Kollin Holtz, contributor
The 90s called. They asked what it’s like to be poor, laughed, and then hung up. Everyone got real angry about it. They were all like, “The 90s should have texted!” When we tried to call them back, all we got was a busy signal, probably because they were on the Internet, or sending a fax. How quaint. “Why don’t you put on your bonnet, jump in your carriage, and cackle into your car phone about it!” we yell at the answering machine once the call finally goes through.
The 90s picks up before we can finish. They say that yes, they were screening their calls. We tell them how adorable it is that they don’t have caller ID. They ask what caller ID is. We tell them we’ll send them a link to a youtube video on how it works. They ask what youtube is. We tell them, “Ugh… okay, go to a mirror. Are you standing in front of a mirror?”
“Yes,” they say.
“Looking at yourself?”
“Okay, now make a fist.”
“Okay…” they say.
“Now, stick your middle finger straight up in the air. That’s youtube.”
The 90s started getting real angry for someone doing heroin all the time. They tell us at least they have free porn now. We shoot right back, telling them to have fun with those JPEGs that take forever to load. They could print it out to save time and not miss any phone calls. Too bad their stupid printers would run out of ink and leave blank streaks along the entire image. Have fun dealing with the discovery of Street Sharks cartoon nudies hidden in your son’s homework folder.
The differences slowly melt away as mutual interests are found. The 90s tell us about all their great action movies. It’s like, duh. We know. We still have them. Of course no one can afford to buy them because all we have are these security jobs. And the 90s say that’s too bad, because at least they have job security.