"Ring. RING."

There's a scene in the totally awesome movie Staying Alive (is too!) where John Travolta is waiting to hear about a show he's auditioned for. He paces pack and forth in front of his apartment building's only phone, in the lobby. Tight black T-shirt, slim-hipped dancer's pace, thuggish strut, skeptical blanket-clad extras watching him from ratty armchairs. Each time he passes the phone he glares at it in that non-ironic 80's way, and says, "Ring. Ring."

Pace out, pace back, glare. "Ring. Ring!"

I have queries out to agents.

Ring. Ring!