IGlasses at The Olive Garden: a dream

Dear S,

“Finally! They’re here!’ I said as I opened the brown package. I'd been waiting for weeks now for the latest IGlasses to get here and I was the first of anyone I knew to get them. I put them on my face and powered them on.

They were pretty ugly things — opaque, neon pink, and with lots of cameras inside the lenses; some of them large and some of them small and overall way too big for my face. But everyone makes fun of the new stuff at first. Bluetooths made us all look schizo. Then earbuds went wireless and the first guys looked like they were wearing earrings. The first cell-phone users were portrayed in movies like the richest and most self-absorbed douchebags. And key fobs? Don’t get me started!

So on they went.

By the time they did power up I went manic. I started looking all around the Post Office like a madman for something — anything — that Apple might have modified. Oh come on, I thought. Nothing? They didn’t modify anything??

I guess it’s a prototype -- they’ll add something at the Post Office later.

So I went outside to see if anything else looked better. And I was disappointed. Everything, the billboards, the blue sky, the stupid birds, all looked exactly the same. I pressed the buttons on the side to see if anything would happen. “BATTERY 45%” was all I got. What a ripoff.

Then I got an idea: I walked into a Fred Meyer and looked wildly all around and went right for the register. I picked up a magazine and thumbed through it with unbelievable dexterity as the cashier just stared like a zombie. And just as I was giving up hope, the glasses lit up in action.

There it was, radiating colors in 3D, popping out of the magazine like a spell out of a magic tome — an ad for Olive Garden.

Come try our new IGlasses experience at Olive Garden! It said. I yelled Ha! and shoved the magazine back into the rack and ran out of the store.

By the time I got to Olive Garden they had been open for 15 minutes. The staff was waiting for me by the door, as usual; and they looked at me with half excitement and half disappointment. I was the first one to show up with IGlasses and a total embarrassment to the human race. I tried to look serious and dignified as I said table for one. Can't look like an Olive Garden fanboy or everybody will think I'm nuts. They said right this way and a girl began escorting me to my table.

I began looking around aggressively. Everything looked totally normal. Everything except me. The waitress looked at me like I was a nerd and I'd just asked her out, and after she sat me down she left immediately. Fucking Apple. Then I looked down and realized the menu was moving.

The colors were unbelievable. Italian sunshine leapt off the page. The words were swaying along with the branches in what appeared to be a light Tuscan breeze and it said Go ahead: open me! So I did.

And just as I did three randos walked up to my table and sat down: two men and a lady, all dressed casually, and acting like I wasn't there. Zuppa Toscana with unlimited breadsti — excuse me, this is my table, I said. They didn’t listen at all, but I guess the waitress assumed they were with me and set down a single water for them. They began conversing with each other as I stared at them in disbelief, and then one of them, a portly, middle aged man with cargo shorts and a beard, turned to me and asked, So, did Jerry get you the zanbar?

I put the menu down in frustration.

"What?”

"The zanbar. Did Jerry get it to you?”

"I don't know what you’re talking about.”

The lady with him gasped.

She asked me an equally unintelligible question about an equally unrecognizable person and I got annoyed and shot back.

“Look, I don’t know who you are. I don't know what a zanbar is. And I don’t know who this other person is either. All I wanted to do was try out these new IGlasses and —”

And I pulled them off in anger and was surprised to find two of the strangers disappeared. I shut my mouth and put them back on. And the two people who disappeared came back.

"I’ll ask you again: did you get… the zanbar.”

“…no…” I said with a look of astonishment. The lady gasped.

“He’s dead then,” she said.

"More likely than not,” said the bearded man.

“Me??” I shot back.

"No, you fool.” he said. Listen, do you want a smoke?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Look, what are you, a dork? Come on outside and have a smoke.”

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes with a brand name I’d never seen before and beckoned me outside, so I agreed and got up and out we went.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it and took a deep drag and then lit another one and handed it to me. I took it slowly and awkwardly from his hand, trying to look cool, and put it to my lips. I was not looking cool.

Go ahead, try it.

We just stood there as I took a drag, awkwardly, as his two ethereal partners just stared and he took out another cigarette and lit it. He handed it to me too.

I said I’ve already got one and he said have another. So I took that one and puffed on it too. They all kept staring at me in silence until he said, here, try this one and handed me a third.

Look, I’ve already got two lit cigarettes here.

But he looked intent, so I started smoking that one too as the others sat awkwardly between my fingers. I was never good at handling peer pressure.

Ouch! I shouted as third one caught fire and singed my lips. I dropped it to the floor and it whizzed and spun and exploded.

"That's the one,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“The same, I guess.”

“Nothing new?”

“Not really.”

“It’s too late,” the woman said. “She’s coming.”

Who? I asked, just as a chubby middle-aged mom in workout clothes came running around the corner screaming. My companions looked at me, took one big step back, and immediately took seats on the veranda.

Wait — WHAT?! I said.

The chubster had her eyes on me and whipped out an uzi and started blasting.

HELP! I yelled at my companions, who were of absolutely no use. I ran as fast as I could and dove behind the building. The door was right there, so back into the Olive Garden I went, significantly less cool than before. The door flew open and the waitress stared at me half confused and half disgusted. "Help!” I screamed. "There’s a mom with an uzi and she coming right for me!!”

AAAAAAUGH!

Nobody seemed to believe me so I ran right past them as Linda kicked open the door with an AAAAAUGH! and started blasting. I dove behind a booth and crashed into a cart with silverware as the bullets flew all around me. "HEY!” I shouted at my companions. "HELP ME YOU GUYS!!”

They all looked calm, but we had only met, so they didn't seem too worried about me — or the bullets.

“Don’t you feel any different?” the bearded man shouted.

“Yes! I’m being shot at by an angry fat mom FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER!’

I turned to the mom and shouted “Leave me alone! I’m a huge fan of Lizzo!” Another spray of bullets shattered the booth walls into splinters.

“No!” shouted the bearded man, “I mean isn't there anything you could do right now?”

“NO! Call the cops!”

“What's the first thing that comes to your mind?”

Son of a bitch. Nothing comes to my mind. I'm being attacked by a mom with an uzi and I’m laying in all these forks.

“The forks?” I said.

I picked one up while she was reloading and stood up and shouted beat it fatso!

I threw it with incredible strength and dexterity and it flew at incredible speed and hit with incredible accuracy. She was too fast, though, as everyone knows angry moms are when things are thrown at them, so it stuck into the wall right where her head had been. The staff was screaming. I picked up another fork and threw it, and another one, and another one, until the mom was on the run and I was chasing her with everything I had, creeping, booth by booth, up to the entrance of the building.

The staff was watching me intently. The enemy was retreating. My companions were beaming. I took another drag off the cigarette and with the other hand I loaded another fork. I was somebody special. I had been reborn. I had the new IGlasses and I was magically good at throwing forks.

Yours,

-J