“Why do I need to fill in this form?”

“Standard procedures, Ma’am.”

“No! I refuse! I have humiliated myself long enough by physically being in this place!”

Her raised voice attracts the attention of the security guard at the entrance, who is no stranger to sights such as this.

“This form is required of ALL applicants regardless of their...”

“Look, I understand for others this might make sense, but...” She lowers her voice as she finally remembers. “I wouldn’t have been here in the first place if that was the case!”

“Madam... Miss, if I may?” The official slowly adjusts the rimless glasses on his nose the way one would expect from an official before saying something important. “According to the Ordinance, Chapter 520, Section Sixty-Ni...”

"Why bother humiliating myself even further?" She thought silently. There must have been over 20 forms she had filled for this nonsense. One more form wouldn’t have harmed her already bruised ego.

Occasionally, words from the official slips by her mind, “Security... Society... Regulations... Freedom...” She is quite immersed in her own mind until she vaguely hears a word, which brings her back to the presence quite abruptly.

“Sorry, what was that word you say?”

It has been a while since anyone could interrupt the official from his public lectures. So stunned that he actually forgets that word he was saying before he was cut off. 

“Ahh...yes, the form... The ‘Declaration on Excessive and Unwanted Emotion’... You, and your partner, have to sign this before we can assign you two as an official ‘Social Unit’, and the benefits that come with it.”

“BUT I NEVER MET HIM! THAT IS WHY I CAME HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! I COULDN’T FIND ONE MYSELF! WHAT OTHER PROOF DO YOU NEED?!”

There, the elephant in the room finally roams freely on open plains. The security guard lights up a cigarette to celebrate the mammal’s long overdue freedom, even though he shouldn’t smoke on duty.

After regaining her senses, she finally succumbs to reality. “Where is the form?”

After being shell-shocked for getting interrupted twice in a row, the official slowly raises his index finger. “FBD-L-073. Right at the entrance. You couldn’t miss it... It’s pink...”

With the unmistakably pink form in her hands, she leaves the Bureau of Crowd Control, formerly the Marriage Registry. One would expect improved efficiency from the officials after the name change, but it seems “efficiency” and “government” are quite mutually exclusive. In most cases, at least.

"This is ridiculous!" She is, of course, referring to the IGNORANCE of the officials for her to prove that there is no “Excessive or Unwanted Emotions” between her and her potential partner, a complete stranger who was assigned by the Bureau to her. She, of course, has no problem that the government banned this “Emotion” a decade ago. Why, it is for the public good! It would be truly ridiculous to have these ungoverned, spontaneous, and potentially heartbreaking emotions destroy the precious harmony and order of our great society. Nonetheless, she decides to comply with the official’s instructions and seeks this “partner” of hers.

Following the information provided to her by the Bureau, she arrives at the coffee shop her potential partner works in. “This is great,” for the first time in a while she feels luck is in her favor. “Coffee shops are great places to talk business! In fact, I couldn’t think of another reason people would grab a coffee together.”

“Good afternoon, how can I help?”

Her train of thought is disrupted for the second time today. She turns around and sees the barista smiling at her.

“Yes, you could sign your name here and I will be on my way.” That is usually how she, the enlightened woman who is quick on her feet would respond, but clearly something is at work here that drags her brain performance down by a mile. Is it the smell of the coffee beans? Or is it the pair of indigo birds that flew past the window? Or maybe it’s his rolled-up sleeves? No... there must be something magical with that smile of his...

“Umm... Ma’am? Miss? Hello? Can I help you?”

This time, every single word from him goes straight into her heart, yet nothing could be produced from that witty brain of hers. Seeing there is no other option, the barista gently grabs the unmistakably pink form from her hands.

“Ah, so you must be looking for John.”

“Wha... John? No!” She exclaims. It seems that she has assumed the barista as the person she was looking for. No idea why she would make such a baseless assumption at the beginning, which is out of her character.

“No...?” The barista is slightly confused, along with a few other customers whose attention is stolen by her when she raised her voice on that “No”, which, by coincidence, is also the second time today.

“I mean I’m not... I’m looking for...” Before she could finish on her petty excuses, the barista has kindly retreated into the back kitchen. Moments later, the “John” she was looking for emerges from behind the kitchen curtains.

“So you are the one, nice to meet you!” The “John” extends his hand for a firm handshake. His smile is sincere and firm is his handshake. Yet, something doesn’t feel right to her. No offense to “John”, but he simply lacks that magic.

Who needs magic anyways? In fact, the very purpose of her trip is to prove that there is no “excessive or unwanted emotions” between him or her. Together, they quickly go through the check-boxes on the form to ensure there is absolutely nothing between them, not even magic.

During the process, her brain was on autopilot. The actual pilot of the brain, if there is actually one, flew behind the kitchen curtain in search of a fabled land. All the while, the “John” began his recite of a speech on why there could be absolutely nothing between them. It was a great speech, but most importantly: nobody cares.

It is said that time flies when one’s brain is on autopilot. Sunset is approaching and the duo has finished their intended business.

“If you hurry,” says the “John”, “you could even make it before office hours end!”

“Yeah, sure.” She stirs her barely drank coffee with a spoon. “Hey, about that barista...”

“What about him?”

“Well... what is it like being a barista?” Subtlety is clearly not her strength.

“Ha! Why? Are you interested?”

“Only ever so slightly, I guess.” She continues playing with the spoon.

“Well, if you are interested, you are in luck!”

“Really? Why?” The spoon almost fled from her hand.

“That barista you just saw, he's leaving soon. I need someone on the counter to take orders. Seeing you and I are about to become one “unit”, I don’t see why you shouldn’t take his place... We could even pay less tax this way...”

It is also said that, “Poets often use many words to say a simple thing.” How unfortunate those words often fall on deaf ears. 

She returns to the Bureau before they close, just as the “John” suggested. In fact, the security guard we saw earlier is about to close the gates.

“Welcome back,” says the old security guard. “Ready to turn in the form? FBD-L-073, if I remember correctly?

“I never intended to find a partner.” Slightly embarrassed by her behavior in the Bureau earlier, “but I’m not sure whether it’s because I don’t WANT to find one or don’t know HOW to find one.” After another brief pause, she continues: “Or SHOULD find one.”

The security guard, seeing that she is obviously confused and in need of advice, plays the role of the wise-old-man.

“Want to hear my thoughts?”

And immediately he feels an intense gaze from eyes yearning for answers.

“My thoughts don’t matter. Go live your path.”

After hearing this incredibly vague yet somewhat wholesome direction for life, she dashes off into the streets at night. The security guard then proceeds to light up another cigarette in order to celebrate another elephant’s long overdue freedom, which joins up with the previous elephant in the room and they lived happily ever after. As for her, well, let’s just say she finally remembers that word, the magical word that sets all into motion.