Ever Since Libra Took Over
A speculative short story about living in 2046 when Facebook’s Libra has become the global currency
I woke up today feeling a little lightheaded. Pretty sure I ended up spending 200 Libra on drinks last night, but I should probably check my Calibra to make sure. The sun felt a bit too harsh this morning, even though I have always preferred sunny days to rainy ones, which I’ve had enough back home in Iquitos.
That’s partly why I decided to move to Dubai 10 months ago. That, and the money, of course. The tips are just so much better here, especially at this fancy new hotel bar I just started working at.
Stumbling out of bed to shut the curtains, I was somewhat surprised to find that I still had my shoes on. Man, last night’s party must be a blast for sure — Cathy always knows how to throw a party, and it was her big 30th birthday. Too bad her libra ran out so quickly, although, in her defense, she kept ordering top-shelf booze like it was all free. Since my daily deposit had just hit at midnight, I volunteered to pitch in on a drunken whim. That’s the thing about paying with smartbands — one flick of the wrist and beep, your libra is gone before you can think twice. No wonder some people have opted to add a confirmation step by a verbal command in addition to the always-on biometric authentication, even at the cost of taking a bit longer. Too bad that some rich assholes just have to ruin a perfectly useful feature like that by turning it into an opportunity to proclaim their extravagant purchases or broadcast their generous tips to anyone within earshot. My god, the loud tippers are just the worst. But then again, I suppose there have always been insufferable rich assholes, regardless of the payment method. At least everybody is paying in the same way now.
My dad likes to talk about how people used to pay for things with paper bills and plastic cards. Some people also digitized their cards on mobile, he told me, but they still had to go to a bank first in order to get a card. It all just sounded so absurd and terribly inconvenient, even though I had seen people do that in old movies, so I guess it must be true back then. I always laugh at the bank-robbing scenes where they run out carrying bags full of those paper money. If only we could rob Facebook the same way today! Dad also mentioned how Facebook was just a social network when he was young. Everyone was on it but not to do business. Instead, they were just chatting and sharing dumb stuff they found on the Internet with each other. Dad always says everything was a lot better back then, but I’m not sure I believe the old geezer and his nostalgia-tinted glasses. It is honestly so weird for me to think about Facebook like that, as merely a social media company, and not as the transnational conglomerate that happens to own Calibra and pretty much a bit of everything else these days.
Sitting back on my bed and putting on my glasses, I checked my Calibra balance, and oh my god, they charged me 400 Libs! There goes my entire grocery budget for the week. Throwing my glasses on the bed, I thought hard about the possibility of asking Cathy to pay me back for my share, or at least text me some libra to tide me over. Knowing her, I doubt I’d get any of my libs back any time soon, which means I probably need to make up yet another excuse for not sending any libra back home to help out with the mortgage this month. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing how much they trusted me and chose not to set up an auto-transfer on my paychecks like many other parents with kids working overseas tend to do. They wanted me to help out as much as I can without compromising my life here, yet my bad decisions have constantly sabotaged this honor system. Guess I will try to pick up an extra shift or two to make up for it.
The shock and the resulting guilt was quite sobering, so I decided to get up and go get some food before checking with John to see if someone is taking a leave this week or next. People move around so damn much these days, hopping from country to country looking for the best pay, so there’s got to be someone on the staff leaving for Shanghai or Paris soon. Didn’t Alex mention last week he was interviewing for a new synthetic vegan joint in Cairo because he can no longer stand all the plant-killers here? Perhaps I could ask to take over some of his shifts before they find a new replacement. Funny how it’s almost 2050 and we still don’t have robot waiters. People say it’s because advances in AI research were grossly overestimated back then and it hit a bottleneck around 2020 that lasted till today, and that’s why all the amazing things people used to think we would have by now never materialized. But I have another theory — I believe it wouldn’t have mattered if the technology was available or not, because deep down we all prefer to be served by other humans. I mean, otherwise, how do you feed your egos and know you’re better off than the vast majority of society? I would certainly hire a personal assistant to follow me around all day if I had the libra.
