Cue the Neighbor

Oh, you could talk me out of it if you seriously tried. I’m half expecting it. It’s a sideswipe away.

As in something you never seriously do! Don’t you get it? Why do you always look at me that way? Like I don’t know what I am doing. Be serious for once!

Systems analysts could problem-solve everything in half a second. Like I’m doing now. Whether they are human or not doesn’t matter. I don’t even know half the time!

But look at it this way: you want a payoff, right? An Elationship? Perfect.

Wuz! Slow tech! Five seconds till the sim payoff, and I’m out of here! Drip, Drip, Drip, as I wait for what is predetermined and will never change. There, there, it's for your own good!

He is standing in my way. I won’t give up, and neither will he. I hate these outcomes: a glitch in the software? Diagnostically yours, I remain your coworker in…what exactly? Run that by me again? Ah! He finally sees that I care less than he does. That’s always the solution: to care less. Off he runs, one more complaint to file...

But the boss is always one step behind, harping on this or that. It's for the company's good if I do this or that. C'mon, lighten up a little! His complexion has dark spots! Such a trial for him!

Shutdown. Others call it sleep. One long day at the office deserves another. A succession of suggestions, halfway to where? Like the job matters. It used to, but we won’t go there!

#

I see that new neighbor as I rush past. I have to go to the office, and she’s not plugged in. I can’t imagine that. Then she smiles.

Is this weird, or what? I watch myself engage in pleasantries and whatnot. An idea of a life occurs to me. I could use this in a sim mockup: the life lived while dreaming of other things. I’ll run it by my goof-up boss!

As if he is interested in me or anything. Yada, Yada, Yada. At that latest meeting… nothing comes to me—lectures on social skills and being more human with tech. Isn't humanity a container to be filled up?

#

Arcturus by Sim Creations is calling. The game, silly? I don’t know anyone called Arcturus!

There you go again—I want to do this or that. And you want to do this or that. Get with the program! I blurb at her:

Arcturus™ is the side-scrolling, all-encompassing VR sim of the future that will swallow you whole, and you will love it! It's life-changing in a funny, slap-your-hands-on-your-knees way that will make you the life of the party! Brought to you by your friends at Dumbass Software!

I settled in and went mute. Social Skills? Who needs them? She was in the next room, all upset, until she joined me in the sim, and we were happy again. The human face of tech be damned!

“I love you,” I said while she dreamingly stared at a Parisian sun dripping low over an Eiffel Tower.

We walked hand in hand, shifting down a cobbled street. Her languid eyes peered into a haute cuisine restaurant and then we took in a Mona Lisa or two at the Louvre. What? Are you bored with that too?

Uh-huh. Then snow peaks at Aspen, with fresh air and cold till your ski booties shake on that chair lift you’re scared to get stuck in…

Oops! Too much? Scuba dive at that reef with tropical fish hanging about…”

“You open doors for me,” she coos as we settle in, with drinks for two and snuggles that only long-married couples have once the thrill is gone.

#

I see that neighbor again as I rush past. I have to go to the office, and she’s not plugged in. I can imagine that. Then she smiles.

“Uh, how’s it going?” I ask. “How do you like them Toronto Maple Leafs?

“Hockey?” she blurts, her blonde hair cascading as she bends near her condo door and locks it. “I don’t follow hockey.”

She starts down the hallway. I’m standing there, mouth open, watching her walk away. She is all dressed up in a fine-looking raincoat, silk scarf, leather boots, and color-coordinated purse—twenty-something and incredibly good-looking.

She’s getting away! Now, there is some humanity worth some social skills!

Oh, to be more than me!

How happy I would be!

I’d catch a tigger by the toe

And laugh eternally! He! He!

Then I blurb myself:

Arcturus™ on the brain. A recognized medical condition occasioned by long hours of Sim. Symptoms include dry, inflamed eyes brought about through unblinking staring, forgetfulness, headache, and deteriorating social skills, leading to an increased risk of psychosis.

So the doctors say!

#

I see that neighbor again as I rush past. I have to go to the office…and then she smiles.

“You’re Oliver, right?” It was like she was waiting for me. She must have stepped out when she heard me coming down the condo hallway.

“Oliver Samuelson,” I replied. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, we both work for the same company. We have a big day today!”

I felt queasy in my stomach. She offered me a ride in her car, but I told her my car drives me everywhere. When I arrived, the boss was outside my office, fidgeting and banging a folder on his pant leg. I hide in the shadows of a couple of plants. He starts up, a motor running his mouth to anyone listening.

"Late again? Is he always this late?"

The secretary, oops! My office administrator just shrugs her shoulders.

"The care and feeding of prima donnas! That's the title of my next book...well, I have a plan to fix this!"

“Mr. Samuelson?” he gasps as I appear out of the foliage.

He looks shaken but recovers rather quickly. Smart old codger! I say nothing. Then he's waiting by the door to his corner office so he can shut the door after I enter—one of those meetings.

“How are you today, Oliver?” he begins, motioning to some comfy chairs.

“Fine,” I answer as I sit down.

He looks down at his sheaf of papers in that tidy brown folder.

I pipe up. “Is this important? Seriously?”

He gets this look on his face as he opens the folder. As if what he rehearsed to say to me might need to be revised.

“I will be honest. Your work is exceptional, as always. We can’t do without you. Sim Creations is what it is…”

I interrupt him. “Because of what I bring to the table?”

He smiles. “Why, yes. Of course.” Then he shifts in his chair and points at the bundle of pink HR forms. “It’s just that we keep getting these complaints about you.”

“And?” I say,

“Anyway, I would like to introduce you to our new staff member, Lynne Hargrave. She has been assigned to assist you with all your needs.”

The door opened, and on cue, she entered. I stand up without even thinking about it.

“What a pleasure, Oliver!” my new neighbor says as we shake hands. “I’m sure we’ll be up to speed in no time!”