Zebra, that cracked me up. And now the girls are chiming in to pester me. I’m never gonna live this one down!
Id say within two days, me I probably would have called her within hours just to converse.
Declan
Wow…pocket squares…next up, dickeys (mock knit turtlenecks) for men will become popular again. Perhaps I should get out my ascots and dust them off…
I guess I have proven I am not a fashion maven…but congrats on the phone number, and as others have mentioned, CALL!
And if you take her to see a movie, and it is a tear-jerker, you already have half a hankie to hand her!
SCORE! Next step is to determine her geek dimensions and get her an appropriate gift. Is she into anime? Hacking into NORAD? The Whedon Multiverse? Comics? Star Wars? Kicking your ass in Unreal Tournament? Kicking ass alongside you with her dual wielding barbarian/ranger multiclass character? Note that this step will encompass several dates - think of it as a multipart quest.
Soon enough??? You got her number LAST WEEK! What in the world is taking you so long? She’s probably given up on hearing from you by now, and moved on to a guy who knows not to let more than 48 hours go by before calling!
I’m sincerely sorry you took my response in this way. I meant no condescension whatsoever. I only hoped to convey my appreciation for what was obviously a happy moment for you in a world where precious few such moments occur.
Nice!
Kind of a related story… I worked at the Cala Foods deli a few years ago, and I was making a sandwich for this attractive woman. We got to talking a bit, and she said she was new to SF, and she’d just started working at Mel’s, and yada yada yada. I was ringing her up, and she said, “Let me give you my phone number…” Whoa! “… because I forgot my club card at home.”
Oh.
Word. Dating in the SF Bay Area in the 80’s was rough, man…
So call the girl. The absolutely worst that can happen is she’s found you some pocket squares.
OK, forget about her. You sound like fun…call me! 
The best I ever did was once when I was at a bowling alley bar with a friend. We were just minding our own business and noticed a really nice looking blonde girl who was obviously out with her friend, but was massively getting hit upon by every guy in the bar. They were flocked around her like moths to a lamp post. So my friend and I just sat off to the side and continued chatting, not paying all that much attention to her. After about an hour of just sitting there, she gets up and walks over to the bar (right next to us) to order another drink. I strike up a conversation with her and do a couple of magic tricks for her. As she is ordering her drink, she is practically sitting in my lap and not making any attempt to be subtle about it. We continue our conversation for awhile and when it comes time for her and her friend to leave, she asks me for my phone number. Unfortunately, me being the oblivious and unprepared person I was back then, I didn’t have anything to write it down with and didn’t think to ask the bartender for a pen and napkin, so I just looked at her like, “I’m really really sorry.” She smiled, gave me a peck on the cheek and left.
It was probably just as well because a few weeks later, I met my current wife, and all has been wonderful since.
Don’t forget the spats!
Dragwyr:
Finally, a story from a fellow mate! A good one, too. What sort of magic did you perform that night? If it works that well, I’d like to know the trick too, hehe.
Slithy:
Any apologies owed are probably from me. There’s a tendency in threads with topics like this for the first posters to make snarky remarks. I thought you were implying I was making an ass out of myself already, but I was the first to make a snide comment. I rescind it. You are right though, that time will come sooner or later in any relationship. 
A few years ago a friend of mine was in France for the Tour and was in some obscure town along the route when he met some women from Australia who were just there on vacation and had no interest at all in the race. He mentioned that an Australian rider was odds-on favorite to win that particular stage and made fast friends, and they ate and drank and whiled the afternoon away while waiting for the appearance of the peleton. They made plans to meet later that night and my friend…
My friend was “too tired” so he skipped out and went to bed early.
He’s still kicking himself.
DON’T BE LIKE MIKE!
Pocket Squares. check.
Dickie. Check.
Spats. Check.
Do you have your rubbers?
Call her.
Have to agree with this, except maybe for the moving on already part. Call!
So d’ja call her yet? Well?
Umm, updates?
You’re going to let another weekend go by, dateless? The poor girl will have forgotten all about you!
Anamnesis, you alive, bud?