Embrace the Telescreen

It began innocently enough with an 11-inch black-&-white television sitting behind the bar at the corner tavern. It occasionally drew attention during conversational lulls, or when the batter smacked one into the outfield. No biggie. An aid in camaraderie, much like each man’s drink.
  But over the years as the TV screen grew in size, the conversations shortened. Telescreens began appearing in nicer establishments, competing with Grandmum’s attention over Sunday dinner. Banks now have them, nattering in the background behind tellers. Churches have hopped on the bandwagon with, of course, their own content. (Gotta take advantage of the human eye’s tendency to drift to any screen.)
  The conspiracy-minded will always whisper about Big Brother, but what’s the incentive when it’s all voluntary? Cheapo tech from Asia?   You know things are bad when couples on dates -- an ostensibly sociable if not romantic occasion -- resort to sharing a seat side by side (“date-sidling”) so both can face the telescreen rather than face each other in normal adult conversation.

  In Classic City, all this came naturally, being a uni town with scores of places to drink and turn off the brain from its studies. So eventually every spot got its telescreen.
  Even The Bogle Alehaus, Classic City’s lone UK-style pub, had a telescreen propped upon its antique mantelpiece. The discordant effect of age-old woodwork joined with plastic and electronics was as disconcerting as that chintzy glass pyramid in front of the Louvre. (Gauche, as it were.) Thankfully, the telescreen didn’t last long. Maybe somebody complained. Hopefully somebody complained.
  As well, Uncle Ernie went overboard at his place with not only six megascreens on the walls, but also a flatscreen at every table in the joint.
  “It’s a sports bar,” he nonchalantly sniffed.
  (Credit must be given to one Mr Mutta for never once allowing a telescreen to grace the inside of his own Brooklyn Café.)
  So okay -- two holdouts in a sea of taverns and eateries -- all with the Sacred Screen lording over pigeon-hearted patrons a-drooling. Those are not good numbers.
  Let’s just go to Mack’s. At least the patio there -- as dumpy as it has become -- stands free of any hovering televisual presence. Where adults can enjoy each others’ company with a convivial beverage, uninterrupted. Where friends can hold court regaling themselves with drink, without intrusion. Where…

  Oh, wait…