Darryl Mead: Listen, Carla, you want to call me later? We can go out and have some dinner.
Carla: Are you kidding? I'm there. Wait a minute. I can't go. Damn.
Darryl Mead: Why not? You got to work?
Carla: No. I don't want you to think any less of me, but I'm married.
Darryl Mead: Why should that stop you?
Carla: Sheesh, you're a pig. Now I really wish I could go out with you.
Darryl Mead: Just in case. [drops his phone number down Carla's bra]
Carla: I don't know when a paper cut felt this good.
Darryl Mead: I'll see you, Sam. Thanks for the tips, Carla. I hope I hit a home run tonight.
Carla: I swear, if I was single, you'd have hit one already.