The Lisa Diaries

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The Lisa Diaries by Lisa Carver  

The Rare, Wild Thing

February 25, 1999

I feel like there are ghostly choirs lining the streets, singing, “TOR,
GLORIOUS TOR!” People speak of her beauty reverently, carefully, as if
speaking of the newly dead, and I’m tired of it! Apparently she’s an utter
recluse — watching black and white movies all night long. Those who claim
to know her aren’t really her friends — they just sight her sometimes,
like whale watchers glimpsing a rare humpback. Apparently Dave’s the only
one who’s succeeded in spending an hour with her — but she doesn’t make it easy,
standing him up nine times out of ten. He’s never even gotten to third base
with her, and this is after “seeing” her for eight months. On occasion, Tor lets
him kiss her, but she doesn’t kiss back. “I know she’s crazy,” he said to me.
“It’s just that I’ve thought about it for so long now, I have to see what it’s
like to have sex with her. Just once.”


I’d never seen Tor for myself until last night. We were drinking
kamikazes downstairs at The Middle East. I was feeling rowdy,
talking to everyone, and I didn’t even notice the blond who’d quietly seated
herself opposite Dave and me. “Uh, Lisa,” Dave whispered in my ear, “that’s
Tor.” I literally saw a red haze. I didn’t know people really saw red hazes, but
that’s what I saw. I couldn’t see what she looked like, due to this red haze,
but I whispered to Dave, “Oh, she’s not so pretty! She looks like a toad!” “She
looks exactly like Uma Thurman!” Dave whispered back. “Exactly,” I replied,
“and Uma Thurman looks like a toad too!” I asked him if she still had power
over him. He said a little. It felt like an X-acto knife in my belly. I’d had
enough of competing with this mythical creature. Here she was, at last, in the
flesh, and I meant to take advantage of it. I got up from Dave’s side and sat
very close to her. I took one of her french fries and put it in my mouth. Then
I said, “So you’re Tor. I’m a Scorpio too, so I know every trick you could ever
try. Let’s get this over with. Give me the best you got.” She said, “I don’t
know what you’re talking about.” I said, “That’s your best? To play dumb?”
The whole place was quiet by now. Dave blushed and slunk down in his seat.
“Well, so that’s it?” I went on. “There’s nothing here for me, then.” I got up
to leave, everyone watched me. I felt like Captain Ahab. I’d seen the rare, wild
thing, and I’d speared it.

Lisa Carver and