Hologram Sam's by John McAuliffe
David considers a radical image overhaul at Hologram Sam's.
David entered the studio and was met by a smiling man who offered his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Sam, and I am who I am, but you can be anyone."
"Hi Sam, I'm -"
"David. David Tipton."
"Yes."
"I have you right here." Sam raised the tablet in his left hand. "Come with me."
Sam led David to the center of the studio, where they sat in clear acrylic chairs at a rectangular walnut table.
"So, David, you're here about your chin," Sam said. "You have what some would call a 'weak chin,' and you'd like to turn that weakness into a strength."
"Yes, that's accurate."
"I have the numbers for you right here," Sam turned his tablet toward David and pointed to it as he spoke, "ninety-four percent of CEOs have a strong chin, ninety-seven percent of leading men have a strong chin, and a whopping ninety-nine point eight percent of superheroes have a strong chin. Those aren't borderline numbers, David. Sometimes, I have to tell clients that it's a judgment call, but with your chin, our chins, and the data available, I think the only question I have is, crypto or credit?"
"Let's slow down a little, Sam."
"Of course," Sam said and leaned back in his seat. "I'm just excited for you."
"I have some questions." David glanced briefly at another Sam in the studio.
"You want to see it in action."
"I do... and I also wanted to ask about Dallas."
"Dallas is a one-off." Sam waved his hand dismissively. "We can discuss that later. Let's give you a demonstration."
"Okay."
"Be honest with me." Sam placed his tablet on the table and leaned in closer to David. "When you came in here, you met me, and then you looked over there and saw that other Sam." He gestured to a Sam sitting at a table across the studio. "With his perfect smile, those ripped biceps, and that beautifully chiseled chin. And you were disappointed. You wished he were helping you and not me. And that's perfectly natural, because that Sam is who you want to be."
"I'm not sure what I was thinking, to be honest."
"It's okay, I understand," Sam said. "Please do me a favor and take a look at that striking Sam over there again. He's pretty perfect, right?"
David turned to examine the Sam across the studio again. "Yes, he's a very handsome man."
"Now look at me."
David turned back to his Sam and noticed an incredible change.
"Not too shabby, David, am I right? I just turned on, and now you're turned on. It's that simple. I know our somewhat antiquated slogan is, 'I am who I am, but you can be anyone.' The truth is, I don't have to be who I was, either. I've been wearing the system since before you arrived, but I didn't turn on until you turned around to admire that other Sam."
"There's certainly quite a difference."
"Yes, but only in my hair, eyes, nose, abs, buns, and chin... of course."
"It's impressive. Seeing it switched on in person." David nodded. "The before and after."
"And I think you'd agree that I still look like the same person. Just better. Much, much better."
"It's pretty amazing. I must admit."
"You see that lovely redhead speaking with that Sam over there?"
David noticed a beautiful woman laughing with a Sam and answered, "Yes."
"She's a client, and let me tell you, she's average, at best... when she's off. Not-so-great teeth, a little lumpy in places, a large scar on her cheek from an unfortunate incident, and her real hair color I can only describe as a dull br-onde. She's also an A-cup. And so you're aware, we can do something similar with men. Give you a little 'lump in the loins,' as one of the Sams here likes to say. Make it appear a little more mountainous in your Nether-lands. A surprisingly flat country."
"I'm concerned about the price." David surveyed the sophisticated studio. "My condo cost less."
"You said you're in sales, right?"
"We haven't discussed it, but -"
"I know you're in sales, and I know you don't want to be sold. But don't you think a self-assured and truly exceptional David will increase his numbers enough to pay for the system many times over?"
David shrugged. "I don't know."
"I do. Once you turn on, it will simply be sale, sale, sale. You'll forget what the word 'no' sounds like. I know I have.
"And that goes for your personal life, too." Sam tapped on his tablet. "It says here you're single. However, that may be a very temporary designation. I can't make guarantees - per our legal department - but you might want to recalibrate your sexpectations. I mean expectations."
David rolled his eyes.
"So, you should actually calculate your cost once you factor in record sales numbers, a promotion, and maybe two salaries in the household instead of one. Wait, what did I just say?"
"Okay, I've got it," David said. "You can take it down a notch with the pitch. If I were interested, what's the next step?"
