How do I look?
Like a woman who does not own any Spice Girl memorabilia.
You look pretty, too.
You need to develop a defense mechanism for dealing with Grandma.
What are you talking about?
You just need a system, a new mindset. Take me, for example.
What about you?
Well, I know there are many things in my life you don't approve of.
Like what?
Like this couch.
Well, this couch is terrible.
Okay, good – you think the couch is terrible. Now, at one point in my life, you saying a couch that I carefully picked out and had to pay off over eight months is terrible might've hurt my feelings, but not anymore.
No?
No.
Why not?
Because one day, I decided that instead of being hurt and upset by your disapproval, I'm gonna be amused. I'm gonna find it funny. I'm even going to take a little bit of pleasure in it.
You take pleasure in my disapproval?
I encourage it sometimes just for a laugh.
I don't know what to think of that.
Think, ‘hey, that's brilliant', because this idea could set you free.
Is Jess your real name?
Yes.
Do you like it?
It's fine.
Would you rather be named Bill?
No.
Frank?
No.
Mike?
No.
Bob?
No.
Ed?
Does this belong to you?
Clara, you want a snowcone?
Yes, will you get me a snowcone?
Absolutely. Go stand in the middle of the street and wait for me, I'll be right back.
Who would ever have thought that all inns need doors?
Not me.
And floors.
Doors and floors, we can’t afford that.
Well, we better, otherwise our guests will fall right through to China.
I can just imagine the phone calls.
How many times do I have to tell them? You can’t put a two-inch ladle of gravy into a one-inch potato crater. You either need a smaller ladle or a bigger crater – otherwise, you get this.
Gravy on your asparagus.
Yes.
Paris, the cafeteria workers serve hundreds of students a day. A little gravy spillage is natural.
That was our lawyer calling to inform me that one of our former maids is suing for wrongful termination.
Hm.
You might at least act surprised.
It’s not the first time, is it?
It most certainly is.
Really?
Yes, Lorelai, really.
Well, then, I’m surprised.
Which maid was it?
Gertha, the one from Hamburg, Germany.
Which one was she?
You remember. She was the one who you made all those Hamburg-hamburger jokes to.
God, I beat that dead horse.
With glee.
She was the clomper.
The clomper?
She'd be upstairs making the bed and it'd sound like a Munich beer hall rally.
That's why you fired her?
Yes.
Because she made noise when she walked?
Yes.
Was she a good maid otherwise?
What?
Besides the clomping, was she polite, on time, made sure the little fork went on the outside?
Have you been listening to me? She was not performing her duties as I wished them to be performed. Everything else is beside the point.
Well, I guess it’s always something, isn’t it?
What’s that supposed to mean?
It means you always seem to find the one thing about a maid that negates all of her good qualities. I mean, at a certain point, isn’t it just easier to let a couple things slide?
I see. So it’s my fault?
I didn’t say that.
No, Lorelai, you did. For years, I’ve been listening to you and your father and everyone else go on and on about how demanding I am, how I have to have things a certain way. Well, guess what? I pay to have them that way. I pay more than anyone else pays their maids, and when things are not the way I want, that means I’m not getting what I paid for. Why is that so hard to understand?
It isn’t hard to understand, it’s just –
If you pay for first class and the airline sticks you in coach, people expect you to be upset. No one calls you demanding or unreasonable. And yet here is this woman whom I pay more than she can get anywhere else in Hartford, whose severance package could finance a summer cruise down the Rhine, dragging me into court saying that I was unfair. Why? Because having paid for one thing, I’m not content with something else? That makes me unfair? Well, then, so be it. Let someone else pay first class and ride in steerage, not me.
Excuse me, Mrs. Gilmore, dinner’s ready
Thank you, Brooke, we’ll be right there.
[Brooke walks away; Lorelai and Rory start to get up]
Wait, wait, wait. Do you hear that?
Hear what?
Exactly.
Okay. Now, Sookie’s on top of the menu. Let’s make sure the dining room’s open for a late lunch, and we need to confirm the number of rooms they’ll need.
Yes, I have all of this written down on a notepad right next to my self-help book, "Why Don’t People Think You Know What The Hell You’re Doing?"
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Gilmore Girls pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
