I know, I know. OH-MY-GOSH-SHE'S-CONTINUING-BUT-SHE'S-GONNA-SCREW-IT-UP-WITH-A-MARY-SUE! Not my intention, I assure you. Tillie exists purely in this oneshot, and she is solely used to represent Steve giving the 21st century a chance. Hope you like it, and feel free to offer any suggestions/comments! :)
Steve absentmindedly toyed with a sugar packet at his outdoor café table and tried to take in the world around him. No matter which way he turned his head or squinted his eyes, there was always something new and flashy that kept him from believing that this was really the same earth he had closed his eyes to seventy years ago. Cell phones, tablets, motorcycles, let alone the Internet. This was not a welcoming world to be thrust into. The gently "old fashioned" beauty of the faces of girls he had once chased was nowhere, replaced by sharp, unhealthy-looking models that scowled at him in posters or stressed-looking frown lines that sat alone with their laptops.
Like the frazzled young woman that spun herself in circles with a gigantic map scarcely twenty feet from him. Not a day older than seventeen or eighteen, her eyebrows spasmed in confusion under her big, dorky glasses that magnified already awkwardly large hazel eyes. Steve watched her flip the map several times and brush her long auburn hair impatiently away from her face. She eventually crumpled up the paper and chucked it into a nearby trash, muttering something that sounded like "I curse you and those who inhabit your foul-smelling realms, freakin' over-complicated rat hole!"
"Excuse me, ma'am. Can I help you find someplace?" asked Steve, unable to watch this battle any longer and walking over.
The girl turned pink. "Oh, did you hear my little rant? Sorry, I read a LOT of fantasy novels on my flight. And thank you, sir, but I'm in no rush to be anywhere. Just thought I'd try to make sense of the Big Apple before I actually had to find my way to work. Kind of a huge change from Middle-of-Nowhere-ville, Michigan."
"I take it you haven't been especially successful. I'm Steve, by the way." He offered his hand to shake, and she took it.
"Tillie."
"Would you like to sit down, Tillie?" Steve pulled out the chair opposite his at the table.
"I'd love to." She slumped down into the seat and stared at Steve for a second, but didn't say anything. Maybe something clicked vaguely in her mind.
"So you said you came here for work? That's me, too." said Steve.
"I was cast as Peter in a remake of the original theatrical production of Peter Pan. You?"
"Wow, what a role. I've always really loved that play." Steve smiled, happy to recognize something. "I'm…I suppose you could say I'm here for some volunteer work."
Tillie nodded. "So you don't usually live here? I guess I can safely say, then, that I kind of can't stand this city. It's so loud, and flashy, and unnecessarily complex. My friends all give me crap about it, but I'm hopeless with places like this; I'm an old soul, I suppose. I couldn't even work my GPS, hence the map." She rolled her eyes at herself.
"Don't feel bad. Hey, I'm still figuring out how the phone cords are invisible." Steve joked. Although, a month ago it wouldn't have been a joke.
"I can't even understand why my magic, shiny typewriter needs 'Wi-Fi,'" laughed Tillie, clearly enjoying herself now. They continued this banter long past a time when there was nothing left to say.
"That's so sad," Tillie whispered after a pause.
"What?"
"That guy and his son are out to lunch over there. But they're both on their phones!"
Steve saw where Tillie was discreetly nodding towards. "Tell me, Tillie, am I the only one who remembers a time when Google was a number? Or one didn't need fancy type for someone to see what their face looked like while talking?"
"Good God, Steve, I hope not,"
Another silence. Although, Steve realized, there could be no such thing in an era so very deafening.
"I should probably go. Time stops for no woman, and I have a number of meaningless things to do, whether I like it or not. It was really nice meeting you, Steve." Tillie finally sighed. She picked up her satchel-like backpack and stood.
"And you. I should like to see you around sometime."
"A tragedy worthy of the Bard himself that NYC's population is over eight million. Odds are slim. But thanks for the chat, anyway."
"Can I walk you anywhere? This is New York." Steve offered. Rogers, this isn't the forties. She can walk just fine, he realized right after.
"That's okay, I'll manage. Thanks for the offer, though. Not too many guys man enough to do that. Bye."
"Goodbye." As Tillie walked farther and farther away, Steve watched her without really seeing her. So this is planet Earth now. Bonding time over cellular phones and any semblance of sanity is snatched away by pointless tasks. The world is far too crazy for my taste.
Somehow his glazed-over eyes saw Tillie, distant now, lean over and hand what looked like quite a bit of money to a homeless woman.
Or maybe, just maybe, there's a little more sense than I give this century credit for…