"Hey fellas, I think she's here," Peter said.
"Well get the door. You're right there," Mike said.
"Oh yeah, get the door, of course," Peter said as he opened the door.
"Hi Peter, it's good to see you again," Julie said with a smile.
"It's good to see you too. You look very nice," Peter commented.
"Thanks. I just got out of church. My daddy's a preacher you know," Julie said.
"No, I didn't know," Peter said intrigued at this new bit of knowledge.
"Well, she came dressed up," Micky said as he slid down the banister.
"I just came from church," Julie told him.
"Why don't you wear a mini? A long skirt is so, well, long," Davy told her.
"My daddy would have a fit if I wore a mini-skirt. He doesn't think it's proper," Julie explained to him.
"He's a minister you know," Peter stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
"No, we didn't," the other three Monkees exclaimed.
"Well, let's get started," Mike suggested, and then noticed something different about Julie, "Hey, your hair is down. Do you always wear it down?"
"No, it's usually pulled back. It's too thin and stringy to leave it down all day," Julie said.
"Anyway, you'll notice that I have a set table. I'm going to play your waiter and Peter is going to play your date. You'll learn two things. One: how to act at dinner, two: what to expect from your date at dinner," Mike explained.
"Wow, this will be fun, kind of like a game," Peter said with a wide grin.
"Um yeah, right. Anyway, Micky I need you to play the maitre'd," Mike said.
"Yay, I get to be the maitre'd! Um, what's a maitre'd?" Micky asked.
"That's the host," Mike said.
"Yay, I get to be the host!" Micky cheered.
"Hey! I want to do something! I feel left out," Davy said with a pout.
"Alright, you can sing to them," Mike said.
"Can I sing 'I'm Gonna Buy Me a Dog?'" Davy asked.
"No! Sing something nice and soft. Everyone quit goofing around. We got work to do. Ok, Peter and Julie, go stand by the front door and pretend you're going into a restaurant," Mike instructed.
"Um Mike?" Peter said.
"Yes Pete," Mike answered.
"What kind of restaurant is it?" Peter asked.
"I don't know! Anything you want, it doesn't matter," Mike said, rolling his eyes.
"Julie, do you like Italian?" Peter asked.
"Yes I do," Julie replied.
"Italian it is," Peter said.
"Fine, let's just get started. Micky, stand by the couch and pretend to be the host," Mike said.
"Yes sir," Micky said with a salute.
"Ok Pete, offer your arm to Julie before you start walking," Mike said. Peter held his arm straight out.
"No, no, you have to bend your arm like this, see?" Mike said as he positioned Peter's arm. "That way Julie can place her hand in the crook of the elbow."
"Oh ok," Peter said with a smile. Julie then took his arm and they both walked over to where Micky was.
"Good-a evening. Welcome to-ha Michelangelo's. Party of-a two tonight-a?" Micky said in his best Italian accent.
Julie giggled so hard, she had to wipe tears from her eyes.
"Yes, there are two," Peter said with a smile.
"Right-a this-a way please," Micky said as he led the two to the kitchen table.
"Ok now, don't sit down yet Julie. A decent boy will pull the chair out for you," Mike said.
As if on cue, Peter walked to one of the seats and pulled it away from the table. Julie flopped down in the seat and stretched her legs out.
"Ok, let's try that again. This time, keep your back straight, legs together, and bend your knees until you're sitting," Mike said.
"I'm sorry Mike," Julie said sincerely.
"It's ok, just try again," Mike said.
Julie tried again and eased herself into the chair. Peter gently pushed her chair in.
"Terrific, that went very smooth," Mike complimented.
"Thank you Mike," Peter said.
"Welcome to-ha Michelangelo's. May I-ya take-ah your order?" Mike asked in a very poor Italian accent.
Julie laughed so hard that she had to wipe her eyes again.
"I want spaghetti," Peter said.
"Me too," Julie replied. Mike came back with two plated that had a piece of toast on them.
