It was a cool and cloudless Saturday evening. Yes, I’m starting this story this way because this is the truth. I’m not lying, unlike my co-worker who fixed me up with Lisa. She was a sweet girl, really. We shared a bowl of edamame. She requested brown rice instead of white to go with her chicken teriyaki. We talked without pause, until I excused myself to give Connor a call.
“How’s everything going buddy?” he asked.
“Everything’s great. Perfect. Peachy,” I said.
“She’s great, isn’t she?”
I said nothing.
“Ah, you know I don’t always get your sarcasm,” he said.
“So what’s wrong with her?”
“With her? Nothing. No problem at all. She’s sweet, we both have an extreme dislike for pears.”
“I’d tell her the same thing I’ve told you. You dislike them because you disliked them as children. If you give them another chance -”
Connor said nothing. I looked down the street and saw a guy dressed in a colonial costume. He stopped at the corner, removed a hat from the sack he was carrying and placed it in front of him.
“What do you mean she’s married?” Connor asked.
“How didn’t you know she was married?”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Really? You believe me?”
“Yeah I do.”
“That’s good. I wonder why she agreed to go out with you-”
“She thinks I can get her a job, that’s why.”
Again Connor said nothing. I looked down and saw the same guy, now wearing a white wig. Only the wig was too large and covered his entire forehead. Performers like him were common downtown. The week before I saw Elmo, only the eyes were unevenly glued on the face and caused a lot of children to cry.
“You told her I had openings in my department,” I said.
“Because you do.”
“Not yet, not until next week. No one’s supposed to know until after our meeting next week.”
“I didn’t know.”
“My own team doesn’t even know yet.”
“You haven’t told your team yet?”
“That’s beside the point. You shouldn’t have told anyone that my department’s getting restructured.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Now I’m worried she might say something.”
“She’s not that type of woman. You’ll be fine, just tell her the truth.”
The man in the colonial costume started shouting at the people who walked passed him.
“How do you know? You just met her at the tech conference last week.”
“Alright, I don’t know, would you rather me tell you that?”
“I should just get back inside,” I said.
“Alright buddy, and you should’ve told your team what’s going on already.”
I hung up my phone and watched the man shout and wave his hands.
“What are you wearing?” he said to the college guys walking by in jeans. “Those carriages seem to be driving themselves,” he said while pointing to the cars driving by.
“What is that device in your hand?” he said. “Yes you, come over here,” he said, pointing to me. I walked over. “I saw you talking into it. Can it hear you? Does it talk back?”
I told him it was called a “Lisa,” after its inventor, Lisa Edamame. After all, why did that guy deserve the truth from me, when I couldn’t give it to my team?