Dwight is lecturing Jim on proper sales call etiquette. It’s the only option, after hearing him refer to a client as, direct quote, ‘man.’
“And if they don’t feel respected, guess what? No sale. And if there’s no sale, guess what? Dunder Mifflin comes crumbling to its knees, and then – guess what? Oh! It’s somebody’s fault. And whose fault would it be?”
“Dwight,” Jim interjects.
“No, not Dwight,” Dwight corrects, panther-fast. Which is almost lightning-fast. “Jim. Jim Halpert.”
“Jim Halpert’s fault.” Definitely lightning-fast this time.
“Dwight,” Jim cuts in impatiently.
“What?” Dwight demands.
“Will you,” Jim asks solemnly, “marry me?”
Dwight stares at him for exactly two point five fifths of a second before answering. “No.”
Jim’s eyebrows furrow. “You sure?”
Dwight narrows his eyes. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No, I really –” Jim lets out a sigh of frustration and runs one tormented hand through his hair. “I dunno, Dwight. I always just thought we had something special.”
Erroneous. “I have a girlfriend.”
Jim shrugs. “You could dump her for me.”
“Impossible.” Dwight shudders to imagine Angela’s reaction to the idea of him leaving her for another male.
“We could move to Massachusetts,” Jim proceeds casually. “Start watching Bravo.”
“Absolutely not,” Dwight says. “It might conflict with the new episodes of Battlestar Galactica.”
“You see, I don’t know if I like Battlestar Galactica,” Jim says, and winces slightly. “It might be too scary for me.”
“Oh, Jim,” Dwight says, and shakes his head at his pitiful cowardice. “They’re only cylons.”
“I know,” Jim says. “I know that. But I just – I kinda get scared. So you’d probably have to hold my hand while we watched it. And – if I get too freaked out, I might need to cuddle.”
Angela never cuddles during Battlestar Galactica. Instead, she rolls her eyes and mumbles disapprovingly under her breath, and sometimes even makes him switch to another channel halfway through.
Dwight studies Jim for a moment, appraising, before reaching the inevitable truth.
“I already told you, Jim,” he concludes gravely. “I cannot marry you.”
“Okay,” Jim says after a moment. He looks pained. Dwight does not feel remorse for causing him emotional torment, however. “I guess I was just hoping that maybe you’d . . . ya know, change your mind.”
No remorse. None.
“What about Karen?” Dwight points out.
A confused frown wrinkles his forehead. “Who?”
“Karen,” Dwight repeats, gnashing his teeth together as he stresses the syllables. “Your girlfriend.”
Jim stares blankly at him for a moment before slamming one hand against his forehead.
“Oh, right!” he exclaims. “I knew I was forgetting something. Hey, thanks for reminding me.”
“You’re welcome,” Dwight says slowly.
“You know, I’d better go talk to her,” Jim continues, casting a glance in Karen’s direction. “Since she’s my girlfriend, and all.”
Crisis averted, Dwight decides as he watches Jim stride over to Karen’s desk.
Still, he might have to catch Jim off-guard with the Gaydar. Just in case.