INT. BEDROOM. APARTMENT - NIGHT
MIKE frantically fingers the contents of his wallet.
Where is that card? I finally have the
courage to call her and I can't find it!
He holds his wallet upside down, watching the waterfall of its contents cascade to his unmade bed.
It was blue!
For the next half hour he inspects each item, discarding the unnecessary. Still, no blue business card. Despondent, he falls onto his bed; the loss of the card summing up his chaotic life.
Think, Mike. Think.
He closes his eyes and concentrates. The first three numbers leap before him as he'd studied her number countless times. But the last four. Just as a child repeats the alphabet to reach that elusive letter, so he tried with numbers.
One, two, three... It's three!
He scrambles for a notepad and proceeds until seven digits stare back at him; the telephone number he swore he had all along. His digital clock blares eleven o'clock.
It's now or never!
As he dials, he visualizes the tall, slender blonde in her red, slinky dress flirting over a Martini.
But I'm not in her league.
As the phone rings, he reminds himself that he wasn't bad looking, and how often he was told the glasses made him look like Clark Kent.
Yeah, just as clumsy, too.
(a woman answers)
Um. This is Mike. You may not remember
me since it's been...
I didn't think you'd ever call.
Would you like to go out for dinner?
You would? I mean, Saturday? Seven thirty?
Sure, I know where it is. See you then, Mary.
Good night, Mary.
Mike dances around his bed, then collapses onto it, grinning.
A WEEK LATER
Mike rushes haphazardly, changing his Hanes underwear at least a dozen times. He would be late if he didn't step up his already frenetic pace.
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Mike follows the maitre d' who escorts him to a cozy table in the dimly lit corner at which sits a lovely, bespectacled woman.
(adjusting her glasses)
As the excitement and anticipation hisses from his ego, Mary grins at him.
This is quite amusing.
As Mike looks at her, sheepishly,
Obviously, there's been a little mistake,
but it doesn't mean we can't make the
best of it. What do you think?
After ordering a round of wine, he shares what had happened. Mary's LAUGHTER is contagious. The hours fly by. When they realize they're the last couple in the restaurant, they exchange awkward silences.
Mary, I'd love to see you again.
So would I, Mike. But under one
You give me your telephone number.
INT./EXT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
As they walk into the brisk night, Mary's hair bounces in sync with Mike's newfound spring in his step.
Am I glad I lost that business card!
FADE TO BLACK
**written by petra michelle**