“Holo-Date service. Here’s looking at you, kid. What’s your pleasure?”
I was tongue-tied. I knew it was a hologram, but the authenticity was overwhelming. “Well, I… uh, don’t know. I’ve never called before.”
“Tell you what, kid. Let me know who the dame of your dream is, and we’ll go from there.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Well, I’ve always had this thing for Jayne Mansfield. And Brigitte Bardot comes in a close second.”
Bogie flashed me his dog-eared grin. “I like your style, kid. And this is your lucky day. Since its Tuesday, we have the two-for-one special. When should we send ‘em over?”
I experienced a sudden twinge of excitement, the likes of which I hadn’t felt since ninth grade. “Give me about fifteen seconds to freshen up.”
Bogie took all the billing information from me and asked if I had any questions. “No. I just want to tell you, Bogie, I think this could be the beginning of a — “
“Yeah, yeah. You know how many times a day I hear that line?”
I severed the connection and lit up a Lucky Strike. So, maybe it wasn’t a perfect world. But there’d be other cases, maybe even a real flesh-and-blood woman waiting for me somewhere down the road. But until then, there were worse ways to spend time than playing strip Parcheesi with Jayne and Brigitte.
Sure, they wouldn’t be real, but hey, what is?