Cool City

Cool City: A place where only cool people live. Image and reputation are the only things that matter in Cool City, and when people are in the public eye, they're on their best behavior, dressed in their best outfits. In private, it's a different story. The strain of keeping up a false front takes a toll on the citizens. When the facade begins to crack and the true nature of human beings shows through, a certain special someone arrives to give the city a much needed makeover.

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Cool City
by Terry Volkirch

Two young men leaned back against a brick wall along a steep city street with a significant bend at the bottom of the hill. They wore the latest black leather fashions with their short, spiky hair fixed in place by raspberry scented gel.

"Your eyeliner, dude," one said to the other. He was the shorter of the two so he stood uphill to even out their height for a proper conversation, as required by the strict city codes.

"What about it?" the other asked.

"Threatenin' to smudge."

"What?! Again?!"

The dude with the slightly imperfect eyeliner whipped out a mirror and a cotton swab from his messenger bag and quickly fixed his makeup.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem, dude."

The man and dude stood in companionable silence for the required minimum time before the man spoke up. "What else you got in there?" He eyed the dude's messenger bag.

"It's not a purse," the dude muttered.

"Didn't say it was. You gettin' defensive on me?"

"Fu… just shut it, man."

"Hey. Language. Watch it. The bricks got ears." The man meant it literally. The city planners automated everything, watching and listening with electronic devices placed all throughout the city. They had to do it that way. They couldn't use a police force. Police weren't cool.

"Yeah yeah."

Another required period of silence went by before the man spoke up again. "My cousin, Jerry?"

"Yeah?"

"He's stayin' with me. From out of state… but he's cool."

"Cool," dude said.

Yet another period of silence went by, this one much longer as the two men waited, occasionally glancing up the hill.

"Here it comes," the man said, hearing a rapidly approaching car. "Get ready."

A sporty neon blue car, with an obvious but still cool car kit look, zipped down the hill, accelerating instead of slowing down to safely navigate the steep city street. Driving over the speed limit was another requirement but some drivers took it too far.

The man driving the car eventually realized his mistake when he saw the turn at the bottom of the hill, but by then it was too late, so he did what the city codes required. He suddenly jerked the wheel to the right and then hard to the left, away from the two men that he caught in the corner of his perfectly made up eyes. His action had the desired effect.

The outside edge of the racing tires caught the smooth, dry asphalt, flipping the car into the air. The car reached a peak of twelve feet above the street and spun three and a half times before taking out a light post and wrapping itself around a corner of the building near the bottom of the hill.

The two observers had pulled out their phones to video tape the spectacle. They'd watched it all through the lens of their built-in cameras as it happened and then replayed it, comparing the two to see which one was better.

"You got me, dude," the man said, talking loudly enough to be heard over the din of several emergency vehicles.

"Yeah. Better angle. Closer to the action."

"By only ten feet!" the man said before they both broke into laughter.

The dude would post the video later and it'd go viral before the end of the day. It was a cool crash.

Everything was cool in Cool City.

~o~O~o~

Ray, still dressed in his city leathers, chuckled when he thought about the car crash. It was the best crash he'd ever seen, and he'd seen over a dozen on that same little hill. He felt relieved that he didn't have to stay as a witness. City cameras recorded everything, at least in public. He was safe from prying eyes in the comfort of his humble but stylish little apartment.

Lucky for his friend, Joe, the dude, cities never posted their videos. They kept their technology secret, for their eyes only. Only the city monitors viewed it, and then they archived it, never to be seen again. That worked out well for Joe. The dude would gain some much needed reputation points with his exclusive video.

Ray stood in the kitchen and shook his head when he thought of his friend's messenger bag. Even though it was black leather, it looked like a purse, and it certainly worked like a purse. He wasn't sure how Joe managed to get by the city codes with it. He doubted that they were just coming into style but he made a mental note to check the fashion website later, just in case.

As he waited for his espresso machine to pump out a cappuccino, he spied a jumbled collection of mail on the glass dining room table. The top letter especially caught his eye. It was addressed to his cousin, but the first name wasn't spelled the way he expected. His cousin was a man and yet the first name on the letter had a feminine spelling.

Something wasn't cool.

Ray scowled as he tried to think of an explanation. The first thing to pop into his mind was a simple mistake.

Yeah. That had to be it. It's just a stupid mistake.

