Sklip

So I was sitting with my friend in one of those new-wave cafes, you might recognize it, a corridor of shipping containers with fleshy interiors that mimic the inside of a human esophagus. I’m sure that you’ve seen it. It was featured in Voyer? Anyway, I was sitting in The Throat (we called it that; actual name is French and forgettable) with my best friend when it came time to talk up that startup called Sklip.

Sklip was about to go public. Sklip was on everyone’s minds, everyone’s lips. All the whales were investing in Sklip. They had secured Phase II VC funding in their first trimester of pre-launch alpha. The Valley was going gaga for Sklip. Everyone was Sklipping! Have you seriously never heard of Sklip? And all the other patrons sat up a little straighter, set down their avocado crumpets and fogged Assams, took a pause from their laptops, angled their eyes outward but their ears inward.

No, what’s that? My friend asked with her usual winking grin.

Well- I said with a theatrical pause, that one word lifting people up off their seats to gather milk and sugar from the counter behind us, to inspect the smudges of our window, to tie their shoes right beside us -have you ever seen a friend or a coworker who looked like they were just going through the motions, gliding over all, not depressed, just detached? They’re not living a life of quiet desperation, they’re Sklipping!

What was that? Sklip? My friend asked loudly, all the other patrons whipping out their phones and tapping away madly.

Yes Sklip, because it's nearly impossible to retain that youthful imagination of yours, all that vigor and passion, in the desiccating air of a hospital waiting room, confined cubicle, or insipid retail outlet. For all those dreary places, Sklip allows you the luxury of a high-functioning catatonia. Your body will do what you normally do, say what you normally say, your mind will be attentive, but your spirit- your soul -will be in a state of exalted suspension, protected completely from all the crushingly quotidian, all those claustrophobic non-life experiences that turn us all misanthropic.

But will I remember any of the events that I Sklip? My friend asked, right on cue.

You will, for a time, like an unpleasant dream that fades quickly upon waking. When you’re done Sklipping, you can start living! All the rest of your life is made more worthy, more glorious, like pulling weeds from a garden, brushing plaque off your teeth, ‘the reaming leaves the gleaming’, as they say, the only bits of life worth living.

Our time was up. I woke engulfed in The Throat. All the other patrons were back in their seats, quietly nibbling, typing, or staring out at the cement colored sky, not depressed, just detached, waiting for the fog to lift, waiting for life to begin. Long after we had gone, they were still waiting.