"Hey, this isn't spaghetti," Peter whined.
"We're out of spaghetti, and it's only pretend," Mike reminded him and then continued, "Ok, what's next Julie?"
"You say grace," Julie replied.
"Ok, but what comes after that?" Mike asked.
"You eat," Julie said.
"I think it has something to do with you're napkin," Davy said, knowing what Mike was getting at.
So Julie and Peter both took their napkins and tucked them into their shirt collars. Mike came by, pulled the napkins out, and began to correct them.
"No, they go in your laps," Mike said as he placed the napkins in their laps.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Julie apologized.
"It's ok," Mike said, "So, now you'll notice there are three forks to the right of you: the salad fork, the dinner fork, and the dessert fork."
"Why are there so many?" Peter asked.
"I don't know. It's just what this book said to do," Mike said as he held up a book called "Miss Manner's Guide to Dinner Parties".
"Hey, we better move this along. I've got a date in an hour," Davy said as he looked at his watch.
"Ok, pretend to eat," Mike said. Peter and Julie both picked up their salad forks, and both wound up dropping them on the floor. At the same time, they reached down to pick up their forks and ended up bumping heads.
"Ow!" They both hollered as they rubbed their heads. They briefly made eye contact and began to chuckle at their clumsy mistake.
Suddenly, Julie felt a fluttering in her heart and a tingle in her spine that she had never felt before. She looked at Peter and noticed he had almost angelic like eyes and the warmest and sincerest smile she ever saw.
"Oh he won't like me. He just feels sorry for me," Julie thought.
"Ok, let's try the other forks," Mike said.
Peter and Julie both picked up their dinner forks. They pretended to eat as Davy hummed "I Wanna Be Free". Mike was amazed that both Peter and Julie were leaning over their plates and had their elbows resting on the table. First they both dropped their forks, and now this. It was like Julie was a female version of Peter.
"Ok, elbows off the table guys," Mike said.
"Hey Julie, you're awfully quiet. Some dinner conversation makes a nice touch," Davy commented.
"What should I talk about Mike?" Julie asked, looking at her mentor.
"Um, give Peter a compliment. That should get a conversation started," Mike suggested.
"You have really nice eyes Peter," Julie said with a smile as she stared into Peter's eyes.
"The eye contact is a nice touch," Davy said.
Julie or Peter neither one heard him. They were lost in the moment.
"Thank you, you have lovely eyes as well," Peter said.
"I like your smile," Julie said.
"I like yours too," Peter said.
Mike noticed that Julie was no longer paying attention to what was going on. Peter reached across the table and laid a hand on Julie's. Mike was glad that Peter found a girl to like, but he didn't want him to get hurt. What if Julie forgot all about Peter after she went to the prom?
"Ok Julie, I want you to pretend to get a drink of water," Mike instructed. As Julie reached for her glass, she accidentally knocked it over. Water began to spread all over the table.
"Oh no! I knew this would happen," Julie said in an upset tone.
She jumped up and began to wipe the table with her napkin. As she did, she accidentally knocked over Peter's glass too. He jumped up as the cold water hit his pants.
"Oh I'm so sorry. This is hopeless," Julie said in tears.
"It's ok. I'll change and be right back," Peter said as he excused himself to his room.
"I've gotta go. I'm sorry I wasted your time," Julie cried as she fled out the door. Moments later, Peter came out in a different pair of pants. He suddenly noticed that Julie wasn't there.
"Hey, where did Julie go?" Peter asked.
"She went home I guess," Micky said.
"Why?" Peter asked sadly.
"I guess she was embarrassed by what happened, the poor girl," Davy said as he shook his head in sympathy.
"It was an accident," Peter said.
"That don't much matter when you make a fool of yourself in front of someone you're smitten with," Mike said, looking directly at Peter.
"You mean me?" Peter asked in disbelief.
"Yeah you, that chick is hung up on you big time," Mike told him.
"What would she see in someone like me?" Peter thought to himself.