He shrugged off the apparent mistake and headed back to the kitchen to get his cappuccino, but he didn't quite make it all the way before he was ambushed by his cousin.

"What you think, Ray? This too much or what?"

Jeri stood in her favorite blue skirt, thinking of herself as all woman when she dressed as she preferred, and she had to smile. The three inch heels she wore raised her height and her spirit. Her natural hair wig tickled her bare shoulders. Her body hugging tank top flattered her budding breasts. She did a twirl to send the skirt into a moderate flare and stopped suddenly to face her roommate with her hands on her hips.

"What the fuh, Jerry?! First your name. Now your clothes. You goin' gay? That's so not cool!"

"Gay not cool? You going bigot on me, Ray? Cuz that's really not cool. Maybe the coffee punks down on Third Avenue should know. Right?"

"Hey! Hey! I'm just repeatin' what they say."

"You're just followin' then? Doin' only what they say? It's not cool to follow. You gotta blaze your own trail, dude."

Ray leaned back against the nearest wall in his favorite pose. "You got lint for brains? I follow the trends, but I follow them my own way. I know cool."

"No. You don't. This city is losin' its cool."

"What you say? You the one losin' it, bro'."

"Do I look bro' to you? Who's got lint for brains?"

Ray snorted but didn't say anything. He just continued to lean back against the wall.

"Look, dude. Too much cool is bad. Can't you see that?"

"That is so not cool. Sounds like desperation. You just want to dress up. But don't worry. As long as it's in private, we're cool. I ain't talkin'."

Jeri sadly shook her head. "Still not sinkin' in then? If this city is cool on cool, who's the coolest? What's the coolest? How does everyone and everything compare?"

Ray honestly tried to understand his roommate and continued to fail. "I just keep hearin' lint come out your mouth."

Jeri wanted to scream but she kept trying. She had to get through to someone or she really would lose her sanity. "It's like good and bad. How can you fully appreciate good without something bad to compare to?"

"Who says you have to compare? Cool is cool. It either is or it isn't."

"But how do you know?" Jeri cried. "Who's in charge of cool? Who decides what's cool and what isn't? Isn't it all arbitrary? It changes with the whims of a few. That doesn't sound so cool."

That finally got Ray to think a little. He looked up at the ceiling and squinted for several minutes before a reply occurred to him. "I don't think so," he said, looking back at Jeri.

"You don't think! The stores and their machines dictate fashion, and they change it up often enough to keep themselves rolling in money. So do the electronic stores. You change phones almost as often as you do your clothes!"

"Well, yeah. Cuz it's cool!"

Jeri sighed. "It's all rather expensive, isn't it? Do you really need all that crap you buy? Does it really make you happy?"

Ray snorted and fell silent. His brain shut down in protest. He wasn't used to thinking so much. It wasn't cool to think a lot.

Jeri gave him a sad smile and retreated to her bedroom. She wanted to give the matter some serious thought. She felt a strong need to get through to everyone, not just Ray. The city needed a makeover and she'd try her best to see that it got one.

~o~O~o~

Ray and Jerry met up the next morning. Jerry was back in male mode by then for work. He had to fit in, just like Ray. The city had strict codes of dress and behavior. The alternative to fitting in was jail or worse — banishment. Nothing was worse than being banished from the Land of Cool. It really did matter, even in other cities that weren't as extreme. The stigma of banishment would follow a person wherever they went, keeping them out of the good jobs, good stores and good neighborhoods.

The two men sat at the small, glass table, Jerry eating a bowl of cold cereal. Ray settled for his usual — fully caffeinated coffee with a little cream and sugar and nothing else. Decaf wasn't cool. Neither was cold cereal.

"Where did you get that?" Ray asked, pointing to Jerry's bowl.

"This?" Jerry replied with his mouth full, causing Ray to cringe. "Sorry," he added after pausing to swallow. "I have to send away for the cereal. Can't buy it in any stores. Only mothers with children can buy it. Damn nuisance."

Ray laughed. "It's that way for a reason, lint-for-brains. Duh. It's not cool!"

"If it's good enough for children, it's good enough for me. It tastes good and I'm going to eat it."

"Fine. Like I said, I won't tell anyone. But really, dude. Are you trying to get banished?"

"No, Ray. I'm not. I'm trying to be free to live my life how I want. Is that really so bad?"

That effectively ended the conversation for the rest of breakfast. Jerry rinsed his bowl and put it and his spoon in the dishwasher before Ray started talking again.

