We Must Remember Lisa
Yesterday evening, while riding the train home and happily playing my 20 year old video game that used to require a full CD to play but now fits snugly on my phone, a couple got on at around the Culver City Station. Or the La Cienega/Jefferson station? Was it Expo/La Brea? I don’t know. They all look the same.
Anyway, this couple boarded and they’ve already tied on one. The car instantly smelled like booze. It was coming out of their pores. But I’m not one to judge. If you want to get crazy before 6PM, that’s none of my business. Get wet and wild. We only have one go-round on this earth. Do you.
The woman sat in the open seat next to me and, after about five minutes of riding, clumsily tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. What’s time is?” she asked.
I pointed to the medieval font clock in the upper-right corner of my game. “6:18.”
“IT’S SIX EIGHTEEN!” she yelled at her male counterpart. He grumbled something and popped a chip from a bag of snacks he had in his hand. Which, I have to admit, is pretty prepared for being wasted on a train before dinner.
Maybe this is my fault for engaging. Maybe I should’ve smelled her breath and known that telling someone the time would only mean more conversation and less mid-90s video game playing. She tapped me again and started on an incoherent but very earnest monologue that involved something called “crucials” (or something similar sounding) and a plea that I remember her.
“My name is Lisa. What’s yours?” “Nick.” “Nick. I’m Lisa.” “Uh-huh.”
She stuck out her hand for a shake. I shook her dead fish grip.
She again started up about how “he” was going to “make [her]” get off at Expo/Western. We’d passed that stop already but I nodded. She frowned.
“You’re not going to remember me.” “No. I will defintely remember you.” “What’s my name?” “Lisa.”
She smiled like I’d just composed her a sonnet. She then pushed under my arm and hooked it with her own. She leaned on my shoulder. It was not okay. I sat there, frozen, not sure if I should throw her off or demonstrate to her boyfriend that this was not my doing or wait out this cry for help.
We stopped at Expo/Vermont and they got off the train. She was still talking to me about “crucials” and remembering her. Also about how her brothers were gay? I don’t know. A lot of it was unintelligible.
They pulled the emergency handle on the way out which meant the train driver had to come back and reset the door. In that time, the couple had come back into the train with the man sitting next to me this time, then standing up next to the seat. I think he was staring at the map above me but it kind of felt like he was actually glaring right through me. I tried not to look. My engagement threshhold had been reached.
They eventually got off at Expo/USC and I was free to gain all the experience points and job points that I’d been putting off while trying to assure Lisa that I would remember her.
+ 20 Endurance + 5 Metro LA Story - 2 Dexterity for fish handshake - 4 Intelligence for betraying the non-engagement policy + 10 Constitution for suriving poison attack