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“Look, I deactivated physical push notifications,” Egbert says. “I mean the technology is amazing, but I had fourteen people today shove me while announcing it was my turn in Word Game, and then some guy told me I was mayor of Coffee House and bumped me into traffic. I don’t want” and then the next straw wrapper thwocks him in the eye.

“That’s not what this is,” she says, reloading.

“Then please,” says Egbert with what he feels is mighty restraint, “tell me what you are.”

The young woman across the train aisle grins and takes aim one more time. “Flirting.”