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MAKING IT HUGE IN VIDEO GAMES
Memoirs of Composer Chance Thomas
Chapter 10 - Sneak Peek Excerpt
As it turned out, Pamela was sincere, friendly, and gorgeous. I had just finished speaking at a Wednesday night singles activity and was leaving the chapel when she called out to me. She had a welcoming smile and vibrant presence. After a brief and cordial exchange, I continued out of the chapel towards the basketball court where a few friends were waiting to shoot some hoops.
We’d only spoken for a moment, but I kept thinking about Pamela. She had flashed a perfect smile at me, brilliant white, framed inside beautifully curved lips, radiant pink and just full enough. Silky blonde tresses curled up at her shoulders, framing high cheeks and bottomless blue eyes, the kind that could sink a thousand ships filled with lesser men. There was something else too, something about her presence, a sparkle, a radiance, a genuine goodness that worked on my mind.
My thoughts were interrupted by another basketball player, Bill Wolfe. “Hey, I saw you talking with Pamela. I’ve gone out with her a couple of times." I stiffened, wondering if I had violated some provision of the bro code.
But then his words took a wildly unexpected turn. "Do you want her phone number?”
“Um, sure,” I stammered. I thought it was unusual for a twenty-something man to offer an eligible woman’s phone number to a competitor. But I wasn’t going to turn him down. As my future friend and videographer John Pratt would later crystalize into a memorable sound bite, “When someone offers you something of value, take it." I took Pamela’s number from Bill and thrust it deep into my pocket. I looked forward to giving her a call at some point, assuming I could muster the courage.
She beat me to the punch. Three days afterwards, late Saturday morning, my phone rang. It was Pamela. She had recently returned from a mission, 18 months of dedicated service on the emerald isle of Ireland. She was anxious to share perspectives, to talk with someone who might relate to the transition of returning from a mission to normal life in Oklahoma. I was happy she’d called, and shared my thoughts as I listened to hers.
After we’d been on the phone for a while, she asked if I would be interested in meeting her for lunch. An old friend had already invited me to hit the local all-you-can-eat pizza buffet, so I had to decline. In fact, I needed to leave soon to join him. Perhaps another time?
Definitely another time.