Excited chatter breaks out in the hall.
“As you may know,” says Patricia Team-Leader, “for some years now we’ve even matched up the life expectancies of our customers. And so successfully that social networks like Everybody are full of stories about QualityPartner couples who didn’t just die in the same year or month—of which there are many—but on the same day or even in the same hour. I think it’s a lovely feature, especially for older customers. You should definitely emphasize that.”
A few weeks ago, Sandra had edited a news item about a QualityPartner couple who died in the very same minute. However, they both died in a car accident that cut their lives short by thirty-two years, hence why some sticklers later commented that this very well-coordinated double death couldn’t possibly be regarded as a further QualityPartner success.
“Who of you is registered with QualityPartner?” asks Oliver, looking out into the audience.
Sandra hesitates. Only once she sees that almost all of her colleagues have raised their hands does she raise hers too.
“So, to all those who’ve been living under a rock,” says Oliver, “I recommend you sign up as quickly as possible. The registration and first partner are free! You can, of course, try your luck in the analogue world—but if you do that you’ll probably stay single. It’s so probable, actually, that our campaign should try to establish ‘analogue’ as a synonym for single.”
Oliver points toward a balding older man who is sitting next to Sandra. “You at the front, Anton Tax-Adviser, right?” Oliver asks in such a way as to imply he remembers the names of his employees, but of course it’s clear to everyone that his contact lenses have superimposed the name.
“Yes?” asks Anton.
“You didn’t raise your hand just then,” says Oliver. “Can I ask you why you’re not registered with QualityPartner?”
“I, erm, I’ve been married for seventeen years.”
“You see, I think that’s where the problem lies,” says the QualityPartner boss. “The old ad agency concentrated on singles, on analogues, without even questioning it. An unforgivable mistake. I, on the other hand, see all couples who didn’t find each other through QualityPartner as amongst our target groups as well.”
“For these people, the campaign should focus on the fact that there’s definitely a better partner for them out there,” says Oliver, before turning back to Anton. “Don’t you ever get that feeling sometimes? That you’ve settled?”
“No, actually I don’t,” says Anton.
“Then I can guarantee you that your wife does,” says Oliver with a laugh.
Chuckles from the audience. Anton Tax-Adviser sinks down into his seat.
“Just try it,” says Oliver, holding a QualityPad close to his employee’s mouth.
The contents of the device’s display are projected onto a large screen. As soon as Anton’s lips hesitantly touch the display, the system only needs 1.6 seconds, thanks to RateMe, to find the best possible match. Everyone watches as QualityPartner compares Anton’s calendar with that of the new partner and sets a first date for the day after tomorrow. The system also reserves a table at a suitable restaurant and displays the menu: cream of pumpkin soup, risotto with prawn substitute, and caramelized FaSaSu.
“Caramelized FaSaSu?” asks Oliver with disgust.
Anton nods with embarrassment.
“Well, make sure your health insurance doesn’t get wind of that.”
The audience laughs again.
“Anyway, one person who most definitely will not find out about your date is your wife,” says Oliver, swiping across his QualityPad. “She has plans to meet her friend Diana at the cinema on Fiveday. QualityPartner will let you know in good time when you need to set off home.”
To Sandra, it seems that her neighbor looks rather unhappy.
“You don’t have to worry,” says Patricia Team-Leader to Anton. “We may only offer you one person, but from the very beginning QualityPartner provides its customers with a fourteen-day returns policy, in case someone isn’t content with their new companion. The first replacement partner is completely free. But because hardly anyone makes use of it, now we even offer—and I think the campaign for the younger target group should concentrate on this—a premium service with a life-long return guarantee. This offer, called PartnerCare, is available for a very reasonable monthly fee. The best thing about PartnerCare is the automatic upgrades, because of course individuals change sometimes, and grow apart from their partners in the process. If that happens, we immediately suggest a new partner. Having said that, researchers have found that we humans don’t change as much as we used to, mainly because we’re only surrounded by people who think exactly the same as us. And I can tell you, not without an element of pride, that we have played our part in that.”
“Now, who of you would like to register for the new premium service PartnerCare?” asks Oliver.
Sandra hesitates. Only once she notices that almost all of her colleagues have raised their hand does she raise hers too.
Her boss looks at her. He nods. Without a word, he holds the QualityPad in front of her face. Sandra shuts her eyes, then kisses it.
PARTNERCARE
After work, Peter and Sandra meet in a restaurant that Sweetie has suggested. Nobody didn’t agree with the choice and thinks the restaurant is awful, so Peter has switched him on to silent. The restaurant was the first in the city to have only cultivated meat on its menu, or in other words, laboratory-generated meat.
“The meeting was so exciting!” chatters Sandra. “We’re doing a big campaign for QualityPartner. Did I already mention that I’ve jumped up two levels? Have you heard of PartnerCare? It’s a really exciting program. It can save people a lot of time that they would otherwise have to spend working on their relationships.”
Peter holds a forkful of steak up against the light and says, “Who would have thought that one day our food would be more cultivated than us?”
“You really don’t have any ambition whatsoever, do you?” asks Sandra.
Peter sighs.
“You’re at Level 10,” says Sandra. “If you drop down one more level, you’ll be Useless. You need to get your ass in gear!”
“I know, I know,” says Peter. “You’re right. But…”
“But what?”
“I mean, recently we were talking about having a baby…”
Sandra sighs. “Peter, I’ve just been promoted!”
“Yes, but I could look after the baby. It could hang out with me in the shop. I mean, for the most part there’s nothing to do anyway.”
“I have to keep at it now.”
“Yes, but…”
“We can’t afford an optimized baby anyway!” snaps Sandra. “And there’s no way I’m ruining my child’s life with a natural birth.”
“We could scrape the money together for the genetic improvement,” says Peter. Sandra is just about to respond when she receives a message. Her watch, her glasses, her bracelet, and her earrings all vibrate. She twitches her nose, and the message appears on her glasses: “A new notification from QualityPartner PartnerCare: ‘Hello, Sandra. A new, better partner at a higher level is now available for you. If you would like to connect with him, choose OK now.’”
Sandra looks at Peter. He gives her a friendly smile. She smiles back. Then she focuses her pupils on OK.
Sweetie whispers to her: “A good decision, if I may say so.”
A follow-up question appears on Sandra’s glasses: “Would you like QualityPartner to automatically set the time and location for a rendezvous with your new partner?” Sandra fixes her pupils on OK again.
“Is everything all right?” asks Peter. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”