by Choire Sicha
IN JOHN’S MAIL there came a bank statement, for the period of June 22 to July 21.
His checking had 0.41 dollars. His savings had 0.85 dollars. His delinquent loan payments were 1,496.04 dollars. His Checking Plus Credit Line minimum payment due was 43.36 dollars. His annual percentage rate for interest on that was 15.25 percent. The amount of money subtracted from his bank account in that period was 2,581.07 dollars. But the amount of money he’d put into his bank account in that period was 2,272.72 dollars.
On June 14, he’d made a debit card purchase at a fast food hamburger place in the amount of 4.74 dollars.
JASON HAD BEEN to the same beach town once as well, he said.
“Oh my God, one time I went through the forest and I like totally hit my head into one of those branches and nearly lost my eye and I had to wear an eye patch for weeks but so then I went back home and I realized my wallet was totally gone and my eye was hanging out of my socket so I went back out there and I knew exactly where it was and I was walking in the dark and I saw these two guys and I’m like, you have my wallet, don’t you, and these guys were making out and they were like, no, we don’t, and I’m like, yes, you do, and the one guy says to the other, c’mon give it back, and then they gave me my wallet back. It was pretty amazing.”
AT THIS TIME, people still weren’t entirely sure of their origins. Most people throughout time had kept records, but they were always such confusing records. First, the records were so myopic and self-centered that they didn’t make much sense to people who came later, with offhand references that would make no sense after twenty or two hundred or two thousand years. And then, people made records that were created physically in an impermanent and shortsighted fashion, and many of these had deteriorated, or burned, or the machinery that could read them no longer existed. And then, if a history survived that, often it happened that these documents had been translated so many times, into language after language, that they stopped being intelligible.
And there weren’t many very early records at all. Many human scientists were convinced—by means of records of fossils, and because it had been noticed that animals that were isolated for long periods of time became distinct and novel—that people had been alive for a long time and that they might very well have slowly sprung from an animal, or a group of animals, quite some time previous.
But many other people did not believe this. Mainly theistic groups argued that schools should not be allowed to teach, as a theory, that humans might be descended from other animals.
Groups cohered around almost every idea—what people could do with their bodies, what people could do with the bodies of other people. People even disagreed at this time if the seas on the planet would rise and drown all the cities.
Because this sort of organizing was divisive, it was therefore important for social selection. Most people self-selected their friends based on shared ideas and behaviors. Groups of friends or lovers tended to agree, largely or mostly, on ideas about politics, or how to live, or about whether we might have come from animals, or about morals in general.
This tendency to self-select one’s social sphere, to gather around agreement, caused many cities to exhibit prevailing sets of ethics and moral codes. The City, for instance, while populated by diverse viewpoints, on the whole tended toward hedonism, and toward the legality and practice of abortion, which was a currently legal but not entirely popular medical procedure that terminated pregnancies. The City’s inhabitants tended away from religious practice overall, or at least tended toward diverse and conflicting religions, and so therefore knew that a tolerance for other viewpoints was in their self-interest. The City, in comparison to much of the rest of the country, tended toward appreciating difference rather than punishing it. And as a reflection of this, the Mayor, particularly for an extremely wealthy person, was fairly “open-minded,” believing firmly as a principle that people should have broad rights of behavior, even while believing at the same time that the government should and could limit behaviors. This was a somewhat unusual position, in the larger scheme of beliefs, and a mildly unusual position for people of his class.
Tendency toward this set of beliefs about freedom was more pronounced among people who had moved to the City from other parts of the country. And then a significant number of people in the City—about three million—were immigrants from other countries, and, very broadly, they tended to be more “conservative” and more religious. But these immigrants—again, most broadly—tended also not to mix socially with the people who’d come to the City from other parts of the country. The poorer of these immigrants encountered other kinds of residents at places of employment, largely, where immigrants often worked in service positions, at delis, restaurants, retail stores and in people’s homes, cleaning and/or taking care of their children. These positions were low paid, most often; sometimes they were “off the books,” which meant that the jobs were not reported to the government.
These were people who would not ordinarily associate with each other.
And then as all these different people assimilated into the City, they tended to see that they benefited from tolerance of difference because, as they may have been surprised to find, they were listed among “the different.” Most people, for instance, wanted to live near people like them, and so the City was composed of some neighborhoods that were diverse and some neighborhoods that were somewhat uniform. Some of these more uniform neighborhoods even had a dominant minority language. But then as people born to immigrants grew up in those little villages, they felt, quite rightly, that the City as a whole was theirs too, and they often moved themselves into neighborhoods of more diversity.
In the end, some people were relatively obsessed with where people came from, and some people didn’t really care at all, while others were figuring out where people were going in the immediate future, largely by moving and amassing capital.
It was the very near future they were interested in most of all; the human lifespan was not that long, and while some people captured capital for the benefit of their children and their children’s children, the influence that came with having capital was not particularly well exercised by the dead.
