Monday Afternoon, Late

[ten_sans_chips]

The madness that had been last week had finally cleaned itself up, and John decides that he can finally get around to showing Susan a few things, as he'd promised. He calls her on Friday, uncertain as to when they'll be able to meet. But apparently late Monday afternoon works well enough, and he heads to City Hall to meet her.

Comments

[queennomore]

"Just black, thank you," Susan replies, her voice pitched to carry without being anything so crass as a shout. "What's on the agenda for our evening, John?"

While he's gone, she takes a moment to just examine the police box.

In the middle of the living room.

Collector's item or not, personal significance or not, it's a rather intrusive piece of art.

Then again, pictures of soup cans are apparantly art these days, so it's entirely likely that a lifesized replica of a police box is a conversation piece for the society set.

She's never going to catch up on all the new social guidelines, but once again she reminds herself she doesn't really need to know all the space in between - she just needs to know what's in fashion right now.

A trip to an art gallery is probably a good idea.

[ten_sans_chips]

"Well..." He reenters carrying her coffee and his--both in very nice identical china with saucers, nothing too fancy but nothing as gauche as a coffee mug--and a Macintosh laptop. "I thought I'd show you the latest in computer technology, start you out nice and slow with something easy. I think I threw the films a little too hard at you."

She can't get in the TARDIS, so frankly, he thinks, she can stare at it all she wants...

[queennomore]

"The films were, perhaps, a little much to take all at once," Susan agrees, accepting her coffee. "I've had some experience with computers at work - I can use a basic word processor, and I know how to Google."

Or Gooooogle, or Gooooooooooooooooooooooogle. The amount of 'o's in the word seem to vary. It's amazing, though - she can just type in the name of the person she wants to learn about, and it brings up newspaper articles, people's recordings of their individual experiences, even sometimes things written by that person themselves.

She's had it explained to her that the internet links computers all over the world, but she's very conscious about security. Her own notes get typed up on the word processor, just as if it were a typewriter, printed and stored in a locked filing cabinet. Nothing she would be reluctant to have seen publically is kept on her computer, so Gooooooogle won't be able to find it for others to read.

[ten_sans_chips]

"They taught you to use a search engine before anything else? I suppose that's useful, and it's good that you know how to do basic things. Like...turn the machine on. And that you're not afraid of it. Was there anything in particular that you really wanted to know? Perhaps...online shopping? You can price things before you go out to buy them, have them delivered to your house. Do you have a credit card yet?"

If he had any idea what she knew about the Internet, he would probably laugh his head off.