Six Words Say it All

I'm reading a book on how to write a memoir, and it challenges you to write a story in six words. I've been practicing all week. For the fun of it, I can write one right now. He hung up and I died.

Hopefully, that has your attention, right? Why did he hang up? Who is he? What the heck happened? What did she do? What did he do? Yes, exactly. Questions, questions, questions. Mission accomplished. I wrote a sentence and you filled in the blanks. You started to write your own story. At least I hope so. Well, my job is to tell you a story you want to read. So, I'll give it a try:

"Can you order a salad and send it to me?" I asked meekly and he sighed as though I exasperated him. Why did he intimidate me? Maybe it was his introverted communication style. Or, because he's better at math than me. Who knows, but when he huffs in that authoritatively annoyed way, I crumble.

I was so shaken I shamefully waited for him to lead the conversation so I didn't make a mistake. Or anger him further. It never entered my mind that he shouldn't have called me when he was in such a head space. Nope, I always assume I did something wrong. Love makes you unreasonably vulnerable.

After a few uncomfortable moments, he posed an impossible question. "I can, or..." he paused, which made me more nervous because it carried the weight of a bigger negotiation, "I can bring it to you when I'm finished."

I froze. Didn't I just go out on a limb and ask an important man to do a menial task for me? To order the salad so I could get it before my friends arrived? That was an important step forward for me. To feel comfortable enough to ask for a favor. I never asked him for favors!

His counter offer made me squirm. "Ummm, are you coming this way?" I sputtered. Should I change my plan and make my soon arriving dinner guests wait for him to bring it even though he wasn't invited to the girl's night? I could feel my heart rate pulsating through my veins. I didn't want him to think I didn't want to see him. "That feels like a catch-22."

Insulting expletives flew out of his mouth each one stabbing me in the heart like a sharpened arrow head. I was dead and I knew it. He just splattered my heart all over the place and I knew we were finished. He hung up and I died.