Casablanca: Of All The Gin Joints

And to think two guys born right near me on Market Street wrote this!
SAM: Yeah, boss?

RICK: Sam, if it's December 1941 in Casablanca, what time is it in New York?

SAM: Uh, my watch stopped.

RICK: I bet they're asleep in New York. I'll bet they're asleep all over America.

Suddenly he pounds the table and buries his head in his arms. Then he raises his head, trying to regain control.

RICK: Of all the ginjoints in all the towns in all the wold, she walks into mine. He holds his head in his hands.

RICK: What's that you're playing?

SAM: Just a little of my own.

RICK: Well. stop it. You know what I want to hear.

SAM: No, I don't.

RICK: You played it for her and you can play it for me.

SAM: Well, I don't think I can remember it.

RICK: If she can stand it, I can. Play it!

Sam: Yes, boss.