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ZAN: (Smile, wink) You know what? You're kinda cute. I think I'm going to
call you.
HER: You think so, huh? You don't have my number.
ZAN: Why, you're right! Okay, tell me and I will write it down.
HER: [Smiling) Not a good idea. I have a boyfriend.
ZAN: (Pretending to write) Whoa, slow down. I didn't quite catch your
number there. You better repeat it for me. Lets see . . .
555 . . .
HER: (Laughs and rolls her eyes)
The absurdity of this exchange is that there is no way she is going to give me
her phone number in front of a bunch of my friends. No girl would. But her dig-
its are not the goal just yet.
Now she and I have a rapport, in a manner of speaking. And I've made
myself memorable enough that the next night we go there, she'll recognize me.
This way, I can walk up, put my arm around her, and continue with my usual
'You would make a good girlfriend for me" talk. And since everything is said in
a half-joking manner, she doesn't know if I'm really hitting on her or if I'm just
fooling around. So when I return:
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