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Saturday, February 11, 2017

THE TELEPHONE NUMBER - Happy Valentine's Day!


FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM. APARTMENT - NIGHT

MIKE frantically fingers the contents of his wallet.

MIKE
Where is that business card?

He holds his wallet upside down, watching the waterfall of its contents cascade to his unmade bed.

MIKE
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.

MIKE
Think, Mike. Think.

He closes his eyes and concentrates. The first three numbers lept before him as he'd studied her telephone number countless times. But the last four...as a child repeats the alphabet to reach an elusive letter, so he tried with numbers.

MIKE
One, two, three... Three!

Scrambling for a notepad, he proceeds until seven digits stared back at him; the telephone number he could swear he'd had all along. His digital clock blares eleven o'clock.

MIKE
It's pretty late.
(pumping himself)
It's now or never!

As he dials, he visualizes the tall, slender blonde in her slinky, red dress, flirting over a martini.

MIKE
But I'm not in her league.

While the phone rings, he reminds himself that he wasn't half bad looking, and women even commented on how his glasses made him look just as adorable as Clark Kent.

MIKE
Just as clumsy, too.

A woman answers the phone.

WOMAN (OFFSCREEN)
Hello?

MIKE
Hello? Danielle?

DANIELLE (OS)
Yes?

MIKE
Um. This is Mike. You may not remember...

DANIELLE (OS)
(surprised)
I didn't think you'd ever call, Mike.

MIKE
(spirits soaring)
Would you like to go out for dinner?
You would? I mean, Saturday? Seven thirty?
Sure, I know where it is. Terrific! See you
then. Good night, Danielle.

He dances victoriously around the bedroom, then collapses onto his bed, soon falling asleep.

SEVERAL DAYS 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 young woman.

DANIELLE
(adjusting her glasses)
Mike?

MIKE
(mimics her)
Danielle?

While the excitement and anticipation hisses from his ego, Danielle grins.

DANIELLE
Seems there's been a little mistake.

Her embracing smile emphasizes her gentleness and sweet face.

DANIELLE
It doesn't mean we can't make the best of it.
What do you think?

MIKE
(grins sheepishly)
Sure.

After ordering, then pouring the wine, he slowly shares what had happened. Danielle's LAUGHTER, both comforting and lilting, eases his self-consciousness. The hours fly by. When they realize they're the last couple in the restaurant, they exchange warm glances.

MIKE
I'd love to see you again.

DANIELLE
I would too, Mike, but under one condition.

MIKE
What's that?

DANIELLE
(holding his hands)
You give me your telephone number.

MIKE
(chuckles)
Agreed.

INT./EXT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

As they walk into the crisp spring night, DANIELLE's tresses bounce in sync with Mike's newfound spring in his step.

MIKE
(to himself, glancing at the stars)
Am I glad I lost that business card!

FADE TO BLACK

**written by petra michelle (2/16/08)**

http://petramichelle.blogspot.com/




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