TimeMixRs

“George, are you going to pull yourself together soon?” George heard Teri’s voice but his head was lying on the ground looking at one of his feet. Somewhere he’d also lost his shoe. Great, he thought. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he was a shambles again. The time dilation kept his parts whole, but the integration once stepping through the wormhole… He was still alive, but in chunks. A pile of parts on the floor was not the impression he wanted to give for their first date. Everything would snap back together like magnetic poles aligning once they got close, but getting them in the right place was the trick.

He sighed, 25th century dating “travel through time and enjoy the romantic historic settings” they said. “Leave Behind Dystopia for Utopia” as the ads went. No one mentioned the queasy sensation as you neared the wormhole entrance or what happens if you double over, retch, or trip as you step through. Not to mention if you managed all three at once. This was their first official date after meeting on TimeMixRs and, while their chemistry together was incredible, this falling apart and reassembly for the first few hours he could tell was wearing thin. Teri had been getting more impatient and terse with him. Dinner conversation was hard with reassembly his primary focus. At least he got over the initial fear and screaming hysterically after the second hour. George felt her stare boring into his back and heard her sigh.

“No problem… Just a few minutes more,” George panted. He twisted his neck around and could see her sitting at the table. He lifted his torso off the floor by extending his big toe. Ah ha!, that’s where that was. Half the battle of pulling yourself together, he’d learned, was figuring out what was where.

“Do you need a hand?” She reached toward him.

“Ha. You’re funny.” That was just a sample of the chemistry they had.

“No, really. Do you need a hand?”

“No. I’ve almost got this worked out.” He waved his pinky finger at her and felt it move behind his ear. Another piece of the puzzle came together.

“Uh huh,” she said in a bitter tone. George scowled, though more at himself than her. She was a beautiful woman and shouldn’t have to deal with such a pathetic man. George’s knee slipped back into place, sinew and bone rubbed against each other, sending a queasy tingle up the side of his neck below his ear. Grimacing at the macabre sight, Teri turned away.

The Moulin Rouge Relativity Mixer was in full swing around him. The rest of the time travelers ignored him and tried to have a good time. They had all made it through without the mess. Why couldn’t he keep it together? The last time he had a date with TimeMixRs, JoAnn was her name, the 1782 Versailles dinner was in full swing. It had taken 3 and a half hours to right himself and JoAnn had left without him. Her one star review dropped his profile to a dismal rating. One of the lowest the service had ever seen. If he didn’t get his ranking raised, he’d never get another match. His date with Teri needed to work no matter what. She deserved better, but with the sparse population of the 25th century, both their choices were limited.

“Well… are we still on for later?”

“If you can pull yourself together in time.”

“Okay! Working on it! Always been good with puzzles, ya know.”

“You’re only good for one thing as far as I’m concerned, George. Where’s that waiter? I need a drink.”

“Not sure, I don’t have a great view from down here.” He grunted the words out. She wasn’t actually asking him, he knew, but he thought he had to add something. She was being patient and polite. More than he deserved. Small talk was difficult enough under normal circumstances. Another piece slipped into place and he could move his arm and raise himself up on his side. Now he had a better view of what parts were where.

Teri flagged down the maitre d’. He appeared moments later with a glass and a bottle of Merlot, the newest wine cultivated just a decade before in 1855. George noticed maitre d’ patted her shoulder. The cheeky bastard. TimeMixRs warned about comingling time streams. He had half a mind to report him. Teri took a long swig of her drink as he found his other arm and it snapped into place. She downed a second glass of Merlot before turning back to George. “Hurry up, George.”

George nodded, “Still working on it.” Did she care, or just tired of the embarrassment of dealing with him?

“I’m hoping for a helping of Dessert tonight, George. A woman has needs.”

His left eyebrow shot up in surprise a little too quickly. Sudden motions broke the tenuous temporal bonds still realigning. It zipped off his forehead along the trajectory arc. He caught it in his palm and smacked it back on with a hollow thud. That didn’t sound quite right. Was his brain missing? He rattled his head around to see, but it seemed light. Then he spotted the brain under a chair.

“Do we have enough time?” he stammered. George inched toward his brain and felt his right eyebrow fall to the cool tile floor. He was so close to reassembly now and his eyebrows were sliding off?

“Time traveling, go figure.”

“Right!” The word slipped out accidentally. He motioned with his head, not wanting to ask for help. Teri picked his eyebrow up and nearly knocked him out, slapping it back on. It didn’t feel quite right, but he would make minor adjustments later. He’d pick up his brain after ‘Dessert.’ He cleared his throat, sat up and tried to sound confident and triumphant, “Finished, good to go!”

Teri smiled and downed her glass of Merlot.