Page 4 of Off Script
“Believe me, I’m trying.” Over the course of our conversation, the fighting spirit has drained out of me. I lean forward and rest my forehead against the seat in front of me, staring down at my shoes. “I can’t afford to quit until I have another job lined up, so I spend my free time scouring the help wanted ads. Unfortunately, each company wants someone with more work experience than I have,” I respond glumly, my latest rejection fresh in my mind.
“I’m sorry.” There’s a brief pause and I assume we’re about to hang up when he surprises me and inquires, “Can we quickly revisit the whole Staples King/Staples Center mix-up you mentioned earlier? How does one so well-versed in polysyllabic words make that kind of error?”
“Ah, rude! I can hear the amusement in your voice!” My umbrage doesn’t pack much oomph though as I chuckle and take a moment to figure out the best way to summarize my situation without spillingallthe family tea. “My dad and I don't have a great relationship. After my college graduation, he gave me a new car, and then announced that he was cutting me off financially. Effective immediately. Naturally, I did what anyone would do.”
“You got mad and wanted to prove him wrong?”
“Pretty much. My best friend, Harper, and I got really drunk, and I applied for every available job in LA. Harper already had a job lined up here and moving far away from my dad seemed like a wonderful idea—especially after four glasses of wine. I spotted the Staples King job posting. I got excited, made a few hasty assumptions, applied without reading all the fine print, and then accepted the job offer the next morning while I was definitely hungover and quite possibly still drunk.”
“I have to be honest. I don’t understand how you confused the two.”
“The LA Kings play at the Staples Center. Staples Center. LA Kings. Voila, Staples King.” I pause. “The details are hazy, but it made sense to my alcohol addled brain. Honestly, I was so relieved that I had a job offer that I didn't even care where I was going to be working so long as I had a guaranteed paycheck.”
“You said your dad gave you a car. If you have a car, why are you riding the bus?”
A giggle bubbles up in my throat. “I tell you all that and that’s your question?”
“I have a lot of questions. This is just the first of many, Carlisle.”
“My dad gave me a five-series BMW sedan, which costs a fortune to fill up because it requires premium gas. Do you know how much gas I’d waste idling in LA traffic? And don’t even get me started on the costs to maintain and insure that thing. I literally can’t afford to drive it.”
"That's still a nice graduation present though."
If I didn't know my dad as well as I do, I'd agree. Maybe I'm cynical, but I'm sure there was something in it for him, like a tax break or the car was a lemon that he couldn't sell.
"My dad owns several car dealerships, so while it was a nice present, I think you're giving him too much credit," I explain reluctantly.
"Couldn't you sell it? Or trade it in for something more economical?"
"Not easily," I huff. "The car title is in my dad's name."
"So, you can't sell it without your dad's permission."
"Bingo, buddy. And I'm too proud to admit that I'm struggling."
Struggling. Ha! That's putting it mildly.
But I guess that's one way to describe barely making ends meet, being cut off from my remaining family, and feeling lonely as shit.
2
Carlisle
When the bus pulls up to my stop, I loop my bag over my shoulder and scoot down the aisle of the crowded bus. To my surprise, my mystery caller and I continue talking as I make the short walk home.
And even more surprising, I enjoy our conversation. Spilling my guts to a total stranger feels therapeutic.
And since I can't afford therapy, I'll take what I can get.
When I arrive at my condo, I unlock the door and drop my bag onto the bench in the tiny entryway. Kicking off my sandals, I plop onto the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table.
“Thanks to you, I need to find a new bus route now since everyone thinks I’m some sort of sex worker.”
“Come on," he chides teasingly. "Admit that this has been your favorite bus ride.”
“As much as it pains me to say, it was the best ride I’ve ever had. But I’m feeling a little naked here since you know my whole life story and I don’t even know your name.”
Oh no.
