Original Writing: The Scene at the Club His gaze meets yours across the dance floor. You coldly scan the place as you sip your drink, as if it hadn't been recorded. Aware of his gaze, you laugh heartily at a joke that barely deserved a smile. You look back at that point; is nowhere to be seen. High heels steps are heard behind you, they get louder, they have stopped. Your stomach lurches, either that chicken vindaloo doesn't agree with you, or it's behind you. Exchange pleasant pleasantries. Will be; works in the media. She's beautiful, wait for the guys to see her. You gave her your number, smiled and turned away. The cat gets the cream. Until he asks the question, the dreaded question. You try to explain it, whether you remember it or write it on your hand; useless, he insists. He insists that you put his number in the phone, if it can be called that. You reluctantly take the camera out of your pocket. You needed two hands just to hold it, it was that big not to mention trying to crack the code needed to unlock the damn thing. One look at her phone and she remembers that she forgot to feed "Becks", her goldfish, and he's gone. Quickly stash your phone in your back pocket. You stayed there. In the middle of the club, alone and with the vibrations coming from his back pockets so alarmingly loud that the bouncers arrive and warn that "such behavior is not permitted in this club". Cost of old phone: £200. Cost of entry to nightclub: £20. Cost of maintaining your status, getting the girl and avoiding that later embarrassment: just £79.99. For £79.99 we have the answer to all your problems. It's sexy, slim and size is no object, a phone after your heart, you might say, the new Mokia 6230 is your perfect match. Your new pocket friend is a handy 103mm x 44mm x 20mm or, as we like it, small enough to fit in your pocket, big enough to fit in your pocket.
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