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Writer's pictureKatie Redefer

A night to forget, a short-form fiction story

Recently, I've taken to revisiting stories I wrote while attending college. I stumbled upon this short-form fiction story I wrote for an assignment in Intermediate Fiction Writing and wanted to share it on my blog. The prompt was to write about a person obsessed with eavesdropping and mention a randomly assigned object, which in my case was a gluten-free turkey sub. Enjoy!


Stephanie could feel her cheeks burning red like they always do when Ned was getting on her nerves.


"Can you please not do this right now? Not here?" she begged.


Ned keeps glancing unsubtly over his shoulder at the table loudly chatting behind the couple.


"Steph, I'm sorry, but you've got to get a load of this-"


Stephanie tries to ignore the (admittedly) loud conversation behind them, not wanting to give in to Ned's obscenities. But she did hear the words "gluten-free turkey sub," so a certain cynical part of her wanted to give in.


"I do not want a load of anything. I want us to have a peaceful 25th anniversary together, just us, not whoever you're listening to…" she trailed off, realizing Ned was no longer paying attention to her.


Just when she was ready to start yelling in the middle of a five-star hotel restaurant, the waiter appeared, fingering the leather menus nervously.


"Ready for drinks? Can I start you off with some water?"


"Sure…" Ned says, pulling a notebook out of his pocket and intently scribbling.


Stephanie tries not to roll her eyes. "Something strong?"


The waiter begins to probe for more details but can see the couple's attention is already elsewhere. He sighs and walks away. Stephanie tries to snatch the notebook from her husband unsuccessfully.


"Dear, just watch. These people are suckers," Ned stands.


"Ned-"Stephanie hisses, but he has already left the table.


Ned walks to the table a couple of feet behind the couple. At the other table sits two young women adorned with gold earrings and sleek silk dresses. They seem not to notice Ned until he clears his throat.


"Excuse me, ladies," He starts.


The women are visibly unsettled, glittery eyes darting back and forth to one another. "I can't help but notice you are two women of incredible taste."


Ned's eyes have this glimmer to them that charms people, unlike most. He gave his intoxicating look of boyish mischief when he wanted to like he knows he's trouble, but a good kind of trouble. Stephanie often thought if it weren't for his physical charms, he'd probably be in prison by now.


One of the women looks like maybe she's buying it, blushing and focusing her eyes on the table. The other looks, well, pissed.


"Is that so?" the pissed-off-looking woman says.


"Why, yes! I happened to overhear some of your, erm, dietary restrictions and I must say, I know firsthand how challenging that can be to cope with while still keeping your diet as unique and lively as yourself. Well, worry no longer, because I want to help you-"


Ned was pulling out all the stops, but the woman stared blankly, crossing her arms. Ned stopped himself.


"So are you trying to hit on me or sell me something? Because so far, it seems like the latter," the woman snorts. Her friend giggles. Stephanie watches from her seat afar, absolutely relishing in their reaction to Ned's sales pitch.


"I, uh, no," Ned stutters, his eyes bulging in shock; if one thing about Ned is true, he does not know how to take a hint. "I just wanted to interest you in joining me and a group of like-minded, motivated individuals in selling-"


The second woman cuts Ned off. 


"Ohmygod, you're running a pyramid scheme, aren't you?" Both the women start laughing hysterically like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard as Ned blinks and mumbles in shock. Stephanie smiles to herself.


The women finally stop laughing, and the first woman turns back to Ned.


"Please, for the love of god, leave us alone. Or we're telling the waiter you're harassing us."


Then, right on time, the waiter appears, holding Ned's water and Stephanie's drink, looking exhausted by a conflict he is certainly not paid enough to handle.


"Is there a problem here, ladies?" The waiter asks.


Stephanie finally stands to collect her husband, walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder.


"No problem here, sir. He was just sitting back down," Stephanie sighs, escorting her husband back to their table.


The waiter sets down their drinks and gives them a moment to look over the menu. Stephanie takes a long drink from her glass, then sighs.


"Dear, now would you please sit down, shut the fuck up, and order us a steak?"

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