Miss Directions

Lance pulled his collar up against a cold winter breeze as he walked down the lively main street. He was here on short notice. Apparently, Lisa had the worst day of her life—again. She was endearing but exhausting. Sometimes it seemed she had more issues than Sports Illustrated. But being a good friend, Lance had agreed to talk over a few drinks and hear her latest problems.

He entered O’Malley’s Corner Tavern, found a booth, and slid in on the vinyl seat. He sat back and scrolled through the social media feed on his phone to kill some time. Waiting for Lisa was common; she was never on time. Picking up the tab was common too. And he was sure he would be paying tonight, as she had just lost another job—probably for being late.  Meanwhile, he was set on finding something good to order. He looked through the menu trying to decide between his “usual” and one of the daily specials. 

A thin young woman with a ponytail approached his table. “How are you doing tonight?”

“Not bad.”

“I’m Carrie, and I’ll be your server. Can I get you something to drink?”

Lance took a moment to check her out. Boy, she was attractive. "I'll have a Heineken," he said. 

Carrie smiled and had a certain twinkle in her eye, a fresh, confident energy that captured Lance’s attention. “Alone tonight?”

"Actually, I'm waiting for one more."

           Carrie’s face sobered into something more neutral and polite.

           “A friend.”

           The glow of possibility reanimated her face. “I’ll be right back with your Heineken.”

           Lance looked over his shoulder, eyeing Carrie as she walked between the row of booths and tables. She just has a good vibe, he thought, that certain something….

           “Lance! I’m so sorry!”

He snapped out of his reverie as Lisa rushed over to the table in a whirlwind of chaos, hands full with shopping bags, a bulky purse, a cell phone, and a wad of keys and key chains. She kissed her friend on the cheek then breathlessly started to explain herself: “You know, I was out running some errands, taking my sweet time, when I started to wonder if we were really meeting at 5:00 or 6:00. I swear, I thought it was 6:00 but then I re-listened to your voicemail, and I realized it was 5:00. So, I ran to my car and tried to hurry over, but there was crazy traffic, and my GPS rerouted me, you know? And now it’s almost quarter to six, and you waited for me too. I don’t even know why you bother, but you’re such a friend…”

He felt as if a wave had crashed on top of him and sucked him into the undertow. "Wait a minute. Start from the beginning. You left me a voicemail about stolen identity and being thousands in debt—and you lost your job?"

           “My life is a mess! Everything’s a disaster!” Lisa was shoving the shopping bags on her seat toward the wall and packing stray items into her cavernous pocketbook. She attempted a glance at the menu but quickly put it back down.  

Carrie came over to the table. “Miss, are you ready to order?”

“How about a vodka tonic—a double!”

Lance gave Carrie a subtle nod toward the hurricane spinning across from him. "I'll have another.” He leaned forward in his seat, trying to think of where to begin. 

Lisa was tucking wild curls behind her ears, but they seem to keep popping back out of place. Even the unruliness of her hair couldn’t be tamed. Lance always tried to see below the surface and see Lisa for who she was behind all the static. Underneath it all, she had a good heart. He had always tried to both accept her and fix her, but now he was struggling with both endeavors. It seemed that he would help her plug one hole in the dam but then another would pop open and more craziness would leak out. 

Lisa dramatically slumped back in her seat and looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” Lance gripped her hand.  “Take it easy, okay? Why don’t you order something to eat? I’m sure you could use a good meal.”

“How am I supposed to eat when my life is falling apart?” she looked at Lance with an air of desperation. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. I can’t even believe that I got my identity stolen! I don’t know why anyone would want to be me. But maybe it’s a good thing. I think I could use a new identity—a new start.”

Lance felt like he heard this song before. “Seriously, identity theft is nothing to joke about. You need to call the right people and start taking care of this. I heard that there is this service that….”

Lisa’s phone buzzed, and she started texting.

He attempted patience for a minute or two then broke the silence. “I thought you insisted I come here because you wanted to talk?”

“Sorry, just a minute…”

Lance sighed and took a long swig of his Heineken.  “This is part of the problem. Do you realize that? You keep getting into these messes because you’re all over the place. You need to focus.”

Lisa looked up. “I know, you’re right.” Her gaze traveled across the room.

“Lisa!”

“Sorry…”

“Seriously, as your friend, I’m telling you. You need to start with some direction, some organization in your life. Step by step, you have to put things back together in a better way.” Lance listened to the futility of his own words and was starting to wonder why he kept putting himself in this situation with Lisa over and over. He knew on some level that his frustration was his own doing. It was his fault for trying to make her into something she wasn’t, for trying to do the impossible.

Lisa glanced at Lance and nodded. She looked at her phone and squirmed in her seat. “You know, right now, the direction I need to head is towards the ladies’ room.” Lisa rose with a start and slung her giant purse over her shoulder. “Be right back…”

Lance shook his head at both Lisa and himself. He really needed to stop doing this.

Carrie came back to the table with Lisa’s drink. “Where’s your friend?”

“Ladies room—I think.”

“Hmm…” The twinkle came back to Carrie’s eye. “You might want to think again.”

Lance watched Carrie walk across the restaurant toward the kitchen. Along the way, his attention was drawn to the crowded bar area where Lisa was laughing and gesturing with some guy. Guess she found a direction. 

He needed to do the same and start by getting out of here, away from Lisa. Lance started laying bills on the table in anticipation of the check.

Carrie returned a few minutes later and set the check on the table along with a small slip of paper with a phone number. She touched Lance’s arm and winked. “I get off at eight. Meet me later?”

[This story is by "Mickifer" - co-written by Mickey Quinn and Jennifer May]