„No Sarah, honestly, you don‘t want to come. Just trust me, it‘s not your kind of place. No, seriously, that‘s not a good idea. It‘s not going to… Sarah? Are you still there? Sarah?“
She‘s gone. And she doesn’t let me call her back. Must be absolutely totally determined to come. That‘s going to end so badly!
My friend Sarah – her terms, I would rather call her an acquaintance – is fine to go to the gym with. The gym, that’s where we met, bonding over the chronic dysfunction of the showers. We also danced our lungs raw a couple of times, at a venue catering mostly to a younger public. That was great fun. Cinema has been known to work, too. If we find a movie we both want to watch, which happens around twice every five years. We’re not close, not really.
When I moved to Stat-City, I was glad Sarah offered to store the items that exceeded my personal stuff allocation in her cellar. Yes, I‘ve been cheating. Yes, I do know that‘s not how you are supposed to start your new ascetic life. Everything exceeding the personal stuff allocation needs to go. But there are worse offenders. I at least don‘t use undeclared funds to pay for storage! Sarah does me a little friendly service, no big cheat, no problem, hopefully. Would still prefer her not to mention my excess stuff it in the presence of other Stats.
Her coming over, that‘s a problem. When I described Stat-City, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, Sarah was only mildly interested. She‘s not much of a numbers girl, might well not have grasped the full meaning of the Stat-City concept.
It‘s very simple, actually: Each of us is entitled to as much of everything as corresponds to our share of the world population. And the everything in this equation has to be sustainable. Sarah‘s reaction to me explaining this revolutionary concept was „That sounds fair, good idea.“
Has she even got the faintest idea what this means in practice? How little? How is she going to react to my cell of a room? To the lack of amenities? To the restrictions on the use of potable water and energy? She does love long, hot showers. See my hot water allocation for the year go down the drain in one weekend.
At least Sarah won‘t mind the food, and that meals are taken at the canteen. She‘s no big eater, always on some diet, always complaining about being tempted by evil shops and restaurants to eat too much cheap junk food. Won’t happen here. She has been through at least two vegan phases I know of, one more won‘t hurt her. Me, I‘m so missing cheese, and yogurt. Would never have thought I would. But I do. Very much!
…
“Bye, Sarah, bye, Carlos! Wish the two of you all the luck in the world! Have a great time! Bye, bye…”. The door has long shut, the train is picking up speed. They haven’t been able to hear me for a while, we’ve already left the station. Time to take a seat and a deep breath.
To think that three days ago I spent a sleepless night worrying about how to get Sarah safely and sanely through a weekend in Stat-City. And look at me now, joyfully – yes, joyfully, I’m done lying to myself, for this life, for a couple of weeks at least – rolling towards her flat, glad to reconnect with normal people leading a normal life. Stat-City sounded so great on paper…
It’s her thing with Carlos that did it. Sarah is totally devoid of principles, she doesn’t do abstract. But she’s good at the falling in love. One look at Carlos, when he handed her a second helping of marinated tofu – mental note never ever to touch that stuff again, never liked it -, and she was hooked. Went all in straight away, like going to bed with him right in that first night. She told me over breakfast that they’d spent the night talking, and she didn’t even blush, the naughty little liar.
According to Sarah’s tale, Carlos explained Stat-City so well that she “just had to stay”. Except you can’t do that, just stay. It’s more like a job application process. Stat-City picks you. I used to be proud to have made it in. Sarah desperate to get in, Carlos keen to get her in, and well versed in the ways, me nurturing some doubts about some of the rules… One word gave way to the other and by Sunday morning we were waiting for the verdict of the Stat-City Mind.
Never figured out if this Stat-City Mind is people or an artificial intelligence or both. It’s the supreme adjudicator, makes sure we stick to the rules. The Stat-City Mind agreed to our splendid plan, and I’m out. Never no more high-tech gardening and food processing for me, hurray. Sarah inherits my role and my cell, in case she tires of spending the nights in Carlos’ bed, glued to his lips and whichever other body parts she fancies. I take over her apartment and find me a job to pay for it, including some arrears Sarah had been running up because she had been between jobs for a while.
Rarely felt so giddy and empowered. I did Stat-City, know what it would be like to live in a fair and sustainable world, and can spread the word: Girls and guys, it’s possible, we can do it, yes we can. Just make sure to bring your romantic interest. If that part is fine, the rest is easily bearable. Just look at Sarah and Carlos, may their love last forever!