A day in the life of a New American 64

6 a Woken by the Common Alarm loud as usual. Shower water cool as usual. (Am not complaining.) Did not shave as this is the very day scheduled for my conversion to Islam and I’ll have to grow a beard.

6.30 Ate a salad from my own mini-refrigerator. Got the bed into the wall (mechanism now fixed), so able to lower table and eat comfortably sitting on the chair.

7.00 Bicycled to work. Timed myself. 25 minutes from the Unitarium to the Ministry, bicycle hall to bicycle hall. Enjoyed the ride today. Lovely weather thanks to the City Council finally achieving its goal of carbon dioxide reduction to lowest level in the state. Saw that they’ve begun to remove the dead trees along Michelle Obama Avenue. Larger sign over main door must have gone up overnight: New America Federal Ministry of Tolerance.

8-12 noon. Productive morning. Found an intercepted email from an 80-year-old woman to her son in the Progressive Army Pre-School Sex Education Division complaining about getting no treatment for her heart condition. They just don’t get it, these oldies, that they’ve had their time and resources simply cannot be squandered on keeping them alive. Stupid really. Obstinate. What are they clinging to life for when they’re of no more use to the People? Launched the prosecution of both of them as the son has not reported receiving the complaint.

12 noon. Ate a salad in the Ministry Food Space. Also today both slices of Pleistocene Loaf. A hard chew. Still not used to the taste. (Am not complaining.)

12.30p Had to search for nearly twenty minutes of Love Hour to find someone to copulate with. Looked first for a same sex partner as per regulations, but eventually had to settle for a womin. Her living unit no nearer than mine, and time running out. Copulation Hour always a rush as regular partners are forbidden and search always takes time. (Am not complaining.) So we went to the Ministry Love Annexe. Every cubicle engaged. Had to wait ten minutes. Then she made me use a condom (the Free Dispenser was working) even though she was on the pill, because, she said, she knew how unreliable the Pharmaceutical and Birth-Prevention Department was as she’d once worked in it, and also from her own experience, having had seven abortions in the last three years. She talked too much, actually. And it amounted to complaining in my opinion. Am wondering whether to launch a prosecution. Would have to find out her full name and Unitarium. It wasn’t an A-class experience. I signed off on a  B- on the Records Chart. She signed off on a C-, which I thought was just plain insulting. Yes, a prosecution will be the honest thing to do.

1–4  Not productive. I suppose I was a little over excited about my conversion coming up. Confined myself t0 searching for the word “freedom” without result. Had no time to look for “Constitution” or “patriotic” or “gun”.

4-6  Off early from work to go to conversion ceremony. Actual conversion took only a few minutes. Recited the first shura of the Holy Koran aloud, and bingo! I was a Muslim.  But then there was buying a prayer mat (special allowance in my cash packet this month for that as conversion is increasingly encouraged), then prayers and a sermon from the imam. I knew the guy. He was at my school back in the bad old days. He singled me out to welcome me personally into the faith. He used to be a good baseball player. Wanted to join the old Army – willing to kill people! Being an ethnic minority (half native-American) and gay, he was admitted into the State university. “Not the old Army then?” I said – perhaps a little unkindly. “They cured me of all that in my first semester,” he said. Then he asked me where I went to college. Had to admit I’d been turned down everywhere. He remembered I was only good at math and physics. I told him how I’d finally got a degree in computer science from Common Core Higher Education Online. “Main thing is, you must learn the Koran by heart,” he said. “One year from now I’ll be testing you.” I wanted to ask him if he was still gay, but didn’t dare. Must find out first thing tomorrow at work whether I must still look for same-sex partner in Love Hour now that I’m a Muslim.

6 Ate a salad in our Unitarium Food Space. Then met Mike in the Play Space for a game of chess. Not easy to concentrate. Noisier games all round us, much more popular. Almost everyone naked now. Mike said he hoped they don’t make it a Play Space rule. Actually I do too, but he shouldn’t have said so. He caught the look in my eye and quickly added,“I’m not complaining. It’s fine really – I just feel the cold rather more than most, I think.”  After that his game went off and I won three times in a row.

9-10.30 Did some Koran memorizing and now finishing these diary notes just before Conservation Time lights out. Hope the bed comes down okay. Don’t want to have to sleep on the floor. (Am not complaining.)

Posted under Miscellaneous, satire, United States by Jillian Becker on Thursday, May 23, 2013

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