"Hello."

"Deb, hey. It's Carl."

"Jesus, it's Grand Central fuckin' station here tonight."

"What?"

"...Never mind. How are you?"

"Partly stormy with a chance for snow. Look, are you going to the show tonight?"

Sigh. "I don't know, Carl, I really don't. Why, you going?"

"I was thinking about it. I really like Creamed Corn, and the magazine wants to do an article on them and tonight's show would be a good one to review. I don't know. I'm having some reservations."

"Barb?"

"Yeah, Barb."

"What's going on with that?"

Sigh. "I don't know. It's starting to get a little dangerous. We keep saying we're not going to sleep with each other any more and then we... do. I don't know how it happens."

"What, you go into a religious trance and next thing you know your pants are off?"

"It's choice, Deb, obviously it is, I'm not denying that. It's just... I'm starting to feel some emotional feelings there, you know?"

"Oh."

"I'm starting to feel pretty strongly about her and I think, I'm not sure but I think she's starting to feel that way back to me. And we don't know what to do about it."

"I see."

"Look, you're friends with her. Does she ever talk to you about me? What does she say?"

"She doesn't really talk to me about you, actually."

"Is she going to the show tonight?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Hmm."

Pause.

"Whaddya think, Deb?"

"Well, whaddya want to do?"

"I want to go to the show. But I don't want a scene."

"Afraid of slipping into another religious trance?"

"Ha-ha."

"Look, you're an adult. She's an adult. Maybe in a perfect world you could both spend an evening in the same large public space without you ending up fucking, you know."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll go."

"Well, okay."

"But you gotta promise to go, okay? I can't do it without you."

"I'll think about it, okay? No promises."

"Fair enough. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, later."

Click.