Kent Steinberg

Romance in the Year 2045

(Two men sit in a Dave and Busters. One of them is my hypothetical future self. They drink beer

slowly, meditatively, as if they are contemplating the world passing them by—time slowly

slipping away, opportunity and hope deprecating with its passing.)

Kent: I was talking to my son the other day.

Bill (inquisitive and harsh in tone): Why?

Kent: What did you say?

Bill: Why, in God’s good name, would you ever talk to your son?

Kent (like it was obvious): Because I love him.

Bill: How’s that now?

Kent (repeating, slowly and facetiously, as if talking to a small child): Because I love him.

Bill (shrugging his shoulders): Whatever floats your boat, man.

Kent: So I went to go talk my son the other day, after I found some things in his room.

Bill (interjecting): Things? Like drugs? How bad was it? Marijuana? Well that’s not that bad.

Was it cocaine? Cause if my son was doing cocaine, I think I’d be proud.

Kent (sidetracked from his initial thoughts): You’d be proud if your son did cocaine? Really?

Bill: Better than what he does now: him conducting these makeovers, all alone, on these

mannequins, preparing to enroll in a beautician school. At least drugs are social. He’d have to go

out of his room, find the dealer through the grapevine, and then talk to the drug peddling fellow.

Kent (stares with some consternation at his friend, then switches subjects): Well, anyways, I

went into my son’s room, and he left his phone on.

Bill: Somebody’s a snoop.

Kent: I didn’t look through his phone. I just saw, accidentally mind you, saw through my

periphery that there was a needle accessory coming out of it.

Bill: A needle?

Kent: Yeah, a long, pointy needle.

Bill: Coming out of his phone?

Kent: Well, plugged into his phone. Like in a port, you know?

Bill: Yeah, I think I get it.

Kent: So anyways, I went and asked him about it.

Bill: You confronted him?

Kent: Of course!

Bill (in utter horror): Never talk to your children! Never! Why would you do that?

Kent: Because I was worried sick about him… I love him.

(Bill takes a large swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders)

Kent: So anyways, I went in and asked him about it, and he acted like it was nothing. Nothing!

Bill: Kids are messed up nowadays, man. I walked in on my son one time making out with one

of his beautician practice dummies. It was messed up man. I just acted all quiet, said “You do

you” and then walked the hell out.

Kent (looking at his friend with some alarm): So…I ask my son why he has this sharp metal

needle plugged into his phone, and he says that it’s for a new app.

Bill: A new app?

Kent: Yeah, this dating app called Needler. You apparently jab this really thin needle right

through your eye and directly into your brain, going through your cerebral cortex and amygdala,

and then, based on your neurological feedback, you get matches.

Bill: Matches?

Kent: Yeah matches, like with girls.

Bill: That wouldn’t work for my son.

Kent: What?

Bill (unnecessarily explaining further): Since he likes dolls.

Kent: Anyways, I obviously told him he couldn’t have this Needler application. So I took away

his needle. And then he was all like, “Dad, I hate you. Dad, why don’t you just leave me alone?

Dad, I wasn’t going to tell you this but mom’s cheating on you with your brother.”

Kent takes a large swig of his beer. The air now possesses a completely still quality, not tranquil

but dead.

Bill (suddenly concerned for his friend): Wait what?

Kent: Yeah, Janine is cheating on me.

Bill: Sorry, man.

Kent: Yeah…

Kent takes another swig of beer, then breathes out a long depressed sigh

Bill (putting his hand conciliatorily on Kent’s shoulder): Oh man, I’m so sorry, I can’t…

Kent’s phone starts to buzz

Kent: Hold that thought. Wait. Wait. Yes!

A bright, gleaming look assuages the previous dreadful, purposeless gaze that had afflicted Kent

for the duration of his time at Dave and Busters. It is a look that is resplendent with hope and

optimism, some sight of a possible future has made his current reality not seem such a dreary

thought.

Bill: What is it?

Kent (with a smile plastered across his face): What now?

Bill: Why are you so happy?

Kent: Oh! Yeah, one of my matches on Tinder wants to meet up.

Bill (nodding his head slowly, now completely understanding): You should really tell your son to

start using Tinder, like a normal adult.

Kent: Kids nowadays, huh?

Bill (as if it were nothing): Kids nowadays. Man, they start out as these loveable, doughy eyed

dopes that are so cute and end up these weird beautician-puppet-make-out freaks. But what can

you really do?

Kent: Yeah man (putting his arm around his friend’s shoulder), what can you really do?

Copyright  ©  2015  Kent  Steinberg  Rights  Reserved.