Take the Plunge!

by Brad Ashmore

My ExWhy Pod vibrated. I yanked it from my pocket to be notified that Ellen and Jerry were about to stop by from their dinner date, that almond milk was better for me than dairy and so it had placed an order, and that the time had come to give scuba diving another try so travel had been arranged to the Bahamas.

I squirmed on the couch, fretting about the scuba trip. I had never considered scuba diving before ExWhy signed me up for lessons months ago. Those went well enough, I suppose, but they were in a local swimming pool. The showstopper came later: The open ocean dive. When the time came to jump, I stood on the edge of the boat, terribly miscast, unable to take the next step. I never jumped. But rereading today’s notification, I had to reconsider. Perhaps ExWhy was right and I shouldn’t give up.

I was wrestling with this when there was the expected knock at the door. “It’s open!” I shouted.

Ellen took two steps into the apartment, leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. Jerry, right behind her, closed the door and stepped over her without looking. Ellen took out her ExWhy Pod and became absorbed by ExWhy-centric activity.

“What’s up with her?” I asked Jerry, who joined me in the living room.

He paused by the open window to gaze at the cityscape, then plopped like a sack of potatoes onto his usual spot on the couch, slung his feet up on the coffee table, and exhaled. “We just came back from that new restaurant I suggested. It’s around the corner on Rosemont.”

I thought for a moment. “Oh, that one with the letters T.G.I.—”

He inserted: “T.G.I.Faraday’s.”

“Faraday’s? That’s an odd name... Sounds like another chain.”

“But it’s not. Big-time, this one is not.”

Ellen muttered to herself, “No-no-no. Damn!” which prompted Jerry to chuckle. He continued, “This one’s in a basement. Nice ambiance with the usual novelties hanging on the walls and ceiling. Typical American cuisine. But... and this is the kicker... it’s a Faraday Cage.”

I nodded along until he got to the last words. “Faraday Cage?”

He glanced back at muttering Ellen with a smirk that turned into a grin. “They really ought to have a disclaimer out front. Maybe customers should sign a waiver first. Some people were freaking out.”

“Faraday Cage?” I repeated, with emphasis.

“Oh, sorry, yeah. Within the walls and ceiling is a metallic mesh that blocks transmission of radio waves. So, no Internet access. Their tag line is: ‘Take a vacation from information.’ The upstairs lobby was crowded, standing room only, not with people waiting to be seated, but with diners interrupting their meals to come upstairs for information hits... like chain smokers stepping out for their puffs.”

As I processed this, Ellen cheered, “Yes! All caught up.” She stood, restored, and strode into the living room. A broad smile flashed when she saw me: “Hi, Chuck!” with a little wave.

I nodded. “Hi... Hey, how was dinner?”

She hardened. “Never again.” Turning to Jerry, she blurted, “Are you out of your mind?” Jerry burst into laughter, prompting her evil glare.

I played dumb. “But I heard the food was good... No?”

Ellen replied in a small voice, “Mine got cold.”

That triggered Jerry. “You couldn’t sit still! Up the stairs, then down for a bite, and then up. Jeez, you couldn’t even order without input from your ExWhy Pod.”

She shot back, “I wanted to enjoy my meal!”

“So did I!” he countered. “Maybe with some company!”

Ellen pivoted to direct her appeal to me. Her anger was barely contained, like rapidly boiling water in a pot covered by a heavy lid. Fierce sideways glances at Jerry were like angry blasts of venting steam. “ExWhy knows what I like and what each restaurant serves. It knows what I’ve eaten and keeps track of my calories and nutrition. It knows my weight goals.” She gripped the ExWhy Pod so tightly that her knuckles were white peaks about to pop through taut skin, if she didn’t crush the device first. She took a breath. “But that place keeps everyone in the dark!”

I nodded, innocent and sympathetic. “Oh my, so I’ve heard.” Jerry twisted toward me, looking more annoyed than perplexed.