But, alas, I don’t. When I tried to pay for the breakfast sandwich I took out from the community fridge down in the hallway, a notification gently popped up to remind me of the brutal fact that my Calibra balance is now 124 libs in the red. Gosh, I really need to pick up an extra shift soon, or else I’d be paying those hefty loan interests to Facebook again. While chowing down my sandwich, I messaged John on WhatsApp about maybe picking up an extra shift, but he quickly replied saying there’s no opening on this week’s schedule yet.
Disappointed, I thought about going back to bed until my shift later tonight just so that I don’t spend more libra today. But then, a Facebook Watch promo bubble popped up, offering some new interactive adventure show that looked cool for just 0.5 libra per hour, and I instantly recognized that lead actress Lil Miquela, whom I’ve always liked ever since her IGTV days. I know some older folks still prefer to watch stuff with real human performers, but I honestly think the virtual ones are so much better at conveying nuanced emotions. Plus, they never get old and get to stay perfect forever. So I accepted the offer, and before I know it, I was 2 more libs into the red, and it was time to go to work.
Working at the bar has always been a bit boring. You smile, you nod, you serve, and then you libra them out. A dull, monotonous routine on an auto-piloted loop. Every now and then, however, an interesting-looking person comes along, and I would have some fun observing them. One time, I saw a Japanese businessman losing a bet to a Swede sitting at the next table over some soccer match that was playing on the wall, and I will always remember the nonchalant look on his face when he verbally confirmed a 5,000 libra transfer to his new friend. He tipped me well too, just not nearly as much as I was hoping for. God, I could use some big fat tips this week. That way, I could at least DM some money back home to ease my guilt.
As I was muttering my little prayers to Zuckerberg, Alex popped up out of nowhere to tap me on my back, which startled me. I always hated his sick hobby of sneaking up on people, and I was honestly ready to punch him if he hadn’t said he had something that I may be interested in. I knew he’s been slipping some transdermal weed patches to some of the regulars here, and I’ve always turned a blind eye to it. Technically, recreational drugs are not legal here in Dubai yet, but since this is an international hotel chain, and the guests come from everywhere around the world, of course there would be people asking for them. I had heard a lot of the dealers have switched to Libra ever since bitcoin went bust, but apparently, you have to use some special wallet app so that the transaction doesn’t show up on your Calibra account. Dark libs, they call it. I don’t know much about the specifics, because I was never interested in getting high. Knowing Alex’s radical opposition to plant consumption, the patches he sells are probably made from those new, crazy expensive synthetic strains anyway. Alcohol alone is already an expensive vice to have, and I believe in sticking with the devil you know. Alex knew that I’m not interested in buying drugs, so this must be something else.
I thought Alex was going to set me up with a girl he knew from high school again — god that blind date was painful — but instead, he smirked and said he heard about me buying everyone rounds at Cathy’s party last night. Must’ve cost ya some heavy libs, he taunted. I managed to squeeze out a reluctant smile and a half-hearted shrug, offering him no confirmation or denial, but he saw right past my fronting. Pulling me aside to the corner of the bar, he said in a hushed tone about needing my help to move some patches tonight. My first instinct was an absolute no, but my mind wavered when he told me he will give me 30% of his cut by just opening the kitchen door and being the lookout for him. I hesitantly asked him how much exactly would 30% be, and he smirked again and put up three fingers. No way I’m becoming your conspirators for just 300 libs, I thought and started to turn and walk away, but he grabbed my arm and mouthed “three thousand” under his breath.
At first, I thought he was joking, but he repeatedly promised me he was not throughout the rest of my shift. The tips were lousy today, so by the time I was supposed to clock out, I was seriously considering doing it. Or at least, I was ready to hear him out to see what the plan was. So I shot him a look as I said goodbye to everyone, and he knowingly followed me out through the backdoor of the kitchen. In the shadow of the alley, in a spot he said that evaded the surveillance cameras, he quickly told me everything.
