PART II
I remember the second time I saw Jack,
the day of our first date.
Oct 15, 2025
4:00pm
The glaze that day was runny.
Pink icing had striped my shoe. I stared at it.
“ding!”
Damn obnoxious door.
I looked up. Heart fluttered.
Jack.
Their voice grew softer as they sauntered closer.
“Hi…so do you like working at the donut shop?”
I feel like I stuttered, “….It’s money…and study time”.
Jack had this foolishly sexy shuffle, left right, then skipped a beat, and right left.
Without losing eye contact, “I’m taking you to Dim Sum after work”.
“Huh?”
“Dim Sum.”
“Ohhhhh-K?” I definitely remember stuttering…
“Yes.” Their gentle insistence!
Jack winked. And left.
And that’s when everything started.
When Jack turned around–and I saw the back of their vintage T-shirt.
“Not your keys, not your coins“.
6:00
My sales were uploaded to the central server and I was free.
6:01
I was already out locking the door and Jack tried to sneak up on me.
“Ok, Dim Sum?
I pretended to be surprised,
“Ah! HAHA. Ok…but only if you tell me ’bout your T-shirt…”
Jack PJ’d (photon-jected) their GPS coordinates.
“Ok…what do you want to know?”
We had started walking.
I just let myself be blunt. “How are you feeling safe wearing that?”
“I wear this in active protest. Remember civil disobedience?
“Yes, with longing,” I remember replying.
Jack said,
“I actively protest the mesmerizing messages we were getting before the Central Server Task Force told us that it would be impossible for the market to recover without the hand offering equality and stability, aka, “the big dupe’.
Also, I simply wear this T-shirt in homage to a day when we had the right to choose. We fell for the narrative that self-sufficiency “on the Central Server” was a super freedom to replace real experienced freedom bought by human blood, lives, and sweat, like it was going to be different for us than anyone in history.”
“Wow..ok..I guess you answered my question.”
I was trying not to say my next words too harshly…and was saved by us having approached a nice Dim Sum place.
“….Dim Sum?” (Jack had opened the restaurant door and a waft of hot rice and sweet mayo made me smile)
I couldn’t help but notice the Maneki Neko Cat in the window, beaconing with his paw up.
“Oh, Purrrr…the sound of the machinery of the earth.”
Jack laughed.
I have never forgotten that laugh..nor what they did.
Bending down with arms bowed, they worshiped,
“Oh great cat, I pray for a return of good fortune for the human, in freedom of spirit, mind, and independence of body and wealth.”
I remember wanting to know Jack forever.
We headed to a table to sit down and the “superserve” bots followed us,
“Two Dim Sum. That is all”, Jack ordered.
I ordered the same. The bots left.
Jack said, “Do you know what Milton Friedman once said? “I am convinced there should be private currencies. Many. With competition. Not just money controlled by central Feds and state banks.”
I tried to get my words out with nominal poise, “…Slow burn. People didn’t know their options,”
“Yes,” Jack had said, ” the trees looked like trees, the path looked like a path, self custody adoption was minimal because theatrics were masking its powerful need and capability to every human on the planet and the onboard seemed too steep..even though it really wasn’t.
“I’m still looking at your shirt and wondering ….are they crazy or a revolutionary?”
Jack smiled again,
“I’m not a brilliant revolutionary like Vaclav Havel, but I still own an exchange and I’m grand personed in, from the days when a money transfer bond was only $30,000.”
“Oh. But I thought they outlawed exchanges?
“Yes, the system of -isms did”… but I own it on the block. I’m just currently not exchanging…waiting for the coup.”
“Coup?”
A super-serve bot arrived for payment…so I never heard Jack’s answer.
The bot held out the bio-scanner to pay. We both looked at each other.
“Dutch?” I said?
“Dutch,” Jack said.
I scanned my finger first, then Jack did…or tried.
7:13 pm
That moment was the beginning of our incredibly mad last 3 years, but also the abrupt end of my first date with the legendary Jack Buldas.
The globally dreaded red light
beamed a fear-inducing glow on the scanner.
“Oh ha, please try again”,
Jack had a Cheshire cat grin and invoked the Maneki Neko move that really would have engineered an anti compliance protocol effort in me if I had been an employee at the Dim Sum Restaurant.
But the red glow wasn’t just a color anymore.
It was a social legal panic button.
“Human, come with me. ” The superserve bot said.
I remained calm. { BCSP, or, Bot Compliance Security Protocols was a required class for all employees of any front facing business. I have taken every upgrade. 1.0 in 2025, 2.0 in 2026, 3.0 just came out this year.]
“Yeah, ok.” Jack seemed calm.
But then, and this is when I turned on my record mode.
I play this over and over when I am sad and miss Jack.
7:24 pm
Jack looked at me and started singing,
“They fear today’s evening
They fear tomorrow’s morning
They fear today and everyday
They fear the future
They fear the past
They fear heart attacks”
Another bot arrived. Jack stood and walked backwards, looking at me, singing….
They fear their own castle ghettos
They fear the truth
They fear the freedom
They fear democracy
They fear The declaration of human rights
SO WHY ARE WE AFRAID OF THEM?”
Jack was gone.
I had asked GPT 12 first thing on my body comp about the song he had recited.
I knew not to ask G12 where Jack was.
So I asked where the political prisoners are sent this week, quoting directive 606 for authority which I got access to from my compliance training at the donut shop.
G12 replied.
To be continued…..
Look for Part III of Donuts and Crypto in the Nov Edition
Read Part I on Page 26 of the June 2023 Sentinel Edition at: https://issuu.com/thepacificsentinel/docs/print_tps_june
Art by: r3InV3nTyour53lf
