Ray: Do you wanna go dancing Saturday night?
Debra: Dancing? You and me?
Ray: Yeah, you know, if you want.
Debra: Well, we can't Saturday, but-
Ray: Okay, fine.
Debra: No, no, no. But maybe some other time.
Ray: Yeah. Some other time. I've heard them all, okay? How about, "l can't. I'm washing my hair"? Or, "l don't think of you that way. " Or, "I'm not allowed to date Italians." Yeah, I get it, okay? I get it. I'm a dork.
Debra: Ray, I can't go dancing with you Saturday because you're going to be out of town with the Knicks.
Ray: How convenient.
Debra: Ray, and I don't want you to go dancing with me just to prove to yourself that you're not a dork.
Ray: Well, I don't know how else to do it. This is a mixed marriage.

Ray: Why do you think I married you?
Ray: I don't know.
Debra: Come on.
Ray: I'm nice.
Debra: Yes. What else?
Ray: I have good hair.
Debra: Yes.
Ray: I have a car.
Debra: You have your own car?
Ray: It's my father's, but I can get it whenever I want.
Debra: How come I never see you in the cafeteria?
Ray: 'Cause my mom makes me come home for lunch.