"We get up, we go to one of those elegantly appointed rooms at the back of the studio, and we fit you. I've already dialed in some of my favorite enhancements, but in the end, you'll pick the mods that suit you best. You spend as much time as you need personalizing the system. It can take hours, or days, depending on how discerning you are and how many mods you choose. Last week, we had a guy in here who spent three entire days just going through his hair choices."
"Wow, sounds like he takes his hair pretty seriously." David laughed.
"He sure does," Sam said, enthusiastically. "So, are we ready to get you turned on, David?"
David shifted in his seat, and his smile disappeared. He looked to his right, then left, and quietly asked, "What about Dallas, Sam?"
"As I said, Dallas is an anomaly. It won't affect the brand. It won't affect our clients. It won't affect anything."
"They're talking about a registry. No one wants to be on any registry."
"There won't be a registry. Who's going to vote for that? Do you know how many of our distinguished ladies and gentlemen in Congress can thank holographic enhancement for their seats? Too many. That Bill would be about as popular as paying for a barefoot walk through poison ivy. There will never be a registry."
"I just don't want to invest in something that could be banned, and I certainly don't want to be associated with anything that could be known as 'a predator's best friend.'"
"Yes, a woman was assaulted by one of our clients. And yes, she couldn't identify him in a lineup once he turned off. It was unfortunate. Incredibly unfortunate. But it's an isolated incident."
"What about LA?
"LA was different. That woman filed charges because she was upset with herself. She felt duped. She wasn't happy once he turned off. Not happy at all. But everything was consensual. Believe me, there's been a time or two after I woke up when I wasn't happy with my choices, but I didn't press charges against anyone. I just quietly climbed down the fire escape like a gentleman. So, my advice to you, David, is to keep the system on until after you're out the door. If you know what I'm saying."
David abruptly stood up. "Maybe this isn't for me."
"Listen, I know those are serious accusations, but it's the opposite of who we are." Sam stood up, gently grabbed David's forearm, and eased him back down into his seat. "We're here to help people, and we have a new campaign coming that will drive that home. And that's what people will remember. Not Dallas."
"What's the campaign?" David asked.
"You'll be hearing some incredible stories about Hologram Sam's. Stories about bringing folks back from depression and the brink of suicide. Stories about helping burn victims regain their dignity and their lives. Stories about saving broken marriages and listless careers. Plus, we're launching a cleft palate program for low-income families. How's that for good news, David?"
"Well, that's what I wanted to hear... that you're helping people with the technology."
"Helping others every day."
"I hope so."
"You mention our technology. It really is incomparable. So, I wanted to caution you against considering a cheaper alternative, such as a Russian system, for example. We were first and continue to be the best. A seamless wrap, zero dimming, and an eighty-hour wear-life."
"What about system security? There's been some very public intrusions."
"Our security is 100 percent guaranteed. You can't be hacked. You'll never have to worry about being up at a podium, addressing millions on TV, when suddenly you appear to be a werewolf."
"That was something, huh?"
"One moment, you're the beloved president of Romania, and the next, you have fifty thousand people outside Cotroceni Palace with torches. You just can't unsee a werewolf giving a State of the Union address. And superstitions run a little deeper over there, so they want him dead yesterday. Andrei and his entire family. They think he is a werewolf, and he'll be hunted for the rest of his life."
"They say he's already dead."
"Between us girls, he's not. He's a client now. He finally ponied up for the real thing. Now he comes in every month, right before the full moon appears, to make sure everything is tip top and tidy."
"You're kidding me?"
"I wish I were. But, penny-wise, pound-foolish is what I'm saying."
"I understand."
"But we're here to talk about you, David. This is about you, and not some loon in Dallas or some wannabe lycanthrope in Bucharest." Sam swiped at his tablet several times and looked up at David solemnly. "I want to discuss your FSA."
"My what?"
"Your 'Final Straw Anecdote.' The reason you're here. And I appreciate you including this information for us. I know these stories can be embarrassing. And I know they can conjure up difficult emotions. You wouldn't believe the stories I hear. Absolutely heartbreaking. But those same stories are also exhilarating to the Sams here, because we help turn lives around. Not sometimes, all the time."
"That's great, Sam."
"You're okay with us discussing your anecdote now?"
David rubbed his palms together and nodded. "Sure."
