Phone Sex With a Robot

My neck is acting up today. It’s a result of some whiplash—due to the presence of a bird in my room. Two weeks ago, I woke up to a shuffling noise in my room. As I opened my eyes, a thing flew over me, a blur I couldn’t really discern as I was still foggy. Regardless, I freaked. I fell off my bed, knocking over my space heater and slammed into the door, somehow managing to shout “Fuck!” at the same time. I spent the next hour trying to cajole the poor creature to get the hell out of my room, reinforcing the opinion that animals really aren’t that smart. Some might be, but this bird certainly wasn’t. I wonder how a person could explain the concept of glass to a creature who’s daily life consists of eating crap and crapping on things.

I spent most of the day in Chinatown, experiencing another one of those rainy days. I’m riding on my bicycle, which is now creaking magnificently, and I enjoy the wet drops seeping through my trucker hat as I enjoy the inner vista of Washington D.C. I go to Urban Outfitters—my latest treasure trove for interesting mental fodder—and pickup two books. I’ve been reading with a monstrous appetite lately. Since the start of the year I’ve read eight books:

Think and Grow Rich, The Game, The Road, Spook, Fast Food Nation, I’m Dreaming of Gwen Stefani, Working Stiff, 22 Jamaican Stories and Brave New World.

I pickup Secrets of a Model Dorm and Rules of Attraction. This is my stilted form of research into sharpening my writing craft. I’ve written a lot, and lately I feel the need to do more non-fiction than a bunch of fast-paced thrillers. The more I read non-fiction (especially those with lots of sex, introspection and random scenarios) is the more I know I can tell a GREAT story for example, this happened today:

February 18, 2008:

I’m sitting in my room, watching Tony Soprano eat ice cream. I think to myself it would be great to do something sexual with his wife Carmela. She has that constant look of stress and sexual tension built into her so well it seems she’s just dying to get laid, multiple times. My phone rings and I don’t recognize the area code. I answer.

“Hello.”

A woman speaks to me. Her voice sounds like the voice you hear in any elevator; computerized, young and hot.

“This is IP Relay.” She says.”Someone is calling you using their computer to communicate with you.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Uhm.. who is this person?” I say, playing along.

“I am not allowed to tell you who the person is, but I can initiate a conversation.”

I smile for a second. The woman really sounds like a robot.

“What is this?” I ask. I am genuinely confused.

“IP Relay allows someone to talk to you while they are using an online service. They will type something, and I will read it to you while they type. You can respond, then you must say “Go Ahead” then I will type your response to the person.”

“Okay…” I reply.

“Is that a Go Ahead?”

“No….wait, I mean, okay to you, I still don’t know who that person is.”

“Are you going to initiate the chat?”

“Sure.”

“Is that a go ahead.”

“Yeah, Go ahead.”

I hear furious clicking of keys in the background. I wonder if she’s really typing. She has a flat monotone that doesn’t’ sound human. It is perfectly practiced and whatever questions I ask don’t seem to stimulate her emotionally. I wonder if she’s a new prototype from Japan.

“The conversation has been initiated. You may begin speaking.”

“Who is this?”

“Is that a go ahead?”

“Whoops, yes, Go ahead.”

More clicking. What would come next would be disturbing and also fascinating. The lady begins speaking.

“What do you mean you don’t know who this is? I let you come all over my face this weekend. How many deaf guys do you know?”

I froze. For two reasons. One, the lady said it with ZERO emotion but managed to somehow mimic it in a way that reminded me of any number of crazy ex-girlfriends. Two, Cum on who’s face?

“Okay, I get it. This is some kind of weird prank. What is this?” I say.

“Is that a go ahead?”

“No this is not a ‘Go Ahead’ I’m talking to you.”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m not allowed to speak to anyone while the chat is in session.”

“Well if you don’t tell me what this is then I’m hanging up. What is this?”

Silence.

I hang up, and look at the phone. This really is America, I think to myself. I pause my Sopranos episode on my computer and grab my bag, the day awaits.

End of daily log

We’ll see what happens. As the days go by and my scenarios get more bizarre, I also have to grow and change as a person… y’know, so the story can have meaning and what not. I just watched this film called 4 Months. It won the Palme d’Or at Cannes. Now that was a film. Ballsy.

I wonder If that lady is going to call me back.