Influencer

Amylee Wilkins leaned back against the stylish Royce chair that adorned her living room. She’d selected it as part of her first round influencer-only purchasing options this week. There were some definite perks to being tagged as a Type-A Influencer, and fine furnishings showing up at her door for pennies on the dollar was definitely one of them.

She reclined, twisted, and sprawled. She shrugged her shoulders, arched her back, and stretched her legs. The texture of the fabric was excellent; they’d receive some high marks for this synthetic whatever-the-hell-it-is. She propped herself up by resting her elbows on the seat back and leaning forward. There we go, she thought. The back support was great, the posture was wonderful for casual reclining, and the temperature was kept exactly at her preference.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, and murmured to herself, What’s Crystal up to? Immediately, her TEAR implant queued up the latest whereabouts of Crystal Joyner, one of Amylee’s best friends.

The TEAR implant was that next step in the information revolution that had started about fifty years ago. Third Eye Artificial Resource Implants were the equivalent of knowing everything about anything at any time. Amylee had been implanted when she was six months old, so her entire consciousness was supplemented by this electronic workhorse. She was fortunate to have a natural aptitude towards trendsetting, which gave her the ability to work simply by being picky. Sometimes she still didn’t believe her luck.

Within a moment that was essentially imperceptible to Amylee, the TEAR implant replied back in her conscious mind, Crystal is about to leave a lunch date with Calvin. Amylee’s mind issued up a series of commands and questions: How did Crystal meet Calvin? Where did they go to lunch? What is Crystal doing later this afternoon? See if she’d like to go to the park to walk Pluto with me in half an hour.

Amylee’s TEAR again returned back to the ‘net, and started interacting with Crystal’s TEAR, along with other relative databases. Amylee was a high-access friend of Crystal’s, so her TEAR was granted deep access in to her personal journal notes (both the ones she created; and the ones her TEAR kept for her). Crystal met Calvin at a dinner party at the home of Marc and Vanessa Milbrae, on Saturday evening. You were invited but you declined due to your preference to go to the Cherry Room Club that evening with Shawn Mayer. Calvin invited Crystal to lunch yesterday afternoon and Crystal accepted. They ate at Westwood Cafe & Bistro. Would you like to see recent photos of Calvin from his public profile?

Amylee thought Yes, and leaned forward in her chair to look at the wall, which lit up to reveal images of a young man in his mid-20’s with short-cropped blonde hair, deep set green eyes, and a handsome smile. Just Crystal’s type. No wonder she said yes to his invitation.

The TEAR started back again, Crystal would love to meet you at the park in 25 minutes. Would you like to directly connect or simply confirm?

Amylee thought, Confirm, and jumped off the chair to go get changed in to her running outfit. There was a small hole growing in the ankle area of her right sweat pants leg, and she quickly murmured, Order new sweatpants. Latest color, style, fabric, and designer. The TEAR would interact with the Amazon ordering system and pick out the freshest pair of sweatpants and have them at her front door probably by the time she got back from her run with Crystal. Unless there was some new fabric trend that wasn’t in stock, Amazon would simply just create her sweatpants on demand at the shop down the street, and deliver them by courier. It was always nice to be a Type-A Influencer. She got a hearty discount simply by providing her feedback to everything she touched and owned. People loved her recommendations.

She grabbed the dog from his slumber in the kitchen, a small terrier named Pluto, and he whimpered for just a second before realizing that she was reaching for his leash. His tail wagged with enthusiasm as she slid the clamp on to his collar.

It’s good to be the pet of a Type-A Influencer!