Humans, Restaurants & Technology Dependencies
Could we have a round of vodka mojitos, please? She holds her hands up helplessly. “So sorry, but I can’t get you a drink. I don’t have a Palm Pilot,” she says, as though she were informing us of some obvious and terrible disability, a disability so crushing that it prevents her from turning and taking three steps to the left to the service bar and speaking with the bartender.
“You have to have a Palm Pilot to place an order,” she explains before vanishing.
Several minutes later, a young man in a crisp white shirt bumbles up to our table. For a dozen seconds, he doesn’t look at us, but instead stares at the screen in his hand, stabbing it with a small, black plastic stick. “Hang on a second,” he says. “I’m still trying to figure this thing out.” Finally, he takes our order. The vodka mojitos appear in due course.
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