Member-only story
As we watched Virgin Galactic’s Unity craft make reentry, Lo said, “This changes everything.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Space Tourism,” she said. “It just opened up.”
“Meh,” I said, dismissively, like the old curmudgeon I am.
“Soon, we’ll all be able to take a jaunt to the stars.”
“Let me see what spring is like on a Jupiter and Mars,” I sang, invoking Sinatra.
“You laugh, but it’s really happening! I once read a story, I forget where, about a reality TV show that paid a porn star to be the first person to have anal sex on the moon.”
“That I can believe will happen. Reality TV colonizing our galaxy — the hallmark of misguided humanity.”
“I think it was by Alissa Nutting.”
“She has a very twisted imagination.”
“You should talk!”
“I don’t need a twisted imagination, I have you.”
“Now you’re trying to butter me up.”
“See — case in point.”
“What is?”
“Buttering you up.”
“I didn’t mean that literally.”
“Intent is different from impact.”