As it turns out, Alex’s usual lookout buddy is none other than our supervisor John, who had to leave work early today because he got booked by a Calibra auditor for some tax-related issues. That worried me a little, thinking that they could have been made, but Alex insisted it was totally unrelated. He also reassured me that I don’t need to learn anything about the special wallet app they use to collect payments; all I needed to do was simply to open the door for him and be the lookout for an hour while he distributed the patches to the customers inside. I asked him how he plans to pay me my share, and he said he would just transfer it the way regular people do via Calibra and note it as him losing a bet to me. A 3,000 libra bet between two supposedly broke immigrant waiters would probably get flagged by Calibra’s AI as suspicious, I immediately contested, but he kept saying I was overthinking it. He’s done it before plenty of time with John, and nothing was flagged. But he’s being audited as we speak, I countered, and he threw his hands up, as if giving me an ultimatum.
Perhaps It was the fact that I know it would just be a one-off thing, and I did not want to miss out on the opportunity of making 3000 libs in one night, or perhaps I did secretly like the thrill of it all, I decided to do it.
Going back into the bar, I acted as if I forgot something in the employee locker room and just went into a bathroom stall to hide. Half an hour later, I got a text from Alex on one of those non-Facebook messaging apps he told me to download saying that he’s back. After taking several deep breaths, I went out acting all calm and collected to open the backdoor for him. He slipped right past me with a wink and a nod, leaving me standing there to be the lookout. I felt a powerful mix of anxiety and fear and excitement as I waited by the door, nervously trying not to appear nervous. Thank god the kitchen has been automated years ago with robotic arms and conveyor belts, so there’s no one to question my presence. Still, I turned on my glasses and pretended to watch the Lil Miquelia show while keeping an eye out on the alley through the little window on the door, just in case someone walks in.
An hour went by and nothing happened. Getting bored, my mind started to wander. Never in a million year would I have guessed that I’d be here tonight, standing by the kitchen backdoor and helping Alex to sell those synthetic patches. Despite what Alex repeatedly told me, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that John being audited by the Calibra accountants is somehow connected to his association with Alex. Was Alex dumb enough to use Calibra to send John his cut on a regular basis? Oh my god — was this why Alex is planning to take that job in Cairo?! That’s why he was so desperate to get me on board — that damn bastard must be planning to skip town after one last score. But then again, that would mean Facebook is somehow painstakingly monitoring every single one of the billions of transactions happening on Calibra? I chuckled at myself for sounding like a ridiculous conspiracy theorist. Why would Facebook even do that?
Nowadays we trust Calibra just because it’s the global standard, and by extension, Facebook itself. I suppose when something becomes that prevalent and unavoidable in your life, you pretty much have no choice but to trust it, along with everyone else, as we do with tap water or electricity. I certainly can’t imagine a life without libra. People of my generation certainly trust Facebook more than the governments. But dad mentioned once or twice that Facebook wasn’t always a trusted entity; in fact, it is known for violating personal privacy for profits and engaging in what dad called “surveillance capitalism.” Could Facebook still be monitoring all our transactions in Calibra and flagging suspicious transactions? They claim they would never do that, but so did all the governments.
Trying to calm myself down from my growing paranoia, my mind drifted to my parents. I wondered what they would think if they found out their baby girl has somehow got herself involved with a drug deal in Dubai. At least I’m participating in the global economy, I could tell them, but that joke would mean little. Ever since libra took over, all economic activities have been global affairs. Yet we still inherited all the nations with different cultures and different laws, all still holding onto their differences, and that seems to be the root of the world’s problem today. Back home in Peru, weed has long been legalized for medical and recreational use, so what I was doing wouldn’t even be counted as a felony. Yet here in Dubai, I might just get arrested tonight. Wouldn’t it be so ironic that I came to Dubai in the first place because I want to earn more libra to send home, but tomorrow I may have to call my parents to ask them to send me libra to make bail? If only I hadn’t offered to cover the drinks for Cathy…
Just as I started to get lost in my thoughts, a Calibra notification popped up: Alex Madden has transferred 3,000 libra to you, along with a message that reads “for betting against you” and a Bitmoji of his stupid smirk.
