Perfect Hair and Pinkie Rings
L. Van Warren
Grasshoppers do all their tasting with their feet.
Society had come a long way since the late 20th century, and only five years
into the new millennium had shown tremendous progress. What had first appeared
as the bouffant hairdoo plastic battery people joke how now turned into
expected business wear. Now people looked good, 24 hours a day, from top
to bottom. They didn't have to worry about weight either since the dingo
gene had been put into mass production. Even sex was now high density polyethylene
squeaking between consenting couples of various quick deciding persuasions.
These plastic body suits were glued directly to the skin, which was shaved
smooth, washed with peroxide and exposed to yellow light first. The famous
transpiration patent had rendered old-fashioned bathing unnecessary, but
some maintainence of the outer plastic was required. Turtle polish and carnuba
wax did the trick from bottom to top, including the fixed solid hairdoo.
Hair was now under complete control, but little did any of us expect that
the pinkie ring was soon to follow.
Strangely it was the collectable phone card craze that led to this stupendous
simplification of daily life. One bright supermarket magnate led the way,
by letting customers pay for groceries with their shoeboxes of collectable
baseball hero phone cards, quite handy for those who at that time had used
up their standard plastic credit limit after the sixth black Friday in a
row, that famous unified world stock market debacle that covered manhole
covers and street curbs from Manhattan to Tokyo with the corpses of freshly
ground polymers and hamburger.
When the phone card people saw the grocery thing happening, they went crazy.
One especially prolific salesman jokingly quipped that he just wished he
could get "those damn cards" jammed in the phi alpha nu ring he
ceremonially stroked on his little finger. The rest was history. Pinkie
rings for every paying customer and for every consuming man, woman and child
were being cranked out with record precision, in record time. They had GPS,
so they could tell where you were (took a bite out of crime), plus cellular-two-way
if you had the ear-gizmo,they had medical records, organ donation, and driver's
license. You could load them up with greeniedough as it came to be called
over the vphone, through Term Booths and even at the post office. You could
put your homework in them and a last rites and will message to be played
in the event of your demise. If you happened to be diabetic, on dialysis
or had some other misfortune, they even had a UV Doppler thingie on the
underside that could telemeter your vital signs in real time. Rich people
would wear one on each hand in case one gave out, which they didn't ...
usually. The underprivileged, oppressed and teen social class would rip
off the top jewel, which was transparent for show, and wear them through
the septum of the nose. This led to a great performances at the grocery
store, usually preceded by a feral growling on social injustice before the
goods were paid for with a bowing motion over a scanner, which had the contradictory
appearance of paying great respects to the checkout personnel. - Van Warren