Social Media Central

“Oh. I’ll feed them in a second. I’m just looking through Tammy’s wedding photos.”

“Have I met Tammy?”

I peered at the screen. A man sporting shoulder pads danced with a woman wrapped in a dress so tight, it was begging for mercy. Both looked like casting rejects from a 1980s prime-time drama about rich oil barons. As Mary flipped through the images, I noted the guests were more engaged with their screens than the couple who brought them to this moment. But at least a few paid the bride some attention by snapping her picture.

“I’m sure I haven’t met her,” I said. “How do you know her?”

“We chat online all the time.”

“Yes, Mary, but how did you meet?”

“Right here, on Social Media Central.”

The reddish feline pawed at my jeans. “Don’t you think it’s time to feed your cats?”

“In a moment.” She closed Tammy’s social page and looked at the newsfeed of a handsome man thirty years younger. In the reflection from the screen, I could see her smile like a child who’d discovered ice cream, followed with concern as if the treat had melted. “Tayler, how did you get into my apartment?”

“The door opened when I knocked. You know, you really shouldn’t leave it unlocked.”

“I didn’t mean to. Why are you here?”

“It’s rent day.”

“Is it Wednesday already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll leave the money on your dining table.”

“Okay.”

I left and climbed the stairs, returning shortly with some leftover chicken I was saving for dinner. As I walked in, Mary danced in stilted moves as if she was communicating in Egyptian hieroglyphics to the delighted gent on her computer. She swung her head toward the door, and our eyes met. Hers widened.

“Oh, Tayler, have you met Bernard?”

I waved at the screen. “Hi, Bernard.”

“Hi, Tayler” came the voice from the tinny speaker.

“Tayler’s my tenant. He’s lived above me for years.”

“And how do you know Bernard?”

“Social Media Central,” they both replied.I accidentally bit my tongue.

“Bernard is a…um, what is it you said you were, Bernard?”

“A dentist.” He flashed his pearly whites.

“I see,” I said. “Are you going somewhere tonight, Mary?”

“No.” She looked puzzled.

“It’s just that you’ve dressed up.” With her face turned from the screen, she scowled at me. I handed her the plate of chicken. “This is for your cats.”

“My cats? Why would I need chicken, Tayler? I have plenty of food for my dear little ones.”

“Tayler’s right,” said Bernard. “You look radiant this evening, Mary.”

“Really? Oh, it’s just something I threw on. I wanted to look nice for my friends. At my age, I don’t get a chance to throw on a frock anymore.”

“Then maybe we should do dinner together?”

“Yes, we could mirror meal.”

“Mirror meal?” I asked.

“Really, Tayler, you’re so out of touch.”

“How about steak, mash, and gravy?” Bernard asked.

“Yes, I can make that. I’d light candles but I don’t think my camera works that well with mood lighting.”

“That’s fine. I’ll bring the music. I’ll make up a special playlist and stream it through as we eat.”

“Then it’s a date. How does seven p.m. tomorrow sound?”

“I can’t tomorrow, my love. I have another appointment.”

“Not another woman?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m overdue with my taxes, so I’m linking up with my accountant in the evening.”

“We can have a late supper.”

“No, let’s mirror meal on Friday. That way we both won’t be dateless over the weekend.”

“Sounds perfect.” She placed the plate of chicken next to the computer. “Tayler, why is your mouth open like that?”

“Sorry, I’m in shock. Let me get this straight. Instead of going out for dinner, you’re both cooking steak and mashed potato and eating in front of your computer screens. Oh, brother. Let me take an educated guess. You two have never met face to face.”

“Tayler, don’t be so rude,” my landlady said.

“That’s okay, Mary. My son, Mike, is just like Tayler. Out of touch with technological trends. No offense, Tayler.”

“None taken.”

“Mary, my darling, I have to go. Tammy is trying to get my attention.”

“I was just looking at her wedding photos. Put her through. We can both talk to her.”

“I can’t really do that. She’s marked her contact request as private. Between you and me, I think she married prematurely. There were already problems in their relationship, but she went ahead with the ceremony anyway.”

“I understand, my darling.” Mary lost her smile momentarily. “I’m looking forward to Friday.”

“So am I, my love.”

“Bye, Bernard, until—” Her cyberboyfriend disappeared.

“Oh, damn these bad connections. The government needs to get this right.”

I placed my hand on her shoulder. She didn’t respond. “So was it love at first sight?”

“Not quite.” She seemed oblivious to my sarcasm. “But I knew there was a special connection the first time we video chatted.”

“Has he met the Amazing Twenty?”

My hand slipped from her as she stepped forward. “Tayler, he came up with the name. Without him, I wouldn’t have met the others.”

“Has he got legs?”

“Tayler!”

“I’m just asking. I mean, have you ever video chatted with him doing anything other than sitting down?”

“I think so. Hmm.” She rested her finger on her chin. “Oh, Tayler, why can’t you just be happy I’m in love?”

“So, Bernard is the reason the Amazing Twenty exists. How did you find him?”

“We told you. Through Social Media Central.”

“Yes, but through which application?”

She beamed.

“Oh I see. Through Lover Net. Does he blog about his pursuits?”

“He used to.”

“Does he blog about you?”

“Sort of. He calls me the sophisticated lady in his posts.”

I tried to keep a straight face.

“Oh, Tayler, don’t rain on my parade just because I have someone and you don’t. Love will tap you on the shoulder one day. Isn’t that what I always say to you?”

I missed the landlady I used to dine with—the woman whose wisdom had turned to mainstream quotes since she discovered Social Media Central. I wanted to say, “Step into the real world,” but there was less and less real world to step into.