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Dannie’s Morning Routine

David Berger

    That morning, Dannie woke up really feeling like crap. It was going to be one of those days they decided as they went through the routine: up, shower, dress, protein and out. It was a cold day in late fall. Dannie had a light jacket on that wasn’t quite warm enough. They fretted to themself as they waited for the bus.
    And damnit! It was the goddamn Bus A! There were only three buses on their loop, Loop 116, one arriving every twenty minutes (forty minutes at night). They were all three pretty raggedy, but A was the worst. About three weeks before, during the night someone had puked in the bus. And although the bus had been cleaned and the stink had faded, Dannie could still smell it. They tried to ignore the smell as they took out their watch and caught the news. Nothing much: No Mass Shooting For Five Days; President Starts Second Year Of Her Term With Record Low Ratings; Eight Wolf Pups Born On Back Porch In Suburbia!
    Before Dannie knew it, Bus A was 180 degrees around the loop and it was time to get off. There must have been other people on the bus, but they hadn’t noticed them. And when they got out of the bus in front of the building where they worked, they scarcely noticed the others entering the building. There were eighteen elevators, one for each floor, which was unique to their building. People on one floor didn’t really know what was going on other floors, which was fine with Dannie.
    Six people rode up with Dannie to the seventeenth floor, but none of them spoke to each other during the ride: all were glued to their watches. At one moment, the elevator jolted a bit, and everyone looked around nervously, but still no one spoke. At 17, they all exited: Dannie was the last, and they watched as each of their colleagues went their own way through the corridors and cross-corridors to their hollows. (Yes, that’s what they were called.)
    Dannie entered their hollow and looked around. For strange some reason, they were surprised that nothing had changed. Same four walls, ceiling, floor. Same posters on the walls: a view of Florence, Chichen Itza, Avery Rock, and the Great Buddha of Kamakura, none of which they had ever visited. Their desk was there to their left, with their chair pulled out waiting for them. To their right was a pull-out couch. In front of them was their refrigerator, and there was a low table with their coffee maker and microwave. No window.
    Dannie went to their coffee maker and started preparing their morning hit, but they stopped in the middle. Not coffee. And not a microwaved waffle or juice from concentrate. They wanted something else, right now! But they were afraid to admit it. Finally, they got honest. They wanted a woman!
    Dannie sighed and looked down at their watch. They shook their wrist and it came on. Within a second, “Cynthia,” a hologram who looked like Farrah Fawcett in the famous photo, appeared.
    “Hello, Dannie,” Cynthia said. “How can I help you right now? Do you know or do you want some suggestions?”
    “No, I know,” Dannie said.
    “And what would that be, Dannie?”
    “As if you didn’t know.”
    “Well, Dannie, my sweet,” Cynthia said, “judging from the phase of the moon, day of the week, time of day and the last time you called me for a request, I’d say it’s a dame you’re hankering for.”
    “That’s right, Cyn. That’s because I can’t have you.”
    “You wouldn’t like hologram love, Sweet D.”
    “Your right, Cyn. Is Amanda available?”
    “That she is, Sweetie. You want me to send her up?”
    “ASAP, girlfriend.”
    “I’m not your girlfriend, Dannie-Bop. You’ll have to make do with Amanda.”
    “All right, C. But someday their gonna perfect solidograms, and then you and I ... .”
    “Dream on. By that time, you’ll be older than old and grayer than gray. Anyway, Amanda is on her way. See ya.”
    “Don’t wanna be ya,” Dannie said as their watch face faded. Just then, the bell to their hollow rang. “In,” they said.
    The door slid open and Amanda came in. Not surprisingly, she looked like Farrah Fawcett, complete under her cloak with the reddish-brown bathing suit. And that hair, that fabulous hair.
    “Hi, Dannie, love,” she said. “Had a feelin’ you might call, so I put Farrah on.”
    Dannie could see that the edges of Amanda’s Farrah face were still a little wet.
    “How ya doin’?”
    “Busy. Busy. Busy. But let’s not break the spell, huh?”
    “Down and dirty,” Dannie said.
    With a practiced move that always got them going, Amanda took off the “bathing suit” and gave Dannie a push that caused them to fall back on the bed.
    “The usual?” she asked.
    “All the way home,” they said.
    “Rock ’n roll, and all that,” Amanda said.
    About ten minutes later, Amanda finished “the usual.”
    “Very nice, Amanda,” Dannie said.
    “Always aim to please, D,” she said. “Gotta get going. ’Most lunch time.”
    “So early?”
    “Yeah. Lotta folks want a lunch-time quickie. Need my protein and a beauty nap before the traffic starts jammin’.”
    Amanda slipped on her “bathing suit,” and watched as Dannie struggled a little to get dressed. She leaned over and gave them a peck on the cheek.
    “Till next time, Kiddo,” she said.
    “Open,” Dannie said, and Amanda slipped out the door.
    As the door closed, Dannie’s watch chimed and “Cynthia” appeared on the face.
    “Did we have fun?” she said.
    “Right as rain,” Dannie replied. “As if you didn’t know.”
    “Ready to go?”
    “Ready.”
    “Right on, Dannie-B,” Cynthia said. “Talk to you later.”
    As Cynthia’s face faded away, Dannie took a nice, deep breath, turned to their desk and sat down on their chair. As they settled in, the screen came on and Julie, Cynthia’s business alter ego appeared.
    “Ready?” Julie asked.
    “Let’s go,” they said, and started dictating.
    Kung Sung-A and Alfred King, Soldiers of the Republic of Himalaya, looked out of their wolfhole, terrified at the massive Ural Empire Robokiller clanking towards them.

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