Robert noticed a girl sitting by herself at a booth and went up to her. “Julie?”

“Yes. Robert, right?” She stood up and shook his hand. “Please have a seat. I hope you don't mind. I ordered drinks for us.”

Robert sat down and smiled. “Thank you. Is this your favorite restaurant?”

“Not really—just closer to home.”

“Oh, right, safe, and smart …”

She chuckled. “Yes. Nothing personal, but these Sync dates are totally automated. We've put all of our trust in a system to match our minds.”

“I understand.” Robert nodded. “You should be cautious …”

“Thanks. Have you been here before?”

“Oh, no.” Robert sipped his drink. “Honestly, I don't get out much. I'm too busy saving these days.”

She nodded. “I hear you. It's been tough with all these changes in the past decade.”

“Agreed.” He put his drink on the table. “Have you made many friends this way?”

She shook her head. “No. Unfortunately, it's difficult for me to find a match. I'm unique!”

“Hey, that's a great quality …” He smiled at her.

She blushed. “When did you sign-up? I haven't seen you on the Sync until now.”

Robert scanned his Chip's biographical information. “Almost a year now … You're my first date. Sync's filters default at forty. My Neural Rating is only twenty which is even lower than before. I'm still working on it but, in the meantime, I'm catching up with a Mutual Alpha Wave Growth Fund. I've outsourced ten percent to a crypto company, fifteen for research, and thirty to an IT firm for computations. I should reach twenty-five next month.”

“Oh, that's good! Three years for me. I'm fifty-two now, but that's because of my bad shopping habits. I keep falling for offers with deep discounts if I promise to outsource ten percent to their brand for a month. I'll bet I'm responsible for the design of an entire clothing line!”

He laughed. “Yeah, I'm surprised you're meeting me; twenty is sort of low, isn't it?”

She waved her hand. “Aw, that's nothing. I've been there … Besides, our brainwaves were such a great match. It would've been tragic not to meet!”

“You're right. I feel like we're telepathic already!” He winked at her.

She played with her straw. “So …” She trailed off for a moment and asked, “What did you do before you were Chipped?”

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“Neurosurgery.” He sighed. “With the advanced robotics and nanotechnology, we became obsolete sooner than those with blue-collar jobs. At least they're more agile and mobile over the current robots. The insurance companies viewed us surgeons as a bunch of malpractice lawsuits bound to happen. We couldn't compete with those infallible robotic tentacles and their laser-like precision.”

“Bummer!” She shook her head. “My cousin gave up her law practice because of blockchain Chip apps. She told me, nowadays, they can auto-create any contract, and they're protected in the Cloud-Brain network.”

“What do you plan on doing next?” She stared into his eyes.

“Ironically, probably robotics. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?” He chuckled. “How about you?”

“As you can see.” She tugged at her shirt and puckered her lips. “I was a model, but with these new computer-generated avatars, they read people's Chips and show whatever entertains or arouses them. Acting and modeling—totally dead-end careers.

“But that's okay. I think I'll just outsource myself till retirement. Maybe even hook up with a roboticist …” She winked at him.

A robotic waiter rolled up to their table. “Your orders?

He spoke first, “I'll have a steak and salad. What will you have?”

She whispered to him, “Are each of us paying our own way?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I'll cover us both.”

“Are you sure? What about your rating?”

“That's okay.” He pointed at his head while twirling his index finger. “I'll outsource forty percent on Mind Trader tonight. I feel kind of brain dead anyway …”

She giggled and said, “I'll have a fruit salad.”

The robot responded, “Very well.”

They watched it roll away before resuming their conversation.

“Still watching your figure?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, you never know, maybe someone wants vintage!” She smiled.

He sipped his drink and sighed. “We're becoming just like old cars … My father told me before he passed away that The Chips reminded him of ancient automobiles.”

“So sorry for your loss. But that's a weird statement! Why'd he say that?”

Robert straightened up and picked up his spoon. “My father told me when they were still around, the first cars were a novelty, then a luxury, and finally a necessity. You see …” He paused for a moment to place the spoon on the table. “Before you knew it, your neighbor had one. They moved faster and farther than you, so they rose to the top of the employment ladder ... So, then you also purchased one to keep up.” He stopped once more to place the fork and the knife next to the spoon. Then, he swapped them. “Each time cars improved, people bought newer ones to stay competitive.”

“Wow!” She looked at him astonished. “Your father was wise. I mean, my Chip's already outdated. There’s talk going around that they're making ones to automate our bodies”

He leaned back into his seat. “Really? Wouldn't that be awkward? I mean to have something control your body. That would be so creepy.”

She laughed. “Oh, it's not like that! The article said it'll put us in a dream state while it's happening. We can be anywhere we want. We can create our own worlds.”

He stared at the ceiling. “I guess that might be more appealing than feeling obsolete all the time.”

“I know, right?” She tapped her cup on the table.

“What could they possibly need from us that robots can't provide?” He gazed into her eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you mentioned blue-collar workers. I suppose instead of feeling like they're working so hard, they can lie on a beach and catch some rays, or maybe go skiing!”

“That's true. Maybe I should join their labor union and forget all about robotics. Paradise, here I come!”

They both laughed and toasted their drinks.