"You went on a date, and it was a disaster. 'Another disaster,' as you put it. Self-conscious about your weak chin, you resolved to keep your chin up, literally, by making certain the bottom of your chin was always parallel to the floor during dinner. But you didn't practice this before the date, and had no idea how difficult it would be to eat without tilting your head down to look at your food. And you ended up putting an empty fork into your mouth twice before spilling an entire glass of red wine on yourself."
"Yup, that about sums it up," David said.
"Yikes." Sam put his hand on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but that young woman was probably trying to decide whether she was on a date with a mime or an android. Am I right? And I only feel like I can joke with you about this now because I know you'll never have a date like that again."
"I shouldn't be so shallow, but it's bothered me my entire life." David stroked his chin and stared down at the table. "I don't know why."
But he did know why. It was because of Bethany Bonds, who shouted, "Ewww, not from you!" when David handed her the wildflower bouquet he'd picked for her at recess in second grade. It was because of Karl Stromer, in Little League, who dubbed him "Chinless Joe Jackson" on the first day of practice. It was because of Gina Bertuzzi, who simply walked away when he asked her to dance. It was because of Ann in college, and Maria at the office, and Brigitte at the gym, who "just wanted to be friends."
It was because of Olga, who laughed when he spilled his wine, and laughed when he went to kiss her goodnight, and laughed as she discussed it all openly, online, later that evening.
It was because his weak chin made him a weak man in their eyes. It was because when he attempted to prove he was strong, they'd say, "Please, lower your voice," or "Please, control yourself," or "Please, David, you're hurting me."
"David? Sam said. "Hey, David."
"Yes?" David answered, breaking his gaze from the table.
"I think we lost you there for a minute, buddy."
"No, I'm good. Just thinking."
"I know this is a big decision. But I also know your life is about to change, and it makes me very, very happy."
"You're good." David wagged his finger at Sam, as a smile emerged. "You're really good."
Sam stood up from the table. "Let's turn you on, David, so you can begin turning on everyone around you. What do you say?"
"I say, let's do this! Turn me on, Sammy!" David and Sam shook hands, while the other Sams in the studio clapped.
A beautiful redheaded woman, who'd come in to have her facial enhancements radically adjusted - fearing her ex may have recognized her from a photo inadvertently posted online - smiled briefly at David before raising a NuYuVu Holomirror to her face.
 |
| Image generated with OpenAI |
"Hi Sam, I'm -"
"David. David Tipton."
"Yes."
"I have you right here." Sam raised the tablet in his left hand. "Come with me."
Sam led David to the center of the studio, where they sat in clear acrylic chairs at a rectangular walnut table.
"So, David, you're here about your chin," Sam said. "You have what some would call a 'weak chin,' and you'd like to turn that weakness into a strength."
"Yes, that's accurate."
"I have the numbers for you right here," Sam turned his tablet toward David and pointed to it as he spoke, "ninety-four percent of CEOs have a strong chin, ninety-seven percent of leading men have a strong chin, and a whopping ninety-nine point eight percent of superheroes have a strong chin. Those aren't borderline numbers, David. Sometimes, I have to tell clients that it's a judgment call, but with your chin, our chins, and the data available, I think the only question I have is, crypto or credit?"
"Let's slow down a little, Sam."
"Of course," Sam said and leaned back in his seat. "I'm just excited for you."
"I have some questions." David glanced briefly at another Sam in the studio.
"You want to see it in action."
"I do... and I also wanted to ask about Dallas."
"Dallas is a one-off." Sam waved his hand dismissively. "We can discuss that later. Let's give you a demonstration."
"Okay."
"Be honest with me." Sam placed his tablet on the table and leaned in closer to David. "When you came in here, you met me, and then you looked over there and saw that other Sam." He gestured to a Sam sitting at a table across the studio. "With his perfect smile, those ripped biceps, and that beautifully chiseled chin. And you were disappointed. You wished he were helping you and not me. And that's perfectly natural, because that Sam is who you want to be."
"I'm not sure what I was thinking, to be honest."
"It's okay, I understand," Sam said. "Please do me a favor and take a look at that striking Sam over there again. He's pretty perfect, right?"
David turned to examine the Sam across the studio again. "Yes, he's a very handsome man."
"Now look at me."
David turned back to his Sam and noticed an incredible change.
