Smartystan

Smells of roasted coffee pervaded the space. Like inhaling a cozy feeling, Dr. Strong sat face to face with his date. He wore a tan houndstooth sport jacket and a black turtleneck with black loafers and a driver’s cap. Gara wore a smart leather jacket and rock t-shirt with tights and black boots. She looked educated in the halls of learning and street-like at the same time. Her complexion looked a few shades darker than Dr. Strong’s. She sipped with a casual air and a brief sophistication. Though slight, she could still appear to be taller than her five foot two stature. She giggled.

“What?” she asked, teeth dazzling in the light.

“I just thought you’d be a cappuccino kind of girl. You’re doing shots of espresso. You seemed that way on your profile.”

“Ahh…you can’t tell,” she smiled.

“Tell me about your time in finance,” Dr. Strong said. “And not the bullet points from the site, either.”

“I started out in a boiler room. I was amongst mostly men. That’s changed now with the merit tests. Anyway, I moved onto a commercial bank and rose to the level of senior vice president of accounts. I then advanced to supervisor of investment banking transactions. Oh, you didn’t want the bullet points. Well, I can color in with the discrimination and the boy’s club jokes and shenanigans. The money though? It was enough for me to continue to be in the field.”

Dr. Strong sipped. “That’s an impressive resume. I’m glad we can talk like this. Very few people have recognized me in this establishment,” he mentioned.

“Yes, Dr. Strong, you’re quite the figure.”

“I know.”

She smirked and sipped.

“You can read about me anywhere. I can tell you about the details that the articles and books and programs don’t know.”

“Shoot.”

“I broke my arm when I was six.”

“And you wore a cast for seven weeks.”

“Damn! I did write about that, didn't I?”

Gara laughed lightly.

“Ha-ha,” Dr. Strong said.

“Okay, I am planning to invest in a nuclear powered automobile and aircraft company. That’s completely under wraps. I’m going to need you to sign an NDA,” Dr. Strong replied. His face looked stern.

“You’re serious?”

The doctor retrieved a tablet from his satchel and it already had the agreement with highlights for the young woman to sign in the appropriate places.

“Wow, you founders don’t play,” she used her finger to leave her signature. She downed another shot of espresso.

“Now you know and you can’t breathe a word until the unveiling of the initial plans for the car and plane company.

“You’ve got a full plate, sir,” Gara remarked.

“I need to keep myself busy at my age. Speaking of, you don’t list your age online. A gentleman never asks a lady her age….”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“Perfect age. What do you think of the country-state? Be honest….”

“I can only be honest. I think it’s great. Great may even be too weak a word, awesome is probably better. It’s changed so many lives for the better.”

“That warms my mind,” Dr. Strong said.

“You didn’t say ‘heart.’ Why not?”

The heart is nothing but a glorified pump. Metaphorical or not, it’s a glorious organ that has been associated with vacuous notions of love and passion. So I say it warms the central processing unit that is the brain and the spirit known as the mind.”

Gara’s eyebrows raised. She downed more espresso.

“I never looked at it like that before,” she responded.

Dr. Strong chuckled lightly and sipped his cappuccino.

Gara looked up and around. She observed the architecture and the ambience of the place.

“This is nice. Too weak, I know. It’s splendid.”

“That’s alright. You don’t have to correct yourself. I know what you mean. ‘Nice’ has fewer syllables, anyway. ‘Brevity is the….”

“Don’t finish it. I’m not with you for the clichés.”

“What rankles you?” he asked.

“What gets me the most is the idea that those who have merit may never realize it or they could be cut down and made a mockery of because of some impairment or another.”

Dr. Strong shook his head slowly. “That’s what we fight. We want everyone to be able to be competent and confident in their capabilities. Even the so-called handicapped physically and mentally have a place. We endeavor to see the people stream through the gates looking, searching for a specific place where they can excel.”

“That’s what’s so admirable. I think so many people have looked down on the place because it’s so new. Anything new always looks ragged, haggard, and nasty. Once it grows, then people say, “oh, I guess it was something of worth.”

Dr. Strong nodded his head slowly. “It’s all about the specific placement. If a garbageman can collect those cans with the efficiency of an acrobat on a tightrope, I want him. If a woman can come up with mathematical equations never expresside before, let her through those gates.”

“I only disagree with you on the garbageman. Trash collection should be a synth’s job or a learned machine should do it. No humans.”

“This could only be true if the synths or learned machines are inoperable. Then the garbageman might grow to become an engineer and actually make the synths and learned machines.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think there’s a lot going on upstairs in trash collectors.”

Dr. Strong almost spit his coffee. “For three years I rode on the back of the truck and four years….”

“You were a driver. That’s also from your memoir.”

“So you knew I was doing menial work to pay for my studies and you still decided to meet for coffee?”

“Absolutely. I thought you had outgrown such low-level jobs with your doctorate you earned.”

“But you still have to have a level of respect for these people. They’re men and women who have shown the best within themselves even in such tasks as collecting trash.”

“Okay, okay. We can drop it. We’re not getting anywhere.” She consumed another espresso shot.

With all that he heard from Gara, Dr. Strong exhaled. He wanted desperately to show clips of folks changing tires, laying tar on roofs, and doing jobs that require actual human sense and not just some synthetic being or learned machine’s programming. He rose from his seat and extended his hand.

“I thoroughly enjoyed this exchange, but I don’t think we’re going to be compatible.”

Gara sat for a good while before she raised from her seat. She shook hands with the doctor and gathered her purse and left out of the door.

Dr. Strong asked for another cup of coffee and paid for it.