"How did you ever get into Cool City? I thought they screened everyone."

"They do screen people. I was screened. But it was easy enough to play along well enough to get in. They're not very bright."

"Yeah, but…."

"I know cool," Jerry assured him.

"Then why the cereal? Why the… skirt?" Ray had to whisper the last word.

"Hey. I like what I like. And I just don't care to waste all of my energy trying to be cool every single minute of the day. It's really not possible anyway."

"What you say?" Ray suddenly felt threatened, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

"Sorry to break it to you, dude. You're not always cool."

Ray sputtered with nervous laughter.

"For example, you wore a tee shirt last weekend that had a curry stain. Your tag was out too. So not cool."

"What the fuh?! I did not!"

"Did. But hey. Don't worry. I'm not talkin'." Jerry smiled. He liked the way the conversation was going. He felt like he was actually making progress with his roommate.

Ray didn't like the idea of losing his cool but he let that slide for an even bigger question. "Okay then. I got one for you. Why did you come if you don't like being cool? I don't get it."

"I know cool and I like it like I like everything: in moderation."

"Yeah, but…."

"I wanted to experience extreme cool. This city takes cool to an extreme. It seemed… interesting at the time. So I came, I saw, I experienced. And I discovered something even more interesting."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Cracks in the facade."

"Cracks?" Ray's voiced squeaked.

"Like you with the curry stain."

"Enough about the curry stain!"

"Sorry. I mean that this city is in trouble. Too much of anything is bad, even cool, and I'm going to try to help. I consider it my civic duty."

Ray just shook his head at that. "Good luck," he said as the pair of them left together for work.

They drove off, leaving conversation in the dust as they listened to loud music play in Ray's late model black BMW.

~o~O~o~

Ray dropped Jerry off at the monorail station, giving his cousin a brief wave of the hand before tearing out of the parking lot and continuing on to his desk job at a big insurance company. His job wasn't glamorous by any stretch of the imagination but employees managed to spice up the workplace with daily events like John Woo movie day.

The insurance agent forgot all about his cousin's behavior as he pulled into his reserved parking stall, anticipating another exciting day of filling out paperwork while watching loud action movies. It wasn't cool to dwell on family problems.

~o~O~o~

Jerry bought a ticket and struck his best pose while losing himself deep in thought. His work involved the programming of the fashion machines that virtually everyone used to make themselves up everyday. Most people didn't have the time and desire to dress to perfection all the time so they had machines do it for them, and they gave control of the machines to the department stores. For a significant fee, the stores conveniently programmed all of the latest fashions for everyone, and everyone seemed happy with the arrangement.

The troubled man almost missed his ride. His thoughts weren't exactly about his upcoming day of work, but they did relate to work. He had only a few minor problems to solve and was well on his way to figuring out a way to help the citizens of Cool City.

~o~O~o~

With his illegal programming complete, Jerry had only to wait a couple hours for the second phase of his plan, when his changes propagated to fashion machines all across the city. He couldn't stand the anticipation but at least he didn't have to wait long for news of his latest efforts. His own building already finished his update.

The fashion monitor in his building related all of the latest styles over the public address system. Her voice rang out loud and clear with a new fashion alert soon after a man entered an emergency fashion machine in the lobby and emerged with Jerry's latest style change.

The man had gotten a shock when he was splashed by a passing truck. He needed a dry set of clothes and change of makeup in the worst way. Only his gel-fixed hair remained untouched. He got a second rude shock, however. When he came out of the fashion machine, he wasn't wearing anything like the clothes, hairstyle and makeup that he had on before. Instead, he took a shaky step onto the lobby floor in women's sandals and blinked with surprise, his eyelashes heavy with mascara. His lips tasted of strawberry flavored lip gloss and his fingernails extended well beyond his fingertips with a perfect French manicure. He looked down to one side at his left leg and found it poking out from a pleated black skirt of mid-thigh length. His legs were devoid of hair and encased in ever so sheer pantyhose that actually made his legs look disturbingly attractive. Just the sight of his one leg literally made him drool.

He took a second step. Then a third… and a fourth. It didn't take him long to get used to the moderately high heels of his new footwear so he just kept walking, telling himself it was just the latest style.

Get used to it, dude. Styles change. Man up.