Ellen cooled, as if confidence washed away the fury. “One more thing,” now directing a laser-like focus at Jerry with piercing eyes, “ExWhy knows who I like.”

“And what the hell does that mean?” barked Jerry.

“It couldn’t track our dinner tonight, but I just updated it, about everything. Newsflash: ExWhy knows that we are finished!” she announced, with a dramatic sweep of her ExWhy hand.

Jerry pointed at the ExWhy Pod, seething. “You’re going to stand there and tell me that thing is breaking us up?”

“It knows me better than you do! So much better! It would never recommend T.G.I.Faraday’s!”

“Of course it wouldn’t! When you’re down there, it can’t have your brain in its” — he struggled for words — “plastic grip!” He frowned momentarily, apparently disappointed with the metaphor, but then stood and announced, “Fine!” He marched toward the door as he shouted, “I hope the two of you will be very happy!” Then he swung the door open and flew out with a slam.

We stared at the closed door as dust settled. Although I had maintained outward composure, this drama sent my heart racing. I could see Ellen’s chest heaving as she caught her breath, but she didn’t appear to be sobbing. As we calmed, she turned to me. The ExWhy death grip was relaxed and she seemed uplifted.

She glided toward the couch and, without breaking her gaze, settled on Jerry’s place. Her face glowed. “How could Jerry have known?”

I tilted my head, which made her giggle, puzzling me further.

“He hoped the two of us would be very happy. How could Jerry have known that ExWhy told me I should be with you?”

My ExWhy Pod vibrated. I slipped my hand into my pocket to discretely peek. A relationship alert blinked: “Date Ellen!” against a gaudy backdrop of animated hearts and cupids. I jerked out my hand as if there was a scorpion in my pocket.

Ellen beamed with anticipation.

I slowly folded my hands in my lap, attempting to exude nonchalance. I hadn’t felt much attraction to Ellen. She and Jerry had been a couple for years. This was reason enough to keep my distance. And, even for my tastes, Ellen was an ExWhy addict. Jerry, on the other hand, not only shunned the device, but I had even seen him use a paper map. As far as ExWhy was concerned, he was off-grid except for Ellen’s updates.

“You’re acting coy,” she gushed. “That’s cute!” She clutched my hands and scooted next to me.

I wanted to be free of this woman, but ExWhy egged me on. Sure, Jerry was out of the picture now, and ExWhy, truth be told, knew me pretty well. But then I flashed back to that scene on the side of boat, looking between my flippers at slate gray, wind-rippled waves. I recalled ExWhy Pod’s message: “Take the plunge!” I had felt like the intrepid first penguin to leap off a glacier, pecked into action by the colony that feared a lurking killer whale.

Ellen gazed at me, dreamy, with those sky blue eyes.

My ExWhy Pod vibrated again. “Sorry... ExWhy.” I pulled my hand away to look. Ellen excused any ExWhy interruption. I peered into my pocket and was shocked to see: “Take the plunge!”

“Chucky!” she teased. I hated that name. She gave my hand an extra squeeze.

From somewhere unfathomably deep, I was able to access common sense, precious and rare. I responded with feigned disappointment. “Sorry, Ellen, but my ExWhy has someone else in mind.”

Ellen was crestfallen but then perplexed, probably by the apparent ExWhy inconsistency. I added, with the liveliness of a freed prisoner, “But it says we should still stay friends!”

She brightened: “So, who knows?!”

“Right...” My ExWhy Pod vibrated with its incessant command as Ellen stared with urgent expectation.

I needed a way out.

I withdrew the device from my pocket and then switched it off. Ellen’s face fell; she pulled away and sat back, deflated. Her lip curled into a little pout, and she fixed her gaze on an empty place on the table. It was chilling, as though I had turned off the muse that animated her affections for me.

I walked to the open window. She watched and I felt her eyes on me, like invisible fingers, clinging.

Then I flung the device out. She cried, “No! Why?”

I turned to her and declared, “It had to take the plunge.”