
Photo by Antonio Zugaldia
You hate people don’t you? You can’t stand them. Go on admit it. You yearn for an empty train carriage, dream of a deserted supermarket, crave a near desolate old fashioned pub, with a grumpy barman, real ales from well-kept pumps, a dartboard, ready salted crisps, packets of nuts pulled from a cardboard display, carpets with dulled circular patterns that you’ve only ever seen in this dying breed of pubs, which are so aged that you can’t even begin to fathom the original colours and not a whiff of the words ‘gastro’ or ‘artisan’ for 3 miles. In fact you can’t wait for the inevitable zombie apocalypse just so there’s no queues and you can violently club to death anyone that gets within batting distance, before going merrily about your business, you crazed psychopath. Well Google Glass might just be the thing you never knew you were looking for.
Google Glass is the soon to be released PC/smartphone that you can wear on your face but not in a ‘I will put this laptop through your skull’ type of way. (I’ve mentioned that you’re a psychopath right?) It’s basically a high tech monocle with a screen in it, allowing you to see extra information as you look at something instead of boring, unsatisfying, people filled reality.
So as you’re walking down the road, you can be in a video call with one or more people, there will be a big blue line to show you where you’re going, you can track the location of the person you’re going to meet, look at a restaurant you’re passing and have the menu and reviews pop up over its door and all you have to worry about is not twatting yourself into a lamppost, bus, river etc. and you can be recording everything you see for posterity and taking arty still pictures as you go.
I know, I know, that sounds horribly sociable doesn’t it. Well as you’ve got no imagination I’ll spoon feed you your ideal scenario, you massive psychotic baby.
You pop your Google Glass on and leave work. You get a message from Gary saying that he’s in this great pub that you’d love. So you look it up and find out it’s not only a wanky city bar full of banking scum in suits, drinking fizzy Atkins diet lager, but also Gary has neglected to tell you that Ben is there and you FUCKING HATE BEN! So you give the glasses a voice command “Ok Glass, tell Gary to go fuck himself” and head for the station. You bring up the locations of all your ‘friends’ in the immediate area. You see that John seems to be waiting for someone on your way, so you get the glasses to show you an alternative route, thus avoiding that ‘Hi, great to see you, haven’t seen you in ages, have you got time for a coffee? I’m meeting Glen and Sue, they’d love to see you.’ stuff that you absolutely hate.
And here’s the best bit. You get on the train and sit down in a seat all to yourself. Others get on the train and look interested in the seat opposite you, but then they notice that you’re a Glasshole and realise that you could be filming this right now and they haven’t done their hair or makeup and that they may fall asleep and you’ll broadcast embarrassing pictures of them. So they scurry away to another seat well away from your field of vision.
As you revel in your yawning leg room you start to feel quite chipper and feel that a drink is in order. So when you get off the train you head to the dank alleyway in which your local is situated. You run your glasses over the building and to your relief nothing pops up although you dread the day when this oasis of desolation finally trudges reluctantly onto the map. You push open the door and inhale the familiar musty dank that still smells faintly of Woodbines. The locals nod a despairing welcome, and you proceed to drink yourself into oblivion, huddled round the fire with three old men, describing your ideal way of torturing and killing a twenty something in skinny jeans and ironic knitwear. Thinking about it, it’s probably best that you avoid people and I’m glad technology can play a part in that.
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