"Not too shabby, David, am I right? I just turned on, and now you're turned on. It's that simple. I know our somewhat antiquated slogan is, 'I am who I am, but you can be anyone.' The truth is, I don't have to be who I was, either. I've been wearing the system since before you arrived, but I didn't turn on until you turned around to admire that other Sam."
"There's certainly quite a difference."
"Yes, but only in my hair, eyes, nose, abs, buns, and chin... of course."
"It's impressive. Seeing it switched on in person." David nodded. "The before and after."
"And I think you'd agree that I still look like the same person. Just better. Much, much better."
"It's pretty amazing. I must admit."
"You see that lovely redhead speaking with that Sam over there?"
David noticed a beautiful woman laughing with a Sam and answered, "Yes."
"She's a client, and let me tell you, she's average, at best... when she's off. Not-so-great teeth, a little lumpy in places, a large scar on her cheek from an unfortunate incident, and her real hair color I can only describe as a dull br-onde. She's also an A-cup. And so you're aware, we can do something similar with men. Give you a little 'lump in the loins,' as one of the Sams here likes to say. Make it appear a little more mountainous in your Nether-lands. A surprisingly flat country."
"I'm concerned about the price." David surveyed the sophisticated studio. "My condo cost less."
"You said you're in sales, right?"
"We haven't discussed it, but -"
"I know you're in sales, and I know you don't want to be sold. But don't you think a self-assured and truly exceptional David will increase his numbers enough to pay for the system many times over?"
David shrugged. "I don't know."
"I do. Once you turn on, it will simply be sale, sale, sale. You'll forget what the word 'no' sounds like. I know I have.
"And that goes for your personal life, too." Sam tapped on his tablet. "It says here you're single. However, that may be a very temporary designation. I can't make guarantees - per our legal department - but you might want to recalibrate your sexpectations. I mean expectations."
David rolled his eyes.
"So, you should actually calculate your cost once you factor in record sales numbers, a promotion, and maybe two salaries in the household instead of one. Wait, what did I just say?"
"Okay, I've got it," David said. "You can take it down a notch with the pitch. If I were interested, what's the next step?"
"We get up, we go to one of those elegantly appointed rooms at the back of the studio, and we fit you. I've already dialed in some of my favorite enhancements, but in the end, you'll pick the mods that suit you best. You spend as much time as you need personalizing the system. It can take hours, or days, depending on how discerning you are and how many mods you choose. Last week, we had a guy in here who spent three entire days just going through his hair choices."
"Wow, sounds like he takes his hair pretty seriously." David laughed.
"He sure does," Sam said, enthusiastically. "So, are we ready to get you turned on, David?"
David shifted in his seat, and his smile disappeared. He looked to his right, then left, and quietly asked, "What about Dallas, Sam?"
"As I said, Dallas is an anomaly. It won't affect the brand. It won't affect our clients. It won't affect anything."
"They're talking about a registry. No one wants to be on any registry."
"There won't be a registry. Who's going to vote for that? Do you know how many of our distinguished ladies and gentlemen in Congress can thank holographic enhancement for their seats? Too many. That Bill would be about as popular as paying for a barefoot walk through poison ivy. There will never be a registry."
"I just don't want to invest in something that could be banned, and I certainly don't want to be associated with anything that could be known as 'a predator's best friend.'"
"Yes, a woman was assaulted by one of our clients. And yes, she couldn't identify him in a lineup once he turned off. It was unfortunate. Incredibly unfortunate. But it's an isolated incident."
"What about LA?
"LA was different. That woman filed charges because she was upset with herself. She felt duped. She wasn't happy once he turned off. Not happy at all. But everything was consensual. Believe me, there's been a time or two after I woke up when I wasn't happy with my choices, but I didn't press charges against anyone. I just quietly climbed down the fire escape like a gentleman. So, my advice to you, David, is to keep the system on until after you're out the door. If you know what I'm saying."
David abruptly stood up. "Maybe this isn't for me."
"Listen, I know those are serious accusations, but it's the opposite of who we are." Sam stood up, gently grabbed David's forearm, and eased him back down into his seat. "We're here to help people, and we have a new campaign coming that will drive that home. And that's what people will remember. Not Dallas."
"What's the campaign?" David asked.
"You'll be hearing some incredible stories about Hologram Sam's. Stories about bringing folks back from depression and the brink of suicide. Stories about helping burn victims regain their dignity and their lives. Stories about saving broken marriages and listless careers. Plus, we're launching a cleft palate program for low-income families. How's that for good news, David?"
