In the dreary shell, all he could afford, which was dumb, as myriads open up as the buzz about the New World came into being. All the way out past Temecula, pass the frozen food shops, past the "DOME". It was made of plasticarft, set down amongst other dreary shells at the end of a street called "2x4-R248". He sat for a moment, looking at the red sky. And wandered inside.
"hhhhmmm" he said.
"What is it." the dreary shell said to him.
"Nothing much, just make me something for dinner will you...."
"Un momento!"
"One moment." he said.
"That is what I said."
"No, you said "Un Momento"..."
"Exactly."
Why the hell do I put up with this? He would need to check the main frame again. He changed from the working outfit, placing them in the washdry, took a shower, brushed his teeth, and came out wearing a tank top, faded blue jeans and flip flops.
The Dineobot looked at him, charming him with beeps.
He got an oven mitt and looked at the food.
Tex-Mex
"I know you were supposed to be set up via Dallas, but this is California, what is left of it, and I don't mind having Tex-Mex as one of the options, but really Tex-Mex every meal you eat, it is a drag..."
"It is Thai."
He dug into the Tex-Mex, dripping with reconstituted cheese.
"No , Thai is noodles, it is Gai Yaung, or Sai Grok or Pad Pak Roam Mit....."
"This is noodles dress in beef broth with and assortment of veggies."
"Is this Noodles" he said. Holding to up for view.
"Yes, it is Thai noodles dress in beef broths with an assortment of veggies."
"No. This is Tex-Mex, look at the cheese!"
"Yes, it is Thai noodles..."
To Sir With Love
13 years ago
2 comments:
Out in the high desert, they had dug a lot of trenches, as wide as a double-wide, and miles long. Then they ran in sewer hose, water hose, and power and comm conduit. Then they extruded resin boxes, one after the other, six feet under the desert floor. And then they buried them, leaving only miles and miles of solar array showing over the acres. They called them "eco-condos", and moved a generation into them. It was great growing up underground, like insects, or rodents. By the time we got out of high-school, you could rent them dirt cheap. (heh-heh) My buds and our chicks would crawl up to the surface at night, and sit around on cheap resin patio chairs, smelling the wonderful desert air, looking up at the stars, watching the verticals dropping down from the space stations, heading for Edwards. I kept my nose clean, made all the right key-strokes, got through Greater Mojave Community College, and got a job as a spaceman. Five-four-three-two-one.....They had good drugs for the spacesickness now, and I floated down the corridor to my bunkhouse. It looked exactly like our crash pad under the desert. Same walls, same vid screens, same forced air. If everybody chipped in, you could buy the desert air smell as an extra.
Back here in 2009, I just found out that, under the Bush administration, the BLM had actually given the buried Mojave housing plan a go-ahead. We will have to wait and see what Obama does.
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