Virtual Life
ouise stands in line at the grocery store among a cluster of strangers who are also eager to be somewhere else.
She stares at her watch, avoiding the faces around her, not caring what they think, or want to say. In her little
basket is a stack of TP dinners, a carton of cigarettes and a pint of ice cream. She is anxious for the line to move,
so that when she finally gets home, she won't have to keep the ice cream in the freezer for too long before
she eats it. Louise hates soupy ice cream. She probably hates that more than liver and onions. Liver and onions
are never good. Ice cream has the potential to be great, but if it is soupy, it has been greatly disadvantaged.
The line creeps forward as a very old man hobbles out the electric door. There is a camera above the door like an electronic sentry that vigilantly observes the comings and goings of all shoppers. "Since we're neighbors, lets be friends." Louise thinks of people she has known in the past who have ripped her off and maybe a camera would have helped. "Everything you gather is just more that you can lose," she recalls from a song. It doesn't matter. What was lost is now forgotten. Her life continues to roll along without those things.
She turns to stare at the man behind her because his cart has accidentally bumped her leg. She thinks of saying something but notices the "Lonely Man" dinners in his basket, and decides to let it go. He didn’t mean it. He is truly sorry and looks on the verge of tears. She admires him. She wishes she could cry, or laugh.
Tonight she will go home and heat a meal in the microwave. She feels a sort of dry amusement at the thought of the microwave. It is the perfect device for the single person; a time saving device. As if single people are crushed for time. Maybe it would do her some good to actually create a meal on her own. Maybe not. What would be the point? She lets that thought go into the same bin with all the other dead thoughts that pass through her head in a day.
The line creeps forward again as another young woman walks aimlessly to the door. Louise notices that she doesn't seem too excited about going wherever it is that she is going. She wonders about anyone who is happier in the grocery store. The smells, the faces, the unruly children, the bright lights and the signs. All of these things scream at and shake the senses, rattling her to the core. She stares at her watch again.
The headline of the "National Prevaricator" reads: "Twelve year old girl gives birth to forty year old man." There is also something about the second coming, which surprises her. Since the millenium came and went so uneventfully, not much has been said about the end of the world in the last twenty years. If it happens, it happens. What are you going to do, she wonders. She thinks the subject is ridiculous and pointless. To distract herself, she stares at a sign that advertises a sale on fresh, organic peaches. She thinks of the time when "organic" meant that it was grown without chemicals. Now, it simply means that it isn't synthetic.
The line is moving again. It's her turn now. She places her TP dinners, cigarettes, and ice cream on the counter and gets her debit card from her wallet. She is eager to get home and turn on the teleputer. She misses her telefriends during the day and counts the minutes until she can see them again. Tonight is "The Hippie Ninja's." She isn't sure what it's about, but the characters are all very nice to her. It is only when she is with her telefriends that she feels connected and alive. She loves irony, but this goes right past her.
