[Phone rings.]

Sarah: Good morning, Discreet.

Woman: Yeah, is Britches there?

Sarah: I’m sorry… Bridget?

Woman: Uh-huh. She there?

Sarah: No, sorry, we don’t have a Bridget.

Woman: [after a beat] Who?

Sarah: Ma’am?

Woman: Who y’all don’t got?

Sarah: Bridget.

Woman: [Affably] Aww, no, not Bridget, Britches! Britches!

Sarah: Britches? Britches, like pants, britches?

Woman: Yeah! Britches! Britches there?

Sarah: No, sorry.

Woman: Where’d she go?

Sarah: No, no, I mean, I’m sorry, we don’t have a Britches either, you must have the wrong number.

Woman: Oh.

Sarah: Yeah, sorry.

Woman: You got Britches’ phone number?


Sarah: No, I’m afraid not.

Woman: (Softly) Oh.