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Sometimes, I just want to pretend to love someone so that I can stop the cycle of tedium. But that would require ripping off the electrodes the waiters fasten to my heart. The last person who took me to dinner was Leo, the humorless bore. He spent the entire night making zero-gravity jokes like, "Hey, eat as much as you want. We're weightless!" He said it so loudly the women at other platforms rolled their eyes on my behalf.
But Leo was really attractive. He was one of many babies born whose parents had genetically engineered his physical features somewhere between a Greek God and an old-time movie star like Brad Pitt. Listening to him, I wished it were still possible for humans to be deaf, but I tried to make it work just so I could touch him. On my data-analysis form, I indicated that I found him to be funny and charming. But the electrodes reading didn't lie. I was fined by the New Reform Government for trying to force something that wasn't meant to be. For nights afterward, when I was alone, I would fantasize about just one night of meaningless sex with Jack back at my pod. But I never got very far. Meaningless sex would get you brought in for questioning — it was an act of defiance against the New World Order.
My mom hates to reminisce about the old days. One morning, I was pulling on my boots as I asked her, "So, you met dad, at a bar? And you just went up and talked to him? And then what?"
"Listen to me," she said, getting up to leave the room. "Nothing was fun before World Peace. We were reckless with our relationships, clinging to anybody we could so we'd never have to be alone. Now don't stay out all day today. I need help with dinner."
I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the continually recycled, lavender-scented air. Riding the solar-powered moving sidewalk to the skyway station, I decided that before I went to the local data station to surrender my
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I walked into the Starbucks, a world of hipster couples on nostalgia trips.
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reports on how the mating process was going, I'd stop at the Starbucks, one of the only remnants of corporate America. It was overly sentimental to be seen in a place like that, but at least it was legal.
I swiped the tattooed barcode on my wrist on the outside panel of the skyway port and climbed in. It wasn't that crowded, so I was able to sit instead of slipping into one of the awkward Velcro vests and sticking myself to the wall. I teased myself with thoughts of seeing Jack on the skyway. "I'll just go right up to him and talk to him," I thought. "I'll tell him I love him. In front of everyone. I don't care if it's punishable." I let those feelings of anxiety bubble up, giving myself a little rush before returning to reality at my stop.
I walked into the Starbucks, a world of hipster couples on nostalgia trips. Everyone was sitting at tables, using old-fashioned laptop computers and drinking coffee out of cups. I became mesmerized by the pastry display, so I didn't see the guy behind me as I stepped back into the line and onto his foot.
It was Jack.
I smiled at him.
"Are you two together?" the girl behind the counter asked. "Ready to order?" I backed off the line and Jack ordered two coffees. We still hadn't said a word.
He followed me to my table and put the coffee down in front of me. "Hi." I smiled. I wasn't trying to be coy, I was speechless. If this was the feeling that my mom got when she met my dad at a bar, I think it would be worth living in an unsafe world. I checked my PDI; he checked his. They were dark and silent.
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"Listen," I said. "I don't even know you and I'm risking being taken away by the government."
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He read my statistics back to me. "Works for Eternal Life. Control Freak. Overly sentimental. Mildly dissatisfied. Has trust issues." Yup, that was me. Then he turned his PDI off. I looked around nervously. He was going to get in trouble. Within twenty-four hours, someone could come to take him away.
"Don't do that!" I said.
He put his hand on mine and smiled. "Why shouldn't I?"
"I guess I don't know."
He reached for my PDI. I let him turn it off. "Well, then, I guess we both don't know," he said. He put his hand on mine. I pictured myself jumping over the table and kissing him passionately.
Instead, I reached across the table to shake his hand even though our left hands were already clasped. I spilled my coffee, reached for a napkin and spilled his. I had hoped something adorably awkward like that would happen.
"What are you so nervous about?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Listen, I don't even know you, and I'm risking being taken away by the government just so we can have coffee together."
He laughed. "Come on. You don't believe that, do you? They're not that organized. It's never happened before."
It had never dawned on me that the New Reform couldn't really mobilize. I felt like an idiot. Jack and I might actually have more than a whirlwind romance; we could spend the next two hundred years together.
I glanced across the table and noticed that Jack had one eyebrow hair longer than the rest. He casually launched into a funny story, probably the story he tells on all his first dates when he's on his A-game. I concentrated on that unruly hair, and tried to imagine the day when I'd be comfortable enough to just reach up and pluck it. I hoped that day would never come. n°
©2006 Jen Kirkman and hooksexup.com.
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