JOHN SPENT A nice enough Sunday at a party on Fifth Avenue with Fred, and this party was thrown apparently by some nuclear physicists who John and Fred agreed made the kid with craniodiaphyseal dysplasia from Mask look like Brad Pitt. That was a rude way for them to say that these guys weren’t attractive. But it was a fun party and they were all weird and losers and it was great. It was all hot out and they were outside. And so John texted his friends to come over too—and Edward showed up, having tagged along with them.
John was so mad, he wouldn’t look at him.
After that he didn’t make contact with Edward for a week. No emails, nothing. I hate him right now, John told everyone.
Edward pushes me off but he comes running back, John thought. So. He’s really cute, he’s really charming, and also he’s a mess. He’s looking for work. He doesn’t even have a bank account. But then John would tabulate the not-bad things: He had a life that was interesting, and John liked that. One thing he always worried about was that he would be smothered in a relationship, and he didn’t think Edward would do that. But Edward had his boyfriend, or whatever—did he?—and his weird situation, and John wasn’t going to deal with that. Edward needed to say: I broke up with my boyfriend. I want you—I want to be with you. And I’ll have my own place in th
e City. Those three things had to happen. Instead Edward’s message to him was simply: You blow me away like no one ever has before. And to that, John thought, well, whatever: not at all good enough.
JOHN TEXTED TYLER Flowers: Do you wanna go to the park? Texts were weird; they were intrusive in a way that Internet chatting wasn’t. Your mobile phone would beep or chirp; you didn’t have to be at the computer, waiting to be entertained. You didn’t access it at your leisure. Among forms of communication, it was the imperative mode. You: Answer me now. And Tyler responded, hmm I’m really busy this week, sorry.
So is he just done with me? John asked Fred. No, Fred said, he’s actually busy, he has a fuck buddy from out of town in town. Alright, makes sense, John thought, I won’t take it personally.
JOHN WENT BACK to work and Friday rolled around, and he met some guy named Chris, who worked at a fancy magazine. They met at a party. And Chris later messaged John on Manhunt, and as he did, he “unlocked” all his pictures stored online, thereby making them visible to John. John did have public pictures of his face on Manhunt that week, so this “unlocking” was Chris’s way of saying, “Hey! We know each other!” So they chatted a little. Chris wrote, I was going to ask for your real email. Chris said that he was having a party, and that John should come.
So of course John IM’d Fred, and said, hey, this guy Chris is having a party, do you want to go? And Fred wrote back, actually I am already planning to attend that party—and I’m going with Tyler Flowers.
John immediately emailed Tyler, to prevent a one-sided unexpected run-in. Oh my God, this week has been so crazy! he wrote. I can’t believe we haven’t met up! Anyway, I’m going to this party tonight, if you want to go, I’m really on the fence, but if you were going . . . or we can do next week!
And Tyler wrote back, oh, you mean Chris’s party? And John wrote back, oh yes, that’s so weird-funny, why don’t you meet me there, I’m meeting Jason, we’re meeting at Nowhere Bar at ten thirty and then taking the train, join us there! And Tyler said he would.
So the evening came on and John called Tyler to check in, and Tyler said, can’t we just take a cab? A cab would cost maybe twenty dollars. So John was firm: I’ll see you at Nowhere. It’d be ridiculous for you to be in the same neighborhood and not travel with me, so I’ll see you at Nowhere. Tyler relented.
So they all show up at Nowhere Bar. Basically all you could see in there was Jason’s bald head gleaming. You totally had to beg me to come here, Tyler Flowers said.
I insisted, I did not beg you, John said.
You had to beg me! Oh, I’m just kidding! Tyler said. John was having fun with Jason, even though Tyler was in this weird hostile mood. Tyler had three beers. It was finally late enough to wait to go to the party, and they walked to the R train.
“I can’t believe we’re taking the fucking train, this is fucking bullshit,” Tyler said.
“Just take the train, don’t worry about it,” John said.
“I should have brought the New Yorker,” Tyler said.
“You can go buy one if you don’t want to talk to us!” John said.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just need a drink, guys, I just need a drink,” Tyler said.
Jason and John kept looking at each other, like, what is this.
They got on the train; it stopped just a few stops later and wouldn’t go any farther. We can just transfer trains, John said. So they went and waited on the platform but it didn’t come.
“We’re just taking a fucking cab!” Tyler said, and stormed out.
They ran after him. He had gotten a cab.
“I don’t even know why we’re going over there!” Tyler said. “Whenever you go, it’s a disaster!”
Why had he chased this horrible guy? John wondered. The cab ride was fourteen dollars. John had something like two dollars. “What is this? You can pay with a card now? How do I do this?” Tyler asked.
He was staring at the keypad installed in the back of the driver’s seat. John hit all the buttons so Tyler could pay with a credit card. Tyler keyed in one dollar for a tip. And John said, oh, I have a couple dollars for a tip! And Jason said, yeah, I have a five here for the cabbie.
“No,” Tyler said. “One dollar is okay.”
They got out of the cab, and they asked, why one dollar?
