Brad Allen: [on the phone pretending to be Rex] Am I gonna see you tonight?

Jan: I'd love to Rex, but I already have a date.

Brad Allen: Who with?

Jan: A client. You don't know him. Jonathan Forbes.

Brad Allen: Of course, you're not the kind of girl who would break a date.

Jan: No I'm not.

Brad Allen: And I ain't the kinda guy who'd ask you to.

Jan: I know you're not.

Brad Allen: I'll pick you up at 8.

Jan: I'll be ready.

Hotel clerk: There's no phone number, but I have a forwarding address.

Jonathan Forbes: 241 Stoneybrook Road.

Hotel clerk: Why yes sir.

Jonathan Forbes: [slams counter] And you let her go.

Hotel clerk: Well, it wasn't my place...

Jonathan Forbes: No, it's my place, and I helped him pack.

Alma: [Jan's just got off the phone with Brad, laying down the "rules" for the party line, which Alma's been listening in, to their whole conversation. Alma hangs up the extension, in the kitchen, and picks up her morning cocktail, as Jan comes in] You know, he makes pretty good sense.

Jan: Were you listening in again?

Alma: Yes, ma'am.

Jan: Alma, have you no shame?

Alma: No, ma'am, he's brightened up many-a-dreary afternoon, for me.

Jan: What did he say that makes such "good sense"?

Alma: [quoting Brad] "If there's anything worse than a woman living alone, it's a woman saying she likes it."

Jan: Well, I do like it.

[Alma makes a face of disbelief]

Jan: I have a good job, a lovely apartment, I go out with very nice men to the best places; the theatre, finest restaurants...

[exasperated]

Jan: What am I missing?

Alma: [chuckling] When you have to ask, believe me, you're missin' it.

Jan: What's a girl supposed to do? Goo out on the street, and ask the first man she meets to come home with her?

Alma: No - don't do that, ma'am.

[chuckles to herself]

Alma: It don't work.

[Alma takes a sip of her drink]

Jan: He was a perfect gentleman.

Brad Allen: That's even worse than I thought.

Jan: What do you mean?

Brad Allen: Well there are some men who... hmmm how shall I put it? Well they're very fond of their mothers... They like to share bits of gossip... collect recipes.

Jan: What a vicious thing to say!

Jan: Officer, arrest this man - he's taking me up to his apartment!

Police Officer: Well, I can't say that I blame him, miss.

Brad Allen: Look, I don't know what's bothering you, but don't take your bedroom problems out on me.

Jan: I have no bedroom problems. There's nothing in my bedroom that bothers me.

Brad Allen: Oh-h-h-h. That's too bad.

Jonathan Forbes: You've been crying for 60 miles.

Brad Allen: I've had hangovers before, but this time, even my hair hurts.

Brad Allen: Are you getting out of that bed, or am I coming in after you?

Jan: You wouldn't dare!

Jan: Mr. Allen, this may come as a surprise to you, but there are some men who don't end every sentence with a proposition.

Brad Allen: Why don't you take her over for the rest of the evening?

Jonathan Forbes: Me?

Brad Allen: Yeah! Take her dancing maybe. She's dying to learn how to dance.

Jonathan Forbes: Wait wait. She doesn't know how to dance?

Brad Allen: Well naturally, she doesn't get out of the house very often.

Jonathan Forbes: What do you mean, "naturally"?

Brad Allen: Jonathan, believe me, you and Moose - I mean Miss Taggett will get along...

Jonathan Forbes: "Moose"?

Brad Allen: So what the girl picks up a nickname? You know, how cruel kids can be. Especially, when some is a little different.

Jonathan Forbes: Different? How Different?

Brad Allen: Well... You know...

[hesitatingly points to face]

Brad Allen: ... , just different.

Jonathan Forbes: [Pointing to a fat lady sitting at a table] That couldn't be her, could it?

Brad Allen: How can you tell?

[waves at the lady, who waves back]

Brad Allen: See? She's so friendly. C'mon.

Jonathan Forbes: Oh no! It's your muse. Happy Hunting!

[Gets coat, and leaves]

Brad Allen: Yes, indeed.

Jonathan Forbes: Brad, she is the sweetest, she is the loveliest, she is the most talented woman I have ever met.

Brad Allen: That's what you said when you married that stripper.

Jonathan Forbes: She wasn't a stripper. She was an exotic dancer... with trained doves.

Jonathan Forbes: Owww!

Brad Allen: What?

Jonathan Forbes: That chair. It just bit me.

Alma: If there's anything worse than a woman living alone, it's a woman saying she likes it.

Jan: At least my problems can be solved in one bedroom. You couldn't solve yours in a thousand!

Jonathan Forbes: In New York, you have air you can sink your teeth into. It has character.

Jan: [Jan and Brad are on the phone discussing a phone schedule] We're just going to have to live with each other.

Brad Allen: [Jan pauses, waiting for a response] Well?

Jan: I was waiting for you to say some off-color remark.

Brad Allen: Is that all you have on your mind?

Jan: Never mind my mind! You just stick to your half hour and I'll stick to mine!

Jan: [Trying to convince Alma she loves living alone] Well, what am I missing?

Alma: If you have to ask, you're missing it!

Jan: [walks in after finishing a meeting with Jonathan and seeing Alma's on the kitchen extension] Hi, All, any calls?

Alma: [swooning, puts her hand over the receiver] It's him.

