friday at nick's : fragment two : a million-dollar idea :: 1/12/01
Fletcher: So I’ve got a million-dollar idea.
Freya: Another?
Fletcher: I’m telling you, I’m unstoppable.
Freya: Uh-huh.
Fletcher: Now listen. Here’s the idea: a personals service for airline travelers.
[Jakob and Freya look at him.]
Fletcher: Think about it. You’re, say, a college student in Chicago. It’s spring break; you’re going down to, let’s say Austin. For South by Southwest. You’re young, you’re single, you’re headed for a hip destination: you don’t want to be stuck next to some Joe Briefcase corporate executive.
Freya: Why would a corporate executive be going to Austin?
Jakob: Dell Computers?
Freya: Dell’s there?
Fletcher: I don’t know. Executives go places. That’s what they do. He’s going to fuckin’ South by Southwest. He’s a fuckin’, I don’t know, record label kahuna. Anyway. My point. You, the single college guy, don’t want to be sitting next to him. You want to be sitting next to some cutie who’s going out to South by Southwest. You want to be able to talk about what you’re going to see while you’re there; maybe tell her where you’re staying; make plans to get together for drinks one night— and, hell, if she’s from Chicago, and if everything goes well, you could make plans to see her when you get back. I’m telling you: a flight is the perfect place for a first date. It’s a few hours long, there’s other people around so nothing’s going to get too weird, it has a pre-determined ending time so there’s an easy out.
Freya: There’s no escape during the flight itself. It’s not like you can just leave.
Jakob: "Excuse me. Does anyone want to change seats?"
Fletcher: So before you get your ticket, you go onto my website, enter in what day you’d like to travel, what airline you prefer, where you’re going and then your preferences for companion — who you’d like to sit next to. The system matches you up with anybody traveling the same route as you who meets your criteria. Hell, it doesn’t even need to be for dating — you could do it by occupation, or whatever. The exec can find another exec to sit next to so they can talk about golf or whatever the fuck. If you’re a dentist going to some dentist’s convention you can sit next to another dentist. Air travel’s pretty boring — if you could turn it into a social thing, an extension of your conference or whatever, wouldn’t you? Hell, you can make plans to meet the person at the gate — that way if your flight gets delayed, you can flirt or talk shop instead of leafing through the goddamn USA Today.
Jakob: I’ve got to admit, you’ve got something there.
Fletcher: A million-dollar idea. I’ve got a million of them. I should be getting an MBA instead of a goddamn poetry Ph.D.
Freya: It’s the world’s loss.
Further Reading ::
Information Prose : A Manifesto In 47 Points ::
A manifesto, outlining some of the aesthetic goals behind Imaginary Year, can now be read here.
