Bare for en ordens skyld,.
Jeg arbejdede på det.
Jeg var i zonen...
...og jeg kunne have fået
hendes nummer...
...hvis du ikke havde vendt denne aften...
...om til en guidet tur
af Louvre.
Mine undskyldninger.
Lad os får
en ting på det rene.
Patrice, hun synes,
at du var sød...
...formentlig bøsse og sød.
Og sød, Leo,
det er dødens kys.
- Måske.
- Måske? Sikkert.
Jeg tror, at det her er hendes nummer.
Som jeg ser det, har Patrice ikke
en anelse om din hengivenhed.
Og det er ikke noget under.
Du, Charles, er en bajads.
En hvad?
Alting er en farce for dig.
Kvinder reagerer på oprigtighed.
Dette kræver, at man skal
trække tunge væk fra sin kind.
Ingen ønsker at blive romatiseret af en klovn.
Nu, dette nummer ringer til hende.
- Ja.
- Så ring til hende i morgen.
Det kan jeg ikke. Hun gav
nummeret til dig.
Kun fordi jeg fortalte hende
om din hengivenhed.
Hva' hvad sagde du?
Kun at du beundrede hende...
...men at du var tilbageholdende
med at lave en tilnærmelse...

Just for the record,
I was working it.
I was in the zone
and I would have
gotten her number
if you hadn’t turned
the evening
into a guided tour
of the Louvre.
My apologies.
Let’s get
one thing straight.
Patrice, she thought
you were cute--
probably gay and cute.
And cute, Leo,
that’s the kiss of death.
-Perhaps.
-Perhaps? Certainly.
I believe this is her number.
As I see it, Patrice has not
an inkling of your affections.
And it’s no wonder.
You, Charles,
are a merry-andrew.
A what?
Everything plays a farce to you.
Women respond to sincerity.
This requires pulling one’s
tongue from one’s cheek.
No one wants to be
romanced by a buffoon.
Now, that number rings her.
-Yes.
-So ring her tomorrow.
I can’t. She gave
the number to you.
Only because I told her
of your affections.
Wha-What did you say?
Merely that you admired her
but you were hesitant
to make an overture