It's been about a year, and this doesn't mean that I am coming back.
I wrote this to a friend, but I wanted to share it more. I can't stop talking and thinking of her. Please understand that this is all stream of consciousness writing.
Liza was beautiful. She was 20 years old but could convince you that she was wiser and smarter than you. She was extremely young yet an old soul as well. She fit under my arm. She was annoyingly charming. I was so jealous of the way that she attracted people. I was intimidated by her pursuit of her profession. She was one of the only other up and coming female baristas...and sometimes I was mad about that, and other times I was glad for the company. She was boy crazy and loved bikes. She had three tattoos. One was in french and read "always optimistic, always yours", one was the giving tree on her back, and the other was a coffee plant with the coffee cherry, green coffee bean, and roasted bean all incorporated. No doubt her next tattoo would have been something to do with bikes. All summer she sat at the end of the bar sipping on a soy cortado, eyeing cute barista boys, and reading about coffee. She was fluent in french. She was vegan. She loved cooking vegan food and sharing it with people. She had invited her family to the city for thanksgiving so that she could cook an entire vegan feast. Her sister looked just like her, was only a little younger, and followed Liza her whole life. Liza and I took a road trip to Michigan for a coffee jam. We realized how similar and different we were from each other, and cemented our friendship. That was only three weeks ago. We made plans to go to this fancy cocktail bar to flirt with the cute bartending staff. She was so excited about the bike I have being built for me. I confessed how afraid I was to ride in the city and she promised to teach me. She loved me with out knowing me more than just 6 months or so. I first met her at the coffee shop she worked at when she approached me, knew my name, told me she had seen me compete, and told me I was great. She told me her plans of competing and was so convinced that she was going to be a star. When we were in Michigan, we danced in the car and she made me listen to Taylor Swift defending it only to say that her sister loved this music and she loved her sister. She wasn't afraid of a crowd and was never timid. Her smile was wide and her nose was prominent. She always had these little things that she would say that annoyed me like "Where am I, I'm drunk." She made friends with everyone, but made the best of friends with people I can't imagine holding a conversation with. She played instruments and knitted. She was killed in a biking accident at the intersection of Damen and Wellington in Chicago on Wednesday around 3 or 4 pm. The cops reported it as a 23 yr old female, because her fake id was that good. She had been riding her bike on a beautiful day with her roommate and fell off at a stop light right as traffic started to go leaving her body to be demolished. Most of her injuries were to her head and she held on until they got to the hospital. Tif road in the ambulance with her and told her that she was going to be ok. Matt's mom was in the bus right next to the accident and called him because she was so disturbed by the sight. When he showed up, he realized it was his friend. Matt and his mom came into my shop right after looking ragged. Matt always orders tea but couldn't focus when I asked for his order. He asked to just get the "same thing" as his mom which was a medium cappuccino with an extra shot. I knew something was up, but didn't ask. As I made his drink I listened to him tell the story of what just happened to his roommate, my staff member. He only said his "friend." Marty called the shop around 6 and frantically said, "Was it Liza? Do you know if it was Liza." I told him that I didn't know what he was talking about. He told me that he thought Liza had been killed. I told him I would find out and hung up the phone. I didn't know what to do. I went to the computer and googled her name. Nothing. I remembered Matt's story and made his roommate ask. Deanna and I started to cry and then I went and told the staff that was on. Everyone was stunned. I called the rest of my staff and then the owner of the company. We closed early and went North to where the staff of her coffee shop hung out. The Sovereign is a block away from Metropolis (her shop). We cried, and drank, and told Liza stories. The next day we reserved her seat at the shop with a picture of her and some flowers. The wake was the next day and was where I saw her little body that didn't look at all like her but looked as if she was breathing. I saw her roommate for the first time since the accident, and we held on to each other. The day of the funeral my boyfriend covered my shift at work and many of my staff went to hear about Liza one last time. Last night we rode the route that her and her roommate went that day. It was nice out just like the day she died. We put up her ghost bike and everyone contributed something. I rode a bike for the first time in 2 1/2 years. She got me on a bike. We took the keys to the lock on the ghost bike as well as a portafilter to a beach. We screamed Liza's name and cheered for her and tossed the two into the sea. It started raining, and it was perfect. What she was, like Sue said, will never happen again.
posted by Sweet T @ 3:35 PM
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