Back Bite

I was heady with ill-fated confidence when I answered her call. I recognized the number as it flashed on my caller ID.

 She was abrupt, and concise. “Who is this?”

“Jon.” I felt the need to embellish. “You know, the guy who remodeled your rear bumper yesterday.”

“Why did you call me?"

Because I wanted a date. “I just called to see if you were okay.” I paused. “Are you?”

Her voice finally softened. “Yes, thanks, I’m fine.”

I began weighing possibilities. Dinner? Too much. Coffee, perhaps. At the little bookstore under my apartment. Cozy but casual. I rallied my reserves.

She interrupted my thoughts. “Hey, listen. Thanks for calling. But I’ve got to go.


“My boyfriend’s on the other line.”