We ordered breakfast after Saul
poured us another cup of coffee.
Watching him return to his stool at the counter Lonnie looked back to me.
“He seems to be doing better.”
“Tough old bastard.”
“Think he enjoys us being around
again.”
“You and the Coney Connection you
mean.”
“The conversation.”
“He seriously thought you were
going to order your favorite this morning.”
“The thought entered my mind but
it was warded off by potential insurrection from my digestive system.”
“Thank god for small favors.”
“You still won’t eat one will
you?”
“Nope.”
“Still need to learn to live a
little.”
“That what you call living?
Russian Roulette with your arteries, no thanks.”
“I’m sure you’re still full of
good habits.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your drinking.”
“Beer now and again, nothing like
before if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I remember when they paired us up
for the first time. You did a terrible
job of trying to cover it up.”
“Look, it’s been under control for
a while now.”
“Yet you were willing to gamble
with the promotion because of it.”
“I was right, you are cranky in
the morning.”
“Just telling you before you go
judging someone’s lifestyle….”
I cut him off.
“I got it alright. Jesus,
seriously, I’m not fucking thirteen here.”
Saul came back with our order
placing the plates down in front of us.
The noise from it was the only thing disrupting the silence.
“Everything good with you two?”
Lonnie was quick to diffuse it.
“Yeah, we’re good. Can I get some hot sauce?”
“Sure, be right back.”
The doors leading into the kitchen
swung back and forth as Saul went to retrieve it. I pulled out my phone to start scrolling
through my messages.
“That’s the problem with this
generation coming up.”
“Technology?”
“Social Media, all of it.”
“You’re just on a roll aren’t
ya? Here I was worried about the effects
of CTE and it altering my personality.
You know I bet you’re going through Andropause or something.”
“What would you know about that?”
“Nothing, just this.”
Holding up my smart phone I showed
him the screen for an advertisement on the battle against male aging.
“Figures, Siri probably overheard
our conversation prompting the built in Artificial Intelligence marketing.”
“Sure seem to know a lot about
something you don’t care for.”
“Why do you think I limit my time
on that thing?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Dopamine.”
“Go on.”
“Texting, Social Media, anything
that someone posts and gets a comment or a like triggers this chemical reaction
in your brain. It acts like a
neurotransmitter sending signals to other cells rewarding a certain type of a
behavior, such as the activity you conduct on the phone. I’ll take it a bit further, it’s equivalent
to a slot machine anywhere you find in Vegas or the Razin brothers casinos
along the river there. You keep feeding
it money sooner or later it pays out, thus the reward. How much Psychology did you have in your
undergrad?”
“Hundred level class I guess.”
“You pay attention at all?”
“Think it was my freshman year,
doubtful. What’s your point?”
“Pavlovian conditioning. It’s fairly simple. One stimulus becomes associated with another
through modified behavior. Everyone, let
me rephrase it. Almost everyone is glued
to those dam phones based on some sort of reward system. Studies have now started to emerge this
activity leads to forms of depression, background anxiety and a host of other
psychological disorders.”
“So you’re saying anyone owning a
smart phone is potentially a dopamine junkie and the dealers are all the
founders of theses Social Media sites.”
“Yes, you of all people should
have picked up on this given your affinity for conspiratorial theories.”
“Surprising how many of them come
to fruition though, you have to admit.”
Saul returned holding a bottle of
Cholula hot sauce. The light colored cap
appeared stained.
“This due for ya?”
Lonnie took the bottle into his
hand examining it for a moment.
“Perfect, thanks for getting that
for me. My eggs wouldn’t be the same.”
“Anything else, gentleman?”
“We’re all set Saul. Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
I watched him virtually drown the
whites in it. Soon it was nothing more
than an orange yellowish swirl. He
looked at me before taking a bite expecting me to respond.
“Not saying a word.”
Examining the dark blue mug in
front of me I thought about what he had said to me. Life had dealt me a great heaping pile all at
once as soon as my football career ended so abruptly. Being adopted you think early on that you’re
somewhat like the parents that have taken care of you since you were
little. Mimic behaviors maybe, but
there’s the genetic demons that no one warns you about. My brother Micah was worse than me when it
came to addiction. I was fortunate
enough to beat mine back. Like I had
mentioned to Monica, his was being held at arm’s length with boxing. He couldn’t do it forever so something was
going to have to replace it. Hopefully
he wouldn’t repeat history.
Lonnie Temple had helped me tone
it down. No one knew except for
him. The fact that he said I poorly
concealed the alcohol was a bit of lie on his part. I slipped one time and he caught me. Being angry about it didn’t help but somehow
he was patient enough to take a chance on me coming clean with him which I did somewhat
reluctantly. An occasional drink now and
again was about it. I owed him a debt by
believing in a complete stranger and not ratting me out being new at the time. Every once in a while he reminded me of it.
My phone vibrated on the table
with the call coming from an unknown number.
Answering it after a few rings the voice on the other end asked me if I
was able to talk.
“Yeah, who is this?”
“You told me to call you if...”
“Can only imagine why my phone is
ringing now.”
“You should get down here.”
“On my way.”
The call cut off. Lonnie took a sip of his coffee before
placing it back down then reached for his jacket.
“That who I think it was?”
“The lack of Caller ID was the
spoiler wasn’t it.”
“Where we going?”
“County jail.”
“This early? Someone must have had an accident.”
“Son of a bitch.”
I set a couple of twenties on the
table before we left. Saul was still
staring at his phone when we were about at the door.
“Duty calls?”
“Good guess. Check’s all set Saul.”
“Thanks fellas.”
“We might be back for lunch.”
“Maybe him.”
As the entrance to Tribeca’s
opened bringing in a cool morning breeze.
“Hey you two. Just so you know I’m not addicted to this
thing whatsoever.”
Saul Anaganostopolous had his
Smart phone held up in his right hand waving it back and forth.
“Guess you can unfriend me then.”
“Fuck you Lee.”
