Michel: Nine rooms for Luke from Luke's diner?
Lorelai: That's right.
Michel: French Fry convention?
Lorelai: No, just personal.
Michel: Milkshake symposium?
Lorelai: No, it's personal and I'm vouching for him.
Michel: Soda pop seminar?
Lorelai: Stop.
Michel: Pickle party?

Michel: There's a couple here I thought I recognized but I was not sure. So I consulted an old guest ledger from the Independence Inn and found a physical description that confirmed their identities.
Lorelai: Physical description?
Michel: Yes. I had described them with astonishing accuracy, down to the crooked eyes and unsightly moles.
Lorelai: You have a system of describing what people's moles look like?
Michel: Mm-hmm. Moles, freckles, estimate of weight, are they buxom, is their chin cleft, do they walk with any sort of limp, et cetera, et cetera. But this is beside the point. You remember the Bathrobe Bandits.
Lorelai: [gasps] No.
Michel: The married couple, from Massachusetts that stole bathrobes from the Independence Inn every time they came. We called them the Bathrobe Bandits. They are here.
Lorelai: Did they bring their moles?

Sookie: Please, help. You're just standing there.
Michel: I'm staying out of the way. In situations like this, "do not get in the way" is so valuable.
Sookie: Well, get in the way. Entertain the kids.
Michel: Like I'm Sponge Boy Big Pants or something? I do not entertain children.

Lorelai: Where is all this stupid stuff coming from?
Michel: Looks like classic Home Shopping Channel merchandise to me.
Lorelai: I have not bought anything off the Home Shopping Channel.
Michel: That you remember.
Lorelai: How could I not remember?
Michel: You could be deluding yourself, suppressing a shameful, costly, and yes, extremely tacky shopping addiction from your memory.
Lorelai: I do not have a Home Shopping Channel addiction. This does look familiar, like I've seen it before.
Michel: Mmm-hmm. And was Joan Rivers or Suzanne Somers holding it up?
Lorelai: I'm not buying these things.
Michel: You keep telling yourself that.

Lorelai: Is that our website?
Michel: It is.
Lorelai: What happened to it?
Michel: I made some modifications.
Lorelai: It's just a big picture of you.
Michel: Well, I figured since I'm the one who put the website together and I'm the one continuously updating the website, then I should be featured prominently on the website.
Lorelai: Featured? Sure. But where's the inn? All I see is your face.
Michel: Aha! But if you want to hear about the inn, you click on my mouth. See? And if you want pictures of the inn, you click on my eyes. And if you want to post something about the inn, you click on my ears. Clever, no?
Lorelai: You want to argue about this now or later?
Michel: Eh, later. I'm having too much fun.

Michel: Let's discuss the programs.
Lorelai: The programs.
Sookie: You want programs?
Michel: Do you think when the Princess of Wales was interred at Althorp the Spencer family was asked whether or not they wanted programs?
Lorelai: Probably not.

Lorelai: Why were you deposed?
Michel: My neighbor had this dog, a frisky little scamp that used to love to yap to his friends all night long. It was so cute. Then one day he disappeared. I told the police what I knew, but sadly the adorable little chatterbox was never found. It was tragic.
Lorelai: You got rid of a dog?
Michel: No.
Lorelai: How could you get rid of a dog?
Michel: I will gladly show you the transcript from the lawyer and the results of the lie detector test.
Lorelai: You're heinous.
Michel: And very well rested.

Lorelai: [phone rings] Michel, the phone.
Michel: Mm-hmm. It rings.
Lorelai: Can you answer it?
Michel: No. People are particularly stupid today. I can't talk to any more of them.
Lorelai: You know who's really nice to talk to? The people at the unemployment agency.
Michel: [answers phone] Independence Inn, Michel speaking. No, I'm sorry, we're completely booked.

Lorelai: Michel, get that, please.
Michel: I cannot.
Lorelai: We've been over this. We all cover the phone. That includes you.
Michel: Don't misunderstand. I wanted to answer it, I truly did. But today, I'm suffering from ennui.
Lorelai: Ennui?
Michel: Severe ennui. You know what ennui is, yes?
Lorelai: Yes, Webster's defines ennui as a lazy, soon-to-be-out-of-work French concierge who won't answer the phone.
Michel: Look, I've made my peace with the fact that everyone who calls here is a notch above brain dead. And that the pennies I am thrown each week are in exchange for me dealing with these people in a nonviolent manner. And usually that is fine, but today, sorry, lady, I have ennui.
Lorelai: So, you're sleepy?
Michel: It's a metaphysical angst.
Lorelai: So you want to go beddy-bye?
Michel: You make light, it increases my ennui.

Elderly Woman: [British accent] This will be absolutely wonderful. There are supposed to be darling shops all up and down this street. Oh, excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where we can find the best antiques?
Michel: At your house, I'd guess.