(Dis)Connected

Photo by Ed Yourdon

Derek sipped his morning coffee as he climbed the stairs from the subway to street level. The cold winter air made the people climbing the steps in front of Derek shiver and he silently wondered about weather conditions. Derek's eyes blurred for an instant as a tiny processor implanted in Derek's cranium accessed the City of Toronto's intranet and retrieved the local weather forecast. 

Within seconds the current temperature and weekly forecast were projected onto the digital contact lens in Derek's eyes and for an instant filled his vision with translucent numbers and a picture of a cloud being pushed by wispy lines. Looks like it will be a windy day Derek thought and he felt the heating units in his jacket, shoes and gloves activate to compensate. Derek smiled to himself as the words, "Please button-up your jacket"  flashed in his vision and looked for a place to settle his coffee mug and briefcase so he could do just that.

The weather forecast disappeared and a street view satellite image of the Yonge and Dundas intersection appeared highlighting pockets of low-density foot traffic where Derek could button-up his jacket with ease. However, the flood of bodies rushing out of the subway along with Derek made it all but impossible to navigate the busiest intersection in Canada. Despite his best efforts Derek found himself being pushed and shoved until he found himself hugging a wall near the Eaton Centre. 

After a few minutes the tidal wave of people subsided. Breathing a sigh of relief, Derek noticed a blue directional arrow floating in the air in front of his face, pointing left. He looked at the arrow in disbelief before realizing that it was the result of an update to the navigation system in his cranial processing unit. Turning his head to the left, he saw the arrow slide to the ground and elongate to indicate the path he should take so that he could settle his coffee mug down and button up his coat. A satellite image appeared and showed the path that Derek would be taking to arrive at his stop-over destination, a Starbucks coffee shop, and then his office building which was nearby. 

As Derek started walking several notifications appeared in his field of vision providing updates from the many social networks to which he belonged. He found himself grinning at a video of his niece taking her first steps and made a note in his calendar to call his brother after work and congratulate him.

"Excuse me sir."

"Huh?" Derek snapped out of his reverie and quickly looked around. 

"Do you have some spare cash?" Derek stepped back on reflex as a man moved an upturned palm, blackened by dirt, towards him.

"Uh, look. I," Derek patted his coat pockets pretending to look for his wallet. The words Call the Police flashed in red in his field of vision.

"Don't have your wallet with you eh?" the man smiled revealing crooked and chipped teeth.

"Sorry," the elongated arrow curved sharply away from the man, crossed the road and continued up the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

"Hey, you're letting all the heat out," the man stepped toward Derek, his eyes as wild as the tangled mess of hair on top of his head, and grabbed Derek's open coat. "Let me button this up for you."

"No," it came out as a unintelligible whisper instead of an authoritative shout as Derek had intended. Call the Police continued to flash in his field of vision but his smartphone was sadly stored away in his briefcase.

"There," the man stepped back and Derek realized that he was unharmed. In fact, the stranger had only buttoned up his open coat, "now you won't have to charge your coat's batteries all morning," the man said and flashed his crooked teeth again.

"Thanks," Derek whispered again, unable to find his voice.

The man nodded and turned to walk away.

Derek stood stunned in the middle of the street as his mind tried to process what just happened. News reports of muggings and stabbings appeared in his vision but he dismissed them. This man wasn't violent, despite his appearance. Next his recent bank statement appeared followed by a list of expenses. The cranial processor performed a calculation of disposable income available and presented it alongside statistics of alcoholism and drug addiction in Toronto's homeless population. Giving money may not be the best way to repay the man for his kindness. A slew of close encounter stories appeared in Derek's vision next, and showcased Torontonians personal experiences with homeless persons. 

Derek almost finished posting his own close encounter story to an extranet social board when his cranial processor simulated the small bones in his ears to create an alarm chime that only he could hear. Derek gasped as he noticed the chronometer flashing in the corner of his vision. He was going to be late for work!

The stranger, who had walked only a few steps away, watched Derek break into a sprint towards Bay Street and chuckled softly at the young man's misfortune. There are worst things than being poor he concluded and smiled, crooked teeth and all, at the sky.