You press your finger on the RSVP box that declares you are coming and drop the invitation into the glowing messenger chute system that delivers the mail. You watch as it vacuum-seals the contents, then whips its way up to light-speed before de-particlizing, then reconstituting on the pedestal of whomever sent it. You stand outside and daydream a little. Minutes later, a response shows up: another letter in the same writing that says, “Go to the nearest Public Teleport Silver Line Station.”

Do you think:

A. You’re definitely going!

B. This might be too weird. Best to skip out.