He almost stopped when he felt a slight but definite bounce on his chest. He dared a peek and almost choked on his saliva. Down the front of his crisp, white blouse with the top three buttons undone, he could see definite breasts tucked in a lacy, white bra.

What the fuh?!

They had to be fake but they were very real looking fakes. They were attached to his now hairless chest with a strong glue, their edges concealed with perfectly blended makeup. He wouldn't be able to confirm how real they felt until an hour or so later when he went to collect himself in the men's restroom. He'd feel himself up in a stall after he managed to pull himself away from the bathroom mirror. He made a fairly convincing woman and it would take him a good ten minutes to stop staring at his beautifully feminine face with his full head of long blonde hair done up in a tastefully messy bun that was held together by two crossed chopsticks.

Jerry had a hard time hiding the joy he felt when the new style was announced. His plan was working! The modern woman's Eurasian look was going to be the next big fad in men's fashion. He couldn't wait to try Ray's fashion machine at home.

~o~O~o~

That next morning, the new style tested men all across the city. They hesitated and stalled, listening to the latest fashion reports before deciding that men truly were going to work fully dressed as women. Quite a few called in sick for various reasons, some of which were legitimate, but most made it to their workplace, and they made sure they maintained their feminine appearance. They faithfully reapplied their lip gloss after eating when they got a verbal warning from their local fashion monitor and they carefully checked themselves out in every mirror they came across. Looking their best was never harder for men.

The new purses came in handy. It amazed the men how much useful stuff they could carry in their purses. They gained a new appreciation for women's hand bags of all types and sizes that day.

Women continued with their current fad, consisting mostly of pant suits with a strong South American influence. Jerry left the fashion machine settings untouched for women. They were fine as they were as far as he was concerned. And so it happened that for once in the history of Cool City, the men looked more feminine than the women — at least most of the time.

It only took one major exception to create some chaos.

~o~O~o~

The first day went remarkably well, with an attendance rate of 92 percent — which didn't include Ray — and the second day's attendance rate improved slightly to 93 percent — also without Ray. It was the third day that proved somewhat difficult.

A large man named Jacob, with bulging muscles and ripped abs finally took the plunge and entered his personal fashion machine. He couldn't keep calling in sick when he wasn't really sick. It wasn't cool. So he entered and emerged a new man, and he didn't like the result.

It took an exceptionally thick layer of makeup to cover his thick beard stubble but no amount of makeup could hide his strong, square jawline and large broken nose. He was actually proud of his broken nose. It made him stand out — in a good way. Now, as he stood looking at himself in a full length mirror, he found himself standing out in a very bad way. He looked ridiculous. He felt ridiculous. And he couldn't walk at all in his red pumps with three inch heels! When he tried to walk, his anger kicked in and he went berserk. He kicked his shoes off and ran outside, where he proceeded to rip his mailbox out of the ground and start smashing things with it, starting with his own car.

After a few phone calls alerted the city monitors, they used their electronic eyes and ears to home in on the source of the disturbance. They activated the defense grid and automated stun guns soon had the berserk man incapacitated and on his way to a mental institution. It was obvious he needed help to appreciate the new style.

The news of the large man's path of destruction surprised Jeri. She expected a full revolt. She wanted a full revolt! Cool City needed to be taken apart and reconstructed with some semblance of sanity. The cracks in the facade were there. How could it be so difficult to expose the deception?

~o~O~o~

Several more of the city's larger men had a problem with the new clothes and makeup, though there was no destruction of property or any other forms of public disturbance. The large men protested, as expected, and ended up in the same mental institution with Jacob. Conformity was not an option.

Jeri underestimated the willingness to conform and the adaptability of human beings. People would put up with a lot as long as they had money, good food and a nice place to live. There was nothing really bad about the city except that they required complete obedience to their strict codes of conduct, however ridiculous those codes were.

Ray's feminine cousin had a couple of challenges then. She had to help Ray accept the new style for one thing, and she had to do it without arousing any suspicion — easy enough to do really given Ray's reluctance and inability to think. The hardest thing for her to do was to resolve the conflict within herself. She tried to do what she considered a good thing and it backfired. But it backfired in a way that she liked. Could she live with herself for turning the dress code upside down? She decided that she could. She lived her dream and there was no going back for her. Of course it greatly helped her conscience that a swarm of people like her flocked to the city so they could live their dreams.

Everything was cool in Cool City.

*** The End ***

 © 2013 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.