INT. HER'S APARTMENT
HER is sitting cross-legged on a floor pillow, balancing an overly warm MacBook Air on overly warm knees. Phone rings. She answers. It's her dinner date, announcing his very prompt arrival.
HIM: Hey, I'm here.
HER: Ok cool! Just one sec and I'll be right out.
Silence. Except for her fingers clacking on the keyboard.
HIM: Are you on your computer?
HER: Yesss. Why?
HIM: What could you possibly be doing right now that's more important than fried rice balls?
HER: Um. I'm just registering my Yogurtland card. I'm almost done, though!
HIM: Registering your what?
HER: My Yogurtland card! You know one of those, like, for every 3 purchases, you get one free sort of things.
HIM: Right. And you're registering this because...?
HER: Because they forgot to swipe my card the other day, but the guy said you can go on the site and enter in the order number and they'll credit your account!
HIM: Oh, I'm still here. I'm not really sure why I'm still here, but I'm still...right...here....
HER: We should maybe pretend this conversation never happened, huh.
HIM: Yeah...that's probably a good idea.
Apparently, some things are really hard to forget.