Late, we decided to part
but not before exchanging basic information.
After providing me the eleven digits
she watched me put the information
onto my offsite memory receptacle.
Then I dialed her number
as she wondered what game I was playing.

“Why isn’t it ringing?”
she asked, quizzically staring at her phone.
I had no answer,
just a growing concern
that I had mistyped her data,
mistyped her number,
misunderstood the dynamic
at which we both played.

I glanced at my phone
to check just what
I was calling
only to see that the time
was one forty two
in the morning.
I was calling some number
at this ungodly hour
and prayed to that very nonexistent deity
that a stranger would not pick up.

I found myself
unable to breathe
as I checked the number
fearing the wrath of the furious cop
whom I had just awoken
after a three-day stakeout.
The imagined officer
would know of star sixty nine
and find me
and explaining that I had misdialed the cute girl’s number
would not in any way save me.

But the call was simply delayed
and her phone rang
and I hung up
before so picked up
and we had successfully discovered
each other’s personal information.

What else we would discover
remained to be seen
until some future point.