Very Short Story: Friday Night Mobile Marketing: Dublin 2012

Keith left the front door of his apartment and tweeted.

Keith: ‘OK.  I’ve left.’

Fachna: ‘Stuck in a lift, should be there in 20.’

Sophie: ‘I hate snow.  Who knows.  1 hour?’

Keith @ Sophie: ‘Come when the kids are down.’

Sophie @ Keith: ‘I’m hardly leaving when they’re running around.  Am I...’

Fachna: ‘It’s decided.  Goggins’ at 9.30.  So sick of this lift guys.  Something smells baaad and it’s me.  Not this time anyway! J’

Passing the Cineplex Keith was vouchered.  ‘Mermaids of the Caribbean with Bradly Armpit and Sterile Creep.   30% off with this voucher.  Offer till 9.30pm, Dun Laoghaire Branch.’  ‘Damn’, thought Keith.  ‘I need to leave BrightKite on so the crew can follow.  I’ll be voucher central by the time I arrive.’

He was right.  5 minutes walking - 5 vouchers.  One a minute.  Vouchers for tyres, burgers, holidays, a charity and bizarrely, free dog grooming had found his iPhone and entered it as he moved toward his local.  ‘How did they know I have a dog?’

Text from Sophie: ‘Where are you?  I’m at the back – smoking section.  Guinness?’ Reply: ‘Yep.  There in a bit’.  

iPod time.  Girl from Impanema retro-electro.  Free iTune with a Big Mac.  Quite good really, he thought.

Hitting Goggin’s he went straight to the smoking section.  Empty. Panic set in.  Did they go somewhere else without telling me? Text to Sophie: ‘Thought you said Goggins’ smoking section.  Where are you’ Reply: ‘Patience pet.  I’m on the loo.  Are they there yet?’  Keith breathed a sigh of relief and sat down.

‘Heya!’  It was Shelley. ‘Hey Shells.  Sophie’s in the bog.  Drink?’ said Keith.  ‘Thought she said an hour?’ said Shelley.  ‘Sophie O’Neil, not Sophie Sophie.  Look. Fachna’s stuck in a lift, but he’s on cam.’  ‘Hilarious,’ said Shell, and clicked ferociously on her screen.

Both Sophies arrived at the table at the same time and joined Keith and Shell. Fachna cammed from the lift with the help of Hotel wifi.  Keith sat back and surveyed the crew, taking the odd suck from his pint.

‘So.  Any news?’

There was a short pause while they all looked at each other, then at their phones and then they exploded with laughter.  ‘Not in the last 30 seconds ya eejit,’ said Sophie Sophie. ‘But we’ll keep you posted!’  Then each, in turn, picked up their respective phone from the table and started tapping.  ‘Another monosyllabic Friday in Goggins’,’ thought Keith and gestured the barman for a fresh pint.  ‘I should’ve stayed at home!’ Then he took out his own iPhone and joined them… each in their own respective personalized mobile silo lifeworld interconnected by messaging, tweets and status updates; separated by a few feet of table and a few drinks, or in Fachna’s case, a few miles and the wall of the lift stuck between the 14^th and 15^th.  Videos and pics passed.  Occasional snickers and the odd… ‘Get a look at this!  Have you downloaded this one?’ ‘That is so cool. Send a link.’  And then back to tapping.

Tweet: Sophie @ Keith: ‘This is so ****ing boring.  Let’s get out of here. Have some fun if u want to.’ Keith @ Sophie: ’15 mins.  Your place.’  Sophie got up suddenly and speaking as she left said, ‘I’ll see yous.  Don’t wait up.’ Keith @ Sophie ‘Kiss kiss – Mwah!’  Sophie @ Keith ‘J’

Keith was vouchered again on the way back to Sophie’s and annoyingly one was a ‘Buy 1 get 1 Free’ for Guinness at Goggins’.  ‘Reliability in a World of Change. Offer closes midnight.’  ‘Might have numbed the boredom,’ thought Keith.

Reaching the door he got a text from Fachna ‘Hey mate.  Out of the lift now so off cam.  Where are you guys? Physically I mean.’  Keith replied: ‘Sorry mate, you missed it, home now’.  ‘Bo**ocks,’ texted Fachna.  ‘What a Friday night that was!’ Keith felt guilty.  Poor Fachna.  So not fair on him.

But as he shut the door to Sophie’s apartment he heard a baby’s distraught cry.  ‘He’s up,’ called Sophie.  ‘Damn it!’  Keith looked up the stairs and listened as Sophie picked her infant son up from his cot, and carried him to the bedroom. He looked at the TV screen flashing away in the front room, and he looked again at Fachna’s text. 

Text to Fachna: ‘Feck it mate.  Goggin’s in 10 mins it is.  You need a Guinness. It’s on me.’