[Author's Note: I'm taking a break from /r/WritingPrompts. Instead, I want to expand/combine a couple of the existing posts. This will continue from from where yesterday (Mo Goes To Work) left off.
Also, I've updated Mo Goes To Work because I really wanted to add a conversation to it. This constant self-editing will be a hallmark of this blog. Get used to it.]
All of this was going through Mo's head as she lay in bed the next morning, looking at the ceiling, but really looking at the message from 'mister vacuum waste' overlaid on the cracking drywall suspended above her. NEED UR HELP MO. It glowed in the middle of her vision. She brought up a new browser and ran a search on 'PMmeyourvacuumcleanerwaste'. As she expected, it was a two day old account on TF+. That was not a point in favor of responding. On the other hand, the message that she had received was the only message that that username had sent. If it were a real scam, then the same message would most likely have been blasted to a shload[3] of people. It appeared to be an account created just to send this one message to her. That gave it a certain authenticity that decided her. Mo responded: HOW SO?
She then got out of bed and went for the coffee. Sandra got up earlier and always made the coffee, though it was usually cold by the time Mo dragged herself into the kitchen. Before she had had a chance to get the cup into the microwave, PMmeyourvacuumcleanerwaste responded.
PMMYVCW: NEED TO MEET IRL
Mo (MoDeMoMoMo): WHO RU?
PMMYVCW: NOT ONLINE. MEET?
Mo: WHEN? WHERE?
PMMYVCW: TODAY NOON. BLUE BEAR.
Cleaner Waste guy wanted to meet her at the Colorado Convention Center. Mo glanced at the clock on the microwave: ten-thirty-three. She had forty-five minutes to make up her mind. The rest of the time would be spent getting there. If she went.
Mo: MAYBE
PMMYVCW: REALLY NEED U. PLEASE?
Mo: MAYBE
Mo: HOW KNOW U?
PMMYVCW: ILL FIND U
Mo: MAYBE
Mo closed the TF+ app before anymore messages could get through. She may not be able to shut down her entire system the way the luddites with the handhelds could, but she could kill parts of it. It had always been enough. Well that along with the adblocking and her corporeal firewalls.
She took her coffee into the bathroom, shoving some of Sandra's hair care products to the side to make room for it on the sink counter. She stared at herself in the mirror. Brown eyes, not too red but sunk into semi-bruised just-woke-up sockets: check. Brown, shoulder length hair in desperate need of a brushing: check. Dusting of freckles on skin that does not see much sun: check. Thin lips: check. Nose with knot on its bridge from a deviated septum: check. Cheeks that always need more blush until they have way too much: check. Tattooed circuit lines the color of an oil slick making a Celtic knot butterfly on her cheeks thereby removing the necessity for any blush in the first place: check. Neck, body, arms and legs: check. Another day of being Mo. Not that she had a choice.
As Mo used the facilities and started putting herself together for the day, she mulled over going to meet Mister Vacuum Waste. The first and most important question as far as Mo was concerned was not who was this guy/gal/bot. It was what do they want from me? What the aich-ee-double-hockey-sticks did anyone need from her? Especially something that required a In-Real-Life meet up? She was just a waitress living in Denver who spent too much of her meager money on PTN upgrades. She had born and raised in Colorado, had graduated from Stapleton High School[4] with mediocre grades and had been bouncing around the greater Denver Metro ever since. There were a thousand like her within the surrounding square mile. Mo had no illusions as to how important she was in the grand scheme. She even saw her realistic world view as one of her few real strengths.
But the only way that she was going to find any of that out was to go to the convention center and meet whoever this was. Was she really that curious? In the shower, Mo decided that, yes, she really was. She should change her ID to CuriousCat, but not really as there were probably thousands using that ID already and no one wanted to interact with CuriousCat45623. Instead, she'd go stand under the Blue Bear and see what happened.
[1] The Wiki Wars of 2020 led to the on-line demise of several websites and the slander of several million celebrities, politicians and corporations (still legally people). Wikipedia articles changed as quickly as the browser refreshed, WikiLeaks published lists of page editors (mostly bots) to whomever cared, Urban Dictionary added their own brand of definitions to the mix and the public stopped checking any of it in droves. However, the need for an on-line site-of-record was considered an important enough resource that a coalition of daily newspapers, led by the UK's Guardian, took over the task with two small changes: they limited the editorial staff to their own reporters, and they added hyper-targeted advertising to help pay for it all. As a result, the slogan is no longer "The Free Encyclopedia", but now "The Encyclopedia You Trust(R)."
[2] A visual pop up that hovers in the target's peripheral vision, waiting to be noticed. When it is, a data bomb of some sort is perpetrated on the target's PTN, usually dumping all system files and logs to a remote server. To avoid this, people without advanced blockers are often seen to swivel their whole head, sometimes even shoulders, instead of just their eyeballs when they focus on something new. This practical blocking technique has been called "Phish Neck" by those who have invested in the virtual blocking software.
[3] Recognized by the ISO as a unit of volume equivalent to ten butt loads which are in turn recognized as 0.75 liters, the average volume of a two year old child's bowel movement (yeah, I researched this. Researched it with my ASS!!). It is unfortunate that this does not convert cleanly to the number of usernames that might receive a phishing scam.
[4] Go Knights! Because nothing says progress like a blade wielding, iron mask wearing symbol of medieval oppression.
