there’s nothing to freak out about. He could use a coffee. Better, a beer. He wonders what they’ve been telling Charmaine, over in the ladies’ workshops.
Right, another thing, says Ed. From time to time a film crew may arrive to shoot some footage of the ideal life they will all be leading, to be shown outside Consilience as a boost to the helpful work they are doing here. They themselves will be able to view those results too, on the closed-circuit Consilience network. Music and movies are available on the same network, although, to avoid overexcitement, there is no pornography or undue violence, and no rock or hip-hop. However, there is no limitation on string quartets, Bing Crosby, Doris Day, the Mills Brothers, or show tunes from vintage Hollywood musicals.
Fuck, thinks Stan. Granny junk. What about sports, will they be able to watch any games? He wonders if there’s any way of picking up a signal from outside. What’s bad about football? But maybe not try anything like that too soon.
A couple more things, says Ed. There’s a sign-up list for preferred jobs, in prison and in town: they should number their three top choices, with ten being the most preferred. Those who’ve never driven a scooter should sign up on the yellow sheet; the scooter classes will begin on Tuesday. Scooters are colour-matched to lockers, and all individuals must take personal responsibility for their scooter while it is in their care.
He, Ed, is sure they will all make a great success of this revolutionary new venture. Good luck! He gives a wave of the hand, like Santa Claus, then leaves the room. The woman in the dark suit walks behind him. Maybe she’s a bodyguard, Stan thinks. Powerful glutes.
When he gets to the list of jobs, Stan chooses Robotics first. After that, IT; and third, scooter repair. He figures he could do any one of them. Just so long as he doesn’t end up in Kitchen Cleanup, he’ll be fine.
That evening, he and Charmaine do their first shopping with their Posidollars, and share their first meal in their new abode. Charmaine can’t get over it; she’s so happy she’s warbling. She wants to open all the closet doors, turn on all the appliances. She can hardly wait to see what sorts of jobs they’ll be given, and she’s signed herself up for scooter lessons. It will all be so terrific!
“Let’s go to bed,” says Stan. She’s spinning out of control. He feels he needs a butterfly net to catch her, she’s so hyper.
“I’m just too excited!” she says. As if, thinks Stan. He wishes he were the object of that excitement, and not the dishwasher, which she’s now cooing over as if it’s a kitten. He can’t shake the feeling that this place is some sort of pyramid scheme, and that those who fail to understand that will be left empty-handed. But there’s no obvious reason for this feeling of his. Maybe he’s ungrateful by nature.
I’m Starved for You
Stan’s lost count of the exact time they’ve been inside the twin cities. You can get into a drifting mode. Has a year gone by already? More than a year. He’s repaired scooters one month, dealt with egg-counting software the next, then back to the scooters. Nothing he hasn’t been able to handle.
He’s listening to “Paper Doll” on his phone ear buds while rinsing out his coffee cup. Those flirty guys, he hums to himself. At first he hated the music in Consilience, but he’s begun to find it oddly consoling. Doris Day is even kind of a turn-on.
Today is switchover day, when he and Charmaine both go into the prison. How does she pass the time away from him, inside the women’s wing? “We knit a lot,” she’s told him. “In the off-hours. And there are the vegetable gardens, and the cooking – we take turns at those daily things. And the laundry, of course. And then at the hospital, my job as Chief Medications Administrator – it’s a big responsibility! I’m never bored! The days just fly by!”
“Do you miss me?” Stan asked her a
Right, another thing, says Ed. From time to time a film crew may arrive to shoot some footage of the ideal life they will all be leading, to be shown outside Consilience as a boost to the helpful work they are doing here. They themselves will be able to view those results too, on the closed-circuit Consilience network. Music and movies are available on the same network, although, to avoid overexcitement, there is no pornography or undue violence, and no rock or hip-hop. However, there is no limitation on string quartets, Bing Crosby, Doris Day, the Mills Brothers, or show tunes from vintage Hollywood musicals.
Fuck, thinks Stan. Granny junk. What about sports, will they be able to watch any games? He wonders if there’s any way of picking up a signal from outside. What’s bad about football? But maybe not try anything like that too soon.
A couple more things, says Ed. There’s a sign-up list for preferred jobs, in prison and in town: they should number their three top choices, with ten being the most preferred. Those who’ve never driven a scooter should sign up on the yellow sheet; the scooter classes will begin on Tuesday. Scooters are colour-matched to lockers, and all individuals must take personal responsibility for their scooter while it is in their care.
He, Ed, is sure they will all make a great success of this revolutionary new venture. Good luck! He gives a wave of the hand, like Santa Claus, then leaves the room. The woman in the dark suit walks behind him. Maybe she’s a bodyguard, Stan thinks. Powerful glutes.
When he gets to the list of jobs, Stan chooses Robotics first. After that, IT; and third, scooter repair. He figures he could do any one of them. Just so long as he doesn’t end up in Kitchen Cleanup, he’ll be fine.
That evening, he and Charmaine do their first shopping with their Posidollars, and share their first meal in their new abode. Charmaine can’t get over it; she’s so happy she’s warbling. She wants to open all the closet doors, turn on all the appliances. She can hardly wait to see what sorts of jobs they’ll be given, and she’s signed herself up for scooter lessons. It will all be so terrific!
“Let’s go to bed,” says Stan. She’s spinning out of control. He feels he needs a butterfly net to catch her, she’s so hyper.
“I’m just too excited!” she says. As if, thinks Stan. He wishes he were the object of that excitement, and not the dishwasher, which she’s now cooing over as if it’s a kitten. He can’t shake the feeling that this place is some sort of pyramid scheme, and that those who fail to understand that will be left empty-handed. But there’s no obvious reason for this feeling of his. Maybe he’s ungrateful by nature.
I’m Starved for You
Stan’s lost count of the exact time they’ve been inside the twin cities. You can get into a drifting mode. Has a year gone by already? More than a year. He’s repaired scooters one month, dealt with egg-counting software the next, then back to the scooters. Nothing he hasn’t been able to handle.
He’s listening to “Paper Doll” on his phone ear buds while rinsing out his coffee cup. Those flirty guys, he hums to himself. At first he hated the music in Consilience, but he’s begun to find it oddly consoling. Doris Day is even kind of a turn-on.
Today is switchover day, when he and Charmaine both go into the prison. How does she pass the time away from him, inside the women’s wing? “We knit a lot,” she’s told him. “In the off-hours. And there are the vegetable gardens, and the cooking – we take turns at those daily things. And the laundry, of course. And then at the hospital, my job as Chief Medications Administrator – it’s a big responsibility! I’m never bored! The days just fly by!”
“Do you miss me?” Stan asked her a
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