"Well, that's what I wanted to hear... that you're helping people with the technology."
"Helping others every day."
"I hope so."
"You mention our technology. It really is incomparable. So, I wanted to caution you against considering a cheaper alternative, such as a Russian system, for example. We were first and continue to be the best. A seamless wrap, zero dimming, and an eighty-hour wear-life."
"What about system security? There's been some very public intrusions."
"Our security is 100 percent guaranteed. You can't be hacked. You'll never have to worry about being up at a podium, addressing millions on TV, when suddenly you appear to be a werewolf."
"That was something, huh?"
"One moment, you're the beloved president of Romania, and the next, you have fifty thousand people outside Cotroceni Palace with torches. You just can't unsee a werewolf giving a State of the Union address. And superstitions run a little deeper over there, so they want him dead yesterday. Andrei and his entire family. They think he is a werewolf, and he'll be hunted for the rest of his life."
"They say he's already dead."
"Between us girls, he's not. He's a client now. He finally ponied up for the real thing. Now he comes in every month, right before the full moon appears, to make sure everything is tip top and tidy."
"You're kidding me?"
"I wish I were. But, penny-wise, pound-foolish is what I'm saying."
"I understand."
"But we're here to talk about you, David. This is about you, and not some loon in Dallas or some wannabe lycanthrope in Bucharest." Sam swiped at his tablet several times and looked up at David solemnly. "I want to discuss your FSA."
"My what?"
"Your 'Final Straw Anecdote.' The reason you're here. And I appreciate you including this information for us. I know these stories can be embarrassing. And I know they can conjure up difficult emotions. You wouldn't believe the stories I hear. Absolutely heartbreaking. But those same stories are also exhilarating to the Sams here, because we help turn lives around. Not sometimes, all the time."
"That's great, Sam."
"You're okay with us discussing your anecdote now?"
David rubbed his palms together and nodded. "Sure."
"You went on a date, and it was a disaster. 'Another disaster,' as you put it. Self-conscious about your weak chin, you resolved to keep your chin up, literally, by making certain the bottom of your chin was always parallel to the floor during dinner. But you didn't practice this before the date, and had no idea how difficult it would be to eat without tilting your head down to look at your food. And you ended up putting an empty fork into your mouth twice before spilling an entire glass of red wine on yourself."
"Yup, that about sums it up," David said.
"Yikes." Sam put his hand on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but that young woman was probably trying to decide whether she was on a date with a mime or an android. Am I right? And I only feel like I can joke with you about this now because I know you'll never have a date like that again."
"I shouldn't be so shallow, but it's bothered me my entire life." David stroked his chin and stared down at the table. "I don't know why."
But he did know why. It was because of Bethany Bonds, who shouted, "Ewww, not from you!" when David handed her the wildflower bouquet he'd picked for her at recess in second grade. It was because of Karl Stromer, in Little League, who dubbed him "Chinless Joe Jackson" on the first day of practice. It was because of Gina Bertuzzi, who simply walked away when he asked her to dance. It was because of Ann in college, and Maria at the office, and Brigitte at the gym, who "just wanted to be friends."
It was because of Olga, who laughed when he spilled his wine, and laughed when he went to kiss her goodnight, and laughed as she discussed it all openly, online, later that evening.
It was because his weak chin made him a weak man in their eyes. It was because when he attempted to prove he was strong, they'd say, "Please, lower your voice," or "Please, control yourself," or "Please, David, you're hurting me."
"David? Sam said. "Hey, David."
"Yes?" David answered, breaking his gaze from the table.
"I think we lost you there for a minute, buddy."
"No, I'm good. Just thinking."
"I know this is a big decision. But I also know your life is about to change, and it makes me very, very happy."
"You're good." David wagged his finger at Sam, as a smile emerged. "You're really good."
Sam stood up from the table. "Let's turn you on, David, so you can begin turning on everyone around you. What do you say?"
"I say, let's do this! Turn me on, Sammy!" David and Sam shook hands, while the other Sams in the studio clapped.
A beautiful redheaded woman, who'd come in to have her facial enhancements radically adjusted - fearing her ex may have recognized her from a photo inadvertently posted online - smiled briefly at David before raising a NuYuVu Holomirror to her face.
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