The After Show with Lisa: Thirst for Knowledge

After the show, you head back to your dorm, chatting with Lisa in the cool autumn night.

“Bet you that guy called it a tie because he digs you,” you say, gently ribbing Lisa.

Your sister doesn’t take the joke like you thought she might. She shoots you a withering look. When you look back at her, confused, she crosses her arms.

“You have no business making bets anymore,” she says. “What would you have done if Jack had brought up me instead of Gina?”

{if JackOff == 1} “I would have asked you if you were cool with it first. I checked with Gina before taking on Jack,” you say. “I wouldn’t leave you out to dry. I’m not that kind of person.” {else} “I would have turned him down anyways,” you say. “I’m not that kind of person.” {endif}

“I suppose I have to take your word for it,” she says.

The two of you fall into a silence, an awkward one that you aren’t quite sure how to break. Is the tension in the air from the jokes you just cracked in front of that audience, or from something else?

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she says, and you give her a questioning look. “You were pretty silent the other day too, when we were talking about the new seminar prompt in class.”

“What, the one about the Freshman 15?” you ask. “I… I’m surprised you noticed. I wanted to hear what you girls were thinking first.”

“You got your answer. I’m interested in yours. What do you think about this whole phenomenon?”

You hold the door open as the two of you enter the hall, and you make your way towards the lounge.

“I’m happy the movie came out this year,” you say. “I mean, I don’t know what it’s like around here usually, but I think the movie must have made girls a little more open to the idea of having some fun, and… I’m a red-blooded guy, can you blame me?”

Lisa shakes her head at that, taking a seat opposite you on one of the sofas.

“That’s all you have to offer?” she asks. “You’re really going to write that in your essay? I’m horny and the movie let me get some action. The prof will fail you for that.”

“I was just giving you my honest reaction,” you laugh. “But fine. You want a more substantive answer from me? Here it is. I think the movie is a callback to simpler times. It’s the kind of teen flick that they don’t make anymore. It’s not bogged down by social commentary or political correctness or the crushing weight of the human condition or some hodge-podge dialectical synthesis of all of that. It’s just about guys and girls having fun, simple as that, and that’s… honestly kind of radical. When’s the last time you saw a movie like that?”

The ghost of a smile appears on Lisa’s lips.

“I guess you must be doing some of your readings,” she says. “But I think you’re giving the auteur too much credit. Sex sells. You know it, I know it, the director knows it, the production company knows it, the marketers know it, the actors and actresses know it, and America sure as hell knows it, because we keep buying it up. Is there anything more to the movie than just dudes trying to get laid? No. It’s braindead. But the box office numbers don’t lie, so keep churning it out…”

“That’s my point though,” you say. “Its beauty is in its simplicity. It’s right there on the tin. No disguises about what it’s trying to be. It’s about sex. And fuck me for liking it, right?”

“In many ways, your reaction to the movie is far more telling than the thing itself,” she says. “The movie was always going to exist. But you could have decided to make something more out of it.”

“And you could have tried to dig for more meaning in it too, instead of dismissing it like you did,” you say. “But I think that’s just a matter of taste. There’s a reason I liked it, and you didn’t as much.”

Lisa pauses, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“You know, I think we agree more than I initially thought,” she says. “Thanks for talking. This has given me a lot of good ideas for the paper.”

“Likewise,” you laugh, waving to her goodbye as she gets up to leave.

Lisa +5