Recurrences Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
“Don’t I know you?”
Luke turned and looked at the woman to his left. The question
echoed in his mind – “Don’t I know you…” over and over and over again. He
didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t mean much in that moment. Luke had been
sitting at this bar stool long enough to lose track of time. She had that
intangible quality of confidence mixed with sarcasm and humor. He did not
recognize her, but he did indeed want her to sit down.
“I guess that depends on whether or not that’s a pick up line.”
“Was that?”
“I... don’t know?”
There were too many drinks making their way through his system. He
really wasn’t on top of things or in any position to flirt. But she sat down
anyway, so apparently he was doing something well enough.
“You should figure that out. Seems like that’s something you
should know.”
“I’ll let you know. Sit and
have a drink with me and let me try to come up with some sort of pick up line.”
“One. But that’s it. I’ve had too many tonight waiting for someone
to impress me. A girl can’t wait all night.”
Luke was pretty sure that one drink would lead to more. He had to
be careful though. They had both clearly had far too many drinks already. Too
many and there wouldn’t be much of a night left.
O’Shea’s was little more than a hole-in-the-wall dive bar. It had
a long bar on one wall but was just barely wide enough to fit in a handful of
tables. There was a small stage area by the front door with room enough for two
or maybe three people to squeeze in. It seemed like the bar was an
afterthought. There was hardly any space for it – perhaps at one time it had
been attached to the restaurant it was next to. Perhaps not. Perhaps the owner
of the building was just trying to maximize his rent. Or perhaps the building
had been poorly conceived and strangely designed. Whatever the case, it was a
very small location, with enough room for maybe twenty or thirty patrons if
they were lucky.
Elsie sat at the bar with her friend Tammy. They had been up and
down the street all night. The neighborhood was full of tiny bars and
restaurants, and there had been several different bands playing at different
points in the night. They had high hopes for their Saturday night, but as it
was turning out, it was just long and full of too many drinks.
“Hey,” came a voice from behind them, “It’s you again.”
Elsie turned to see who was behind her. It was a short man with an
even shorter friend. They were average in just about every way she could think
of – plain faces, plain clothes, short hair – everything was pretty
nondescript. They could have been just about any other guy in the bar.
“Yeah I don’t know you.”
“We met earlier. At The Brother’s Brew Pub.”
She squinted her eyes but his face didn’t clear up at all. He was
a blur and she had had more than enough to drink.
“I don’t think so.”
“We played shuffle board—“
“Yes!” Shuffle board. She remembered that. She couldn’t exactly
tell by looking at him that this was the guy that she had played shuffle board
with, but it did seem highly probably that it had occurred. “I totally kicked
your ass at shuffle board.”
“I wouldn’t say kicked—“
“I did. Totally. I remember that. You were kinda funny.”
“Thanks?”
“Sit down and buy me a drink. What are you doing here? Are you
following me?”
He sat down and motioned to the bartender.
“Yes. I was following you,” he answered sarcastically. “We were
totally following you. That was our goal for the night.”
“It’s a good goal. But I’ll tell you now that I’m not going home
with you.”
“Why would you even say that? Did I ask for that?”
“No, but you will. At some point you will. And I figure I should
get that out of the way early.”
“I think you already told me that.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. Earlier.”
“At… the other place.”
“Yeah. There. And at The Last Shot, and at—“
“Oh my God – how many times have we met?”
“I don’t know. A lot.”
“And I’m not going home with you.”
“Apparently not. But I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You should. I’m a woman of my word. Tonight is not the night for
that. I mean, I’m not going to get into my past or your past, but tonight is
not the night.”
Elsie suddenly realized she there were two other people there with
them, listening to all of this. She had lost track of her friend and his friend
and had only been looking at his face, trying to remember him from before and
why she had turned him down so many times.
“Who’s… this guy?” she finally asked, pointing at his friend but
accidently poking into him. He pulled back and looked annoyed. Apparently
sloppy drunkenness was not all that attractive to him.
“This is Ethan. Ethan, this is… ah…”
He stopped and looked at Elsie and her friend. He paused for far
too long a moment. Elsie would have reacted faster, but she was quite drunk
herself.
“You don’t know my name. I’m really not going home with you now.”
“I thought we already established you weren’t.”
“Don’t change the subject. You don’t know my name.”
“What’s mine?”
“That’s not the point, mister. You’re talking about all the places
we’ve been tonight and how many times you’ve hit on me and failed and you don’t
even know my name.”
“I don’t think I hit on you that many times. You’ve been talking
to me a lot tonight. A lot.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Whatever. You’re not going home with me anyway.”
He and his friend started to leave.
“Don’t be so mad. God. Come back and have a drink with us.”
They stopped, but still didn’t look happy.
“I’m Elsie. This is Tammy. And you are—“
“Luke. And this is Ethan.”
“Grrrreat! Now order me a drink and tell me why you keep hitting
on me.”
Ethan hated waiting in line. There was always a line at La Torta.
It was arguable whether or not it was ever worth the wait. But when the bars
had closed and he was drunk like a skunk, Ethan really had a thing for late
night greasy food. La Torta offered all sorts of excellent late night food.
Ethan had ordered something. He couldn’t really remember what he ordered. He
wasn’t really hungry. And he was tired of waiting. Maybe he should just leave.
He looked over at Luke who was sitting in a booth with his head
down between his knees. Maybe Luke had passed out. He couldn’t tell. He hoped
that was it. He hoped Luke hadn’t thrown up or was going to throw up or
anything awful like that. Hopefully he was just passed out. But if he had, then
Ethan wasn’t really sure how he was going to get Luke home. They had a long
walk ahead of them and he wasn’t going to be carrying anyone any time soon.
“Heeeey!” some woman yelled as she walked in the door.
Ethan realized it was directed at him.
It was… what was her name again? He couldn’t quite remember. Elise
or Lisa or something like that. Ethan was barely on his feet and he couldn’t
exactly remember her or her friend.
“Hey. It’s you. You again. I know you. You’re that guy from the
bar.”
Obviously she wasn’t doing too well herself.
“Yeah that’s me alright…” Ethan motioned at Luke, as if to remind
her that there were two of them.
“Is he alright?”
“Yeah I think so. He’s fine. He’ll be fine when the food gets
here.”
“Oh… what’d you order? I’m going to order something. Don’t they
have a pulled pork sandwich or something like that?”
“Something.”
“Great, order me that,” she said while sitting down at the same
booth as Luke.
Ethan was not happy about having to get back in line. He was not
happy about overly loud and obnoxiously drunk women. He was not happy about
having struck out all night long.
But he ordered the sandwich.
He kept looking over at the table. Eloise and her friend were
chatting about something and Luke wasn’t moving at all. None of them seemed
aware that Ethan was in line getting them something to eat. None of them seemed
to remember that he was a different person than his friend. Ethan was pretty
sure that the night was going to get a lot worse before it got better.
Luke woke up after being poked by the cashier at La Torta.
“Go home. You can’t sleep here. You need a cab?” asked the
cashier.
Luke wasn’t sure where he was. He didn’t remember anything from
the last several hours. He certainly didn’t remember coming into this
restaurant. He did remember that he had been out with his friend though. He
wondered where Ethan was.
There were three barely eaten sandwiches on the table.
“What happened? Was I with someone?”
“Your friends left without you.”
Luke still wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t remember being out
with a group. He couldn’t imagine why they had left him here.
“Friends?”
“Guy and two girls.”
That meant something to Luke. He remembered something about two
girls. He just couldn’t remember a lot.
“You didn’t get their names did you?”
The cashier just stared at him.
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