Re: Diner: Michael/Janis
"It seems like the better way to go is grow a new one, because how do you tell the robot arm what you want? You should be in biology." She was teasing him and made it clear, propping her chin up on her right fist and watching him doctor his coffee with no comment.
She listened, and wondered what he meant by "rough." He was good-looking, which she was better able to appreciate in her current form, and well-spoken, which suggested he should have handled public education in stride. Perhaps he was over enthusiastic and a poor judge of people. Or perhaps he was better at hiding how smart he was now. Either way, she was not sympathetic. In high school, he had been as popular as a fast-talking rose-glasses could be. She thought about it with fondness. Those bell-bottoms.
Robot wars, he said. What the hell was a robot war? The things these kids diverted themselves with in college. It used to be a political hotbed. Now they played with toys. The words "VA hospital" snapped her attention back to the present. "A... bingo?" She asked, doubtfully.