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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1792257
Margie finds that progress can be shocking.
“I’m meeting some friends,” Margie told the hostess while casting a glance about the restaurant. “There they are,” she said without waiting for the girl to respond. Her friends looked up and waved.

“We already ordered your drink,” Lauren told her as Margie sat. She didn’t bother to peruse the menu printed on the table, it would be the usual today.

“Happy birthday,” Abigail said leaning in. “Are you planning anything special?”

“I don’t know,” Margie looked up as the waitress plunked her drink down and zoomed away to another table. “It’s a day pretty much like any other for me.”

“You’re 94. That’s quite a milestone.” Lauren nodded her head in agreement.

“We’ll talk about milestones when I hit a hundred.” Margie leaned forward. “Let’s go spend a couple of days at the Space Hotel and Resort. I’ve wanted to go for ages. I mean, how many 100 year old women do they get up there?”

“Technically it would only be one 100 year old woman, since Abby and I are six months younger than you.” She waited while Margie rolled her eyes. “But it would be fun.”

“Let’s do it.” All three women stacked their hands in the center of the table. “Sisters forever!” they intoned.

“Well, I guess we should order,” Margie muttered. She tapped the blue light on the table top and dialog boxes appeared on the table in front of each of the women. They each selected their choices from the drop down menu and hit the red flashing light to send the order to the kitchen.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Abby complained. “Remember when the waitress didn’t just bring your food, she took your order too?” Everyone nodded. “I liked that you could substitute things, ask her to have it cooked certain ways, you could even get a recommendation on her own favorite entre. It’s so impersonal now.”

“It’s much more efficient though. And it keeps costs down. Less mix ups too. It's a good thing the waitresses have a powerful union. Otherwise we'd have a robot bringing us lunch.”

“Well, I’m with Abby. It makes me uncomfortable.” Lauren leaned across the table and picked up another packet of sugar for the coffee she was nursing along. “I’ve been reading about it. They call it future shock. One little thing will happen and all of a sudden the world seems totally alien from the one you grew up in. You’re overwhelmed and left feeling as if you no longer belong here.”

“That’s silly,” Margie laughed. “Good heavens, you have to expect that things will change. Progress happens, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Well, I’ve experienced it!” Lauren looked indignant. “Only with me, it’s more of a spinning, dizzy feeling with an irresistible urge to go lay down on my bed until the world makes sense again.”

“Me, too!” Abby agreed.

“That sounds like you both need to have your blood pressure checked.”

“Oh Margie, you’ll see. One day it will happen to you.”

The waitress appeared with the food. “Tell me about your granddaughter Abby, how are things going with the wedding?”

“It’s great! Oh, I brought pictures of the dress.” Abby pulled out her car keys and detached the flat plastic and metal square hanging from the chain. “It’s on the second page of the album,” she said, handing it to Margie.

Margie touched the screen and used her finger to flip to the appropriate page. “Wow,” she said tapping the picture. “Look at this!” She placed the album on the table top. Instantly, the entire table was covered with the picture of a stunning wedding gown. The women spent the next few minutes shoveling in their lunch and turning the dress from side to side, looking at it from all angles. Finally Abby sighed and retrieved the album.

Each woman put down their credit card on the table. Within seconds a place to sign appeared in front of them. They all dutifully signed on the line with their fingers.

“I’d better hurry,” Margie told them. “I think the parking meter may have run out.” They all rushed through the door and along the sidewalk to an empty parking spot.

“Where’s my car?” Margie exclaimed. “Do you think it was stolen?”

“Better call the city,” Lauren advised.

Margie whipped out her cell and dialed. A well modulated computer voice answered. “State your problem please.”

“I think my car was stolen.”

“What is your license plate?”

“NYK 004”

“Your car has not been stolen. We received a message from the meter that time had run out. The meter took a picture of your car and we identified it. We’ve emailed your citation and had your car towed to an automated lot. Please hold the line for the gps coordinates of your vehicle. You will need to put these into the computer at the lot so it can retrieve the correct car. Will you need me to dispatch a taxi to your location?”

“No,” Margie choked. “I can get a ride.”

“The coordinates have been sent to your cell. Thank you for using the Automated City Desk. Have a nice day.” The connection went dead and Margie pocketed the cell.

“Margie, are you all right?” Lauren put a hand on Margie’s arm. “You look stunned.”

“I am. The parking meter told the city time was up and they towed my car. It’s in an automated lot.”

“Gracious,” Abby gasped. “I’ve read about that happening in other cities but I hadn’t heard that it was implemented here.”

“I’ve never heard about it at all,” Margie said.

“Do you have a spinning, dizzy feeling with an urge to lie down?” Lauren teased.

“Of course not,” Margie snapped, but it didn’t ring true and Lauren and Abby grinned at each other.

“Well, come on Margie,” Abby took Margie’s arm and guided her away. “Let’s go get that car.”



word count - 978
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