The telephone went on ringing. She didn't seem to be distracted at all by the noise, but Barry was. He crossed and uncrossed his legs. He tried to keep his eyes off the back of her head. He carved a little poem into the Styrofoam cup. The telephone rang on. He began to bite the edge of the cup.
  "If it bothers you so much, why don't you answer it?" she asked, not looking at him.
  He pulled the phone off her head, half-expecting her brain to fall out.
  "Hello," he said into the phone.
  "Hello?"
  "Who's this? Is Vanity there?"
  "What are you kidding? This is LA," Barry replied giddy with fear.