[Alma goes back to listening on the phone, and Jan smirks and looks at her watch]

Jan: [Jan walks over to Alma, and takes the phone out of her hand] Mr. Allen, you're on *my* half-hour.

[Jan hangs the phone up with a smirk]

Alma: Party pooper!

[Alma grabs her bag, and lumbers to the front door]

Jan: [Jan chuckles and starts walking away when the phone rings. She picks it up] Hello?

Brad Allen: Don't ever do that, again.

Jan: Mr. Allen, we made an agreement; you were on *my* time.

Brad Allen: Alright. So, I overlapped by a few measly minutes. What am I supposed to do when someone calls me? Be as rude as you are?

Jan: Have you anything else to say?

Brad Allen: Yes. Get off my back, lady. Stop living vicariously on what you think I do! There are plenty of warm rolls in the bakery - stop pressing your nose against the window!

[slams phone down]

Jonathan Forbes: [after having awkwardly kissed Jan for the first time and seeing her unimpressed reaction] Well, they didn't hit the moon with the first missile shot either.

Jan: [after an awkward first kiss with "Rex"] If you'll excuse me, I better go to the powder moon. I mean room. Fix my lipstick.

Jan: Can you believe that? They sent a woman. That's like sending a marshmallow to put out a bonfire.

Brad Allen: Did she cry?

Jonathan Forbes: Cry? I never knew a woman that size had that much water in her.

Jan: I'm yours tonight. My darling possess me.

Jonathan Forbes: What a delightful situation! The great Brad Allen, chopped down to size, floating down the river with the rest of us logs.

Brad Allen: [Regarding Alma] The State Department could use her. What a party girl she'd make; in Moscow!

[Tony is driving Jan home; he pulls the car over and starts kissing and groping her]

Jan: [she shoves him away] Oh! Tony, please!

Tony Walters: Jan! You're so... so primitive!

Jan: [he leans into her again] Oh! Tony, control yourself! Remember, you're a *Harvard* man!

Tony Walters: [she shoves him away again] Not tonight, baby; I'm on vacation!

Jan: [he leans into her again] Oh, stop it! You're only 21!

Tony Walters: I dig older women!

Jan: [she tries slapping his hands away, to no avail] Oh! I've never seen a boy with so many *arms* before! Tony, so help me, I'm going to tell your mother!

Tony Walters: [pause as he gets off her] It's your word against mine.

Jan: [he leans into her again; she shoves him away and raises a clenched fist] Look! I've never belted a Phi Beta Kappa...

Tony Walters: Okay, okay, I'll take you home...

Jan: Okay.

Tony Walters: ...if you promise to stop and have one drink with me.

Jan: [looks at him sternly] *No*.

Jan: [he leans into her again] Ah! I'm certainly in no condition for *this*. Now, will you *please* start this car?

[Tony grins as he starts the car, and proceeds to take her to a nightclub]

[Tony has taken Jan to a nightclub; he's drunk while she hasn't even touched her glass. Sitting at the table next to them is the other end of Jan's party line, Brad, who she's never met]

Tony Walters: Come on, come on, drink up. You're still on your first one.

Jan: Tony, your mother is going to be terribly worried about you. Now, what do you say I *pour* you into a cab and send you home?

Tony Walters: You know something? You are being very uncooperative.

Jan: [rolls her eyes] Oh...

Tony Walters: Ah, come on, Jan!

[Brad overhears this and starts eavesdropping]

Tony Walters: Finish your drink! It's very nourishing!

Jan: [pushes her glass towards him] Will you please stop trying to get me drunk?

Tony Walters: Drunk? I'll have you know a Harvard man *never* resorts to getting a woman drunk. Except in an emergency. And *you*, Ms. Morrow...

[Brad's eyes go wide and he realizes who the woman Tony is addressing is]

Tony Walters: ...are an emergency.

Jan: Tony, I want you to get the check and let's get out of here and I mean it.

Tony Walters: No. I categorically refuse.

Jan: Alright. You can stay 'til AA comes for you. *I* am leaving.

Jonathan Forbes: Brad, as a friend... Sit down, boy. As a friend, I only hope one day you find a girl like this. You ought to quit all this chasing around, get married.

Brad Allen: Why? Why?

Jonathan Forbes: You're not getting any younger, fella. Oh, sure, it's fun, it's exciting. Dancing, nightclubbing with a different doll every night. But there comes a time when a man wants to give up that kind of life.

Brad Allen: Why?

Jonathan Forbes: Because he wants to create a stable, lasting relationship with one person. Brad, believe me, there is nothing in this world so wonderful, so fulfilling, as coming home to the same woman every night.

Brad Allen: Why?

Jonathan Forbes: Because that's what it means to be adult. A wife, a family, a house. A mature man wants those responsibilities.

Brad Allen: Why?

Jonathan Forbes: Well, if you want to, you can find tricky arguments against anything. I gotta get out of here. What have you got against marriage anyway?

Brad Allen: Jonathan, before a man gets married, he's like a tree in the forest. He stands there independent, an entity unto himself. And then he's chopped down, his branches are cut off, he's stripped of his bark and he's thrown into the river with the rest of the logs. Then this tree is taken to the mill. And when it comes out, it's no longer a tree. It's the vanity table, the breakfast nook, the baby crib, and the newspaper that lines the family garbage can.

Alma: 6 foot 6 inches of opportunity doesn't come every day.

Alma: Takes only one sip of wine to tell if it's a good bottle.

Jan: That Brad Allen - ugh! He's just like a spider... and he expects me to redecorate his web!