“Everyone knows that,” Tyler said. “If it’s anything less than eighteen dollars, you tip one dollar.”
“Is this some rule from the nineties?” John asked.
“No, everyone knows that, and why should I give him more when it’s his job to drive?”
“Maybe because we brought him way out here?” John said.
“Whatever, I just need a drink, I’m sorry,” Tyler said.
The apartment wasn’t that big and was kind of crowded and eventually John was out smoking on this fire escape. He climbed back in and Tyler was there. I wondered where you were, I’m so much more relaxed, I don’t know why I was so worked up, I just needed a drink in me, Tyler said.
“Oh okay, no problem,” John said. So they all re-formed into a group and took off. They ended up at a terrible bar in the neighborhood. There were like six people in there. Fred, Jason, Tyler—and this random terrible guy, who was totally evil. They were outside smoking and John said, I’m experimenting with a new tennis grip, semi-western.
“What else would you use?” this guy said.
“Uh, what?” John said. And the guy started going off about how there’s really only one way to play tennis, there’s only one way to hold a racket, that kind of thing.
“Well, I grew up playing with a bamboo stick and crumpled up newspapers,” John said. He went kind of crazy on him.
They took the subway back, Jason and Tyler and John. Tyler and John were on the verge of making out. Finally! John thought. And then he saw: Jason, sitting across from them on the train, basically with tears in his eyes, watching them. And Tyler was ready to go, his stop was coming up. And John thought: Fine. Guess I won’t get off the train with him right here in front of Jason. So good-bye, John said, see you later!
And when John got home, he sent a text message to Tyler, just: “Heyyyy.” And Tyler wrote back, “Ha ha!” And John wrote back, “What’s up?” And Tyler wrote back, “Not much!” And John wrote back, “You were totally better after you got that drink!” And then Tyler didn’t write back.
But the next morning he did write back. “Sorry, I fell asleep, sorry I was such a bitch.”
What a complicated deal to close! Finally John wrote Tyler on Facebook and was like, when are you leaving town for that trip, let’s have a drink or a cheap dinner, just you and me. And Tyler wrote back, sounds like fun, Friday or Saturday. I don’t even like him, John thought.
THE IMMEDIATELY PREVIOUS mayor told the City to be afraid if they did not reelect the Mayor. This previous mayor now made all his money from speaking engagements, providing fairly useless advice to corporations and other cities on their safety, and also lobbying for companies that polluted the planet. If they did not reelect the Mayor, he said, they would be afraid to go outside and walk the streets. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he told a room of older people. “This city could easily be taken back in a very different direction.” He meant muggings, and poor people running wild against rich people, and who knows what, it was a vague threat, but he meant something.
FRED SENT JOHN an old Internet chat
transcript—from the summer two years prior. At the time, Fred had been actually kind of dating Tyler.
fred: who are you fucking these days?
sorry.that was a vulgar question
i need ac
john: a hipster, a blogger and a park slope boy
fred: how’s the park slope boy?
john: he’s the worst of the batch. so thank god he’s far away
fred: i’m also doing this hot hipster, but he’s leaving for europe in a week or two
john: i can’t maintain any relationship
fred: yeah. these aren’t relationships
john: they all fall apart, somehow
i know, but i long for lost fuck buddies
fred: yeah. all i want now is just somebody i wanna fuck more than three times
JASON SAW A guy on the train, going home. They made a lot of eye contact. They got off at the same stop—Jason was walking a bit behind him. Well, he kind of followed him, but in a way he hoped wasn’t stalkery. And then the guy met someone at the end of the block so Jason turned about and aborted mission.
When he got home, he went on the Internet, and he put up a “Missed Connections” post on Craigslist. That was a bulletin board for people who’d encountered each other but had no other way of identifying or reaching the other person. It was surprisingly effective for this kind of reunion. His post read something like: You were wearing a salmon cardigan and got off the train. And an hour after he posted it, the guy sent an email through the system and included his picture. His note said: I think you mean me? So they went for a drink, but a drink in the neighborhood, so it was convenient to go straight back home, which they totally did.
Then a few nights later, he texted Jason late, late, late at night. His text just said: “Sup.” Jason didn’t bother texting back.
CHAD AND DIEGO decided they wanted to move in together. Chad’s roommate was leaving, for one thing, and so it was a convergence of desire and logistics and economics. Way back in spring they had begun thinking about this and then Chad’s lease ended at the end of July. A friend of a friend of a friend of Chad’s was a sort of fancy but no-fee real estate broker, so she showed him the cheapest of her listings. They saw an apartment way out from the center of the City, and they really liked it—a two-bedroom for 1,200 dollars. It was on a two-block street called Regent Place. Not only was Regent Place in the running for the most unsafe place in the City, according to the random chatter Chad saw on the Internet, but the apartment next door to the one they’d been shown was the site of a major drug bust three months before. They regrouped. They wanted to be on the train that went to the neighborhoods where all their friends lived. It was important to John that Chad be accessible via subway.
