Good, she's laughing. He gets the feeling (from his own experience) that she hasn't been doing that often enough.

"I think she thought I wasn't interested initially," he said. "But when my hearing didn't clear up at all in a couple days, and they were bugging me to come in for a debrief, I had to own up, and they sent me to medical, and she found me there getting tested for my hearing aids. We were in one of those windowed exam rooms, so she got a notepad to hold against the window from the hallway and asked me out that way."

He smiles, to himself, thinking of her face - exasperated but fond, like they'd been friends for years. She'd been gorgeous before, but he's pretty sure that was the moment he fell in love with her. An agent - a highly skilled hardass of an agent - standing in the hallway with a sharpie and a pad of paper, asking him out through the window, smiling like she knew everything about him and loved him anyway. It's a memory straight out of, like, Love, Actually or something, and he treasures it.

"I said sure, once I got out with my aids calibrated and could actually hold a conversation, and 5 days later we got married in Vegas."

And that would be the reason this story exasperated Forrest.