Phone Booth

Give me operator!

What?

Yeah, that's right.

There are an estimated 8 million people

in the 5 boroughs of New York.

12 million in the greater metropolitan area.

There are almost 10 million telephone exchange lines.

Over 50 phone services.

3 million New Yorkers are cell phone users.

It used to be a mark of insanity

to see people talk to themselves.

Now it's a mark of status.

And speed dial

is quickly replacing the drop of a coin.

Despite increased usage of cellular devices,

an estimated 4 1/2 million residents

and 2 million visitors

still utilize pay phones on a regular basis.

This is the telephone booth

at 53rd and 8th,

perhaps the last vestige of privacy

on Manhattan's West Side.

It is the last booth of its type

still in regular operation.

Up to 300 calls daily originate here.

This location has been burglarized 41 times

in the last 6 months.

Verizon has scheduled this structure

to be torn down and replaced with a kiosk

as of 8 A.M. tomorrow.

Hardly 2 blocks away,

meet the man who is to be the final occupant

of that booth.

Donny. Donny, Donny, listen to me.

I said I'd get you magazine coverage,

and I'm getting you in a magazine.

Look, you gotta trust me.

No means yes to these people.

Get What's up? Magazine on the line.

Yeah, I heard you. Yeah, Donny,

I got What's up? Magazine on the other line.

They want to know about you, so I'm hanging up.

This is Erica or Lars. I can't tell the difference.

You got Stu. We said no.

And I didn't hear you,

so I'm giving you a second chance.

We don't do magicians.

Magicians? Donny G. Is an artist

who happens to look like a supermodel.

The new guys is offering him the cover.

New guys wants him?

And I haven't told my client--

my favorite client--

that I am making this call, all right?

He wants new guys.

I want you guys.

And I can make him come around,

but you're gonna lose us

if I don't hear from you by end of business.

Get Ricky at new guys.

Tell him what's up? Is offering a cover.

Ok. Big Q.

Adam. Adam.

I know 3 people looking for dog walkers.

That could be you.

"Sit. Stay. Don't worry, Fluffy.

I'll clean up your shit and wipe your ass."

You got Stu.

Yeah, what's up with my party, Stu?

Yo, Q, I was just telling my assistant

to get my favorite client on the phone

and here you are. Nice.

But, uh...

But listen. Seriously, Q, we gotta look

at a new night for your release party.

Yeah, there's 2 premieres, a fund raiser.

All the happening places are booked.

If we move the date by 2 nights--

voodoo on you-do, motherfucker,

from Big Q to big Stu!

All right, Big Q, be reasonable.

Motherfucker, I'm a gangsta!

I don't gotta be reasonable!

I don't gotta be reasonable!

You're cutting out. Hello? Big Q?

I'll kill your ass you keep talking about me like that!

Right?

N.Y.P.D. Blue, 11 o'clock.

Stuey, the hardest working P.R. Guy.

How's business?

How many times I have to tell you, Wyatt?

I'm a publicist. Tickets.

Tickets.

4 for Britney Spears, right?

You know, you put the "ho" in show business, Stuey?

It's Stu. What you got for me?

Uh, they just checked Mrs...Uh...

Mrs. Sharp into Bellevue again.

Page 6.

Tell Britney I send my love.

Enjoy the show.

Hold on a second.

Page 6. This is Lana.

Ah-choo!

Bless you. Lana, it's Stu Shepard.

Ah-choo! Bless you.

Is it you or your boss calling?

It's me. Listen, I'm looking

for some mutual back scratching.

You get my privileged N.Y.P.D. Blue info,

and I get you to save my ass.

Not now, Stu. I'm a sick woman.

Well, this is gonna make you feel better.

Tony award-winning producer Jeffrey Sharp

tossed his wife back into drug rehab today.

How nice.

What do you want for that little tidbit?

Well, you better be nice to me while I'm still on the way up

and taking your calls.

You know what they say,

the higher the monkey climbs,

the more you see of his ass.

Oh, have a heart, Lana.

Listen, earlier today, my half-wit assistant

faxed you regarding my favorite client.

Great singer about to turn great actress.

Oh, another little miss tits and ass?

Look, I'm on cell. No names.

That was strictly in-office information.

You didn't print it, did you?

I got it.

All right, well, tell me Richard didn't see it,

and he didn't put it in the column.

Stu something's on the phone,

scared he's gonna lose his job.

His office sent you something by mistake.

He wants it back.

Get lu Ann.

You tell him T.F.B.

Put that at the top of the column.

Yeah. Stu, it ran. Sorry.

Oh, God. No, no.

Yes!

Erica from what's up? Magazine.

They offered Donny g a photo

in "what's hot and happening."

Fuck 'em. Make 'em sweat.

He's on a conference call. He could take a while.

Uh, yeah. Can he call you back?

Ok. All right. Bye.

Pretty smooth, Adam.

Thank you.

Now if you can absorb everything

I'm trying to teach you, focus,

and get a new wardrobe,

you can make it big in public relations.

I got a sense.

Cool, cool, cool, cool.

What's up, T?

How ya doin'?

Mario's.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Not so fast, Stu.

How come you run every time you go past my place, huh?

Because I'm busy, Mario.

Yeah? Yeah?

Well, no more drinks or free meals, OK?

One lousy mention in the post,

you expect to eat for 6 months? No!

Maybe--Mario!

Just maybe I could throw the hippest party

this month your way--

Stu. No, I couldn't.

My clients would kill me.

What? What? What hip party?

It's just Big Q, the hottest new rap star.

There'll be local TV coverage,

9 and 11. 9 and 11.

MTV, B.E.T., VH1.

But I promised other clients, Mario.

People who actually pay me money.

Look, you owe me, Stu.