Seeing the sense of it did nothing to smooth over his bruised sensibility, however. The whole telephone issue still bothered him.
But the instrument existed for his use, didn’t it? So:
“Hello, Gloria?” he said when she answered.
“Is that you, Max? Is everything OK with my date?”
“I don’t know. She’s outside.”
“Aren’t you going to let her in?”
“Why should I? I’d rather be here on the phone talking to you than being with a Date-a-Fake.”
“Oh, come on, Max. It isn’t so bad as all that. She’s pretty interesting, actually. I talked a little with her myself after I picked her up at the rental agency and had her imprinted. I was kind of surprised what I was like.”
“Well, what if she isn’t like you? It’s you I want to spend time with.”
“They’re pretty good at these things, Max. She’s probably as close to me as you can get.”
“That’s depressing. I was looking forward to something other than an imitation.”
“Well, what can I say? You’re just an oddball, Max. All the other guys who want to date me would rather go out with a Date-a-Fake—and sometimes they send their Date-a-Fake to go out with mine.”
“Doesn’t sound much fun to me. So what were you going to do tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tonight. While I was out with your Date-a-Fake. I’d be out having fun, while you—well, what did you plan to do?”
“Oh, I’d spend my time here. Read a little. Do some laundry maybe. Something.”
“Isn’t that what you do all the time? How about dating in person, and actually doing something?”
“Boy, Max, are you out of the flat-screen movies or something? Where have you been? People don’t date in person any more. That’s an old form of personal interaction that’s as obsolete as cassette tape players. There’s a lot more efficient ways of getting to know someone.”
“Like using Date-a-Fakes, huh?” Max thought about that. Cash or credit, versus the transaction: the transaction was what mattered. The real Gloria or her Date-a-Fake: was the date what mattered? The exchange of information about each other? The efficient sharing of time, to get to know one another? So dates were supposed to be efficient? Since when?
“Listen, Gloria,” he said. “I admit I’m a greenhorn. I don’t really do any dating. Most women I meet just don’t seem so interesting. But you—you really got my curiosity going. You know, today I went to a florist’s and was going to buy you flowers.”
“That’s a nice thought, Max.”
“Well, they wouldn’t let me. That’s another story, though. I won’t get into it. But now that I think about it I’m almost glad they didn’t. Because I’ve started thinking about what it meant for me to buy flowers. But maybe I shouldn’t get into that, either. I’m taking up quite a bit of your time, jabbering like this, aren’t I?”
“Go ahead. It’s interesting.”
“Well, what do flowers represent? Sure, they’re supposed to represent feelings, and the more expensive the flowers the more elevated the emotions.”
“Such a cynic!”
“I guess so. But they not only represent something, they also serve a particular purpose. In our times they’ve become a kind of substitute for the actual process of expressing feelings and emotions—sometimes of even taking the time to get to know a person well enough to actually feel the emotions in the first place. So in trying to buy you flowers, I was really trying to buy a substitute for the patient, time-consuming occupation of being around you long enough to discover if we have enough in common to generate feelings.”
“Are you always figuring things out this way, Max? I’m following you so far—but I think you’re trying to tell me something, too.” Her voice lifted with an edge of humor.
Max smiled. “Well, thinking about the flowers that way did give me an idea of what we should do. What we should do tonight, I mean. It would be thoroughly up-to-date. The latest thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“We should sit around and do nothing. Together.”
“Together? You mean, just sit around?”
“It’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“That’s so weird, Max.”
“No, no, it’s the natural outgrowth of all the new efficiency of communication and transaction. People need to pass time while the rest of the world whirrs along. After all, we just have to send out a few electronic commands to have most of our errands and chores done, right? So sitting around and just passing the time is the only proper response. Doing it with someone else—-well, it sounds better to me than doing it by myself.”
“You know, Max, I’m enjoying talking to you so much I’m almost willing to go along, weird as it sounds. But what about my Date-a-Fake? What do we do with her?”
“I’ve thought of that,” Max said. “You know, my mother loves keeping up on the latest things and all the high-tech stuff that comes into fashion. And Date-a-Fakes—well, I was just thinking I’d like mom to meet you.”
“Max,” Gloria said.
She said it in such a way—
Not too strongly, not too softly—
That he knew he’d found the right words—
No, the right Sower—
To give her.
It meant something else, too.
It meant that this time, with Gloria—
That maybe he’d finally found what he’d been looking for.
Maybe he’d found the real thing. The real thing, or else—
Or else he’d found a damned good substitute.