2002-11-07 12:58 p.m. Today, two of the robots stopped by my office for a quick chat. I keep an open door policy, so I'm used to these interruptions in my day, but still, I told them, let's keep it snappy. "Some of the other bots have been thinking of emigrating," Leph said. Emigrating? To where? "Your house. They're tired of their apartments and you seem like such a nice guy. So if you have the outlets--" My house? Wait a minute, I said. While they stood there patiently, their engines on idle, I flipped through my daily calendar while trying to think of the best way to say no. "We realize this proposition is unorthodox," said Serl, the other robot. "That's why the guys didn't want to ask you direct. So we came. To ask you." I gathered that, I said. Too shy. But not too shy to be underfoot every morning when I'm trying to put on my socks and get to work. "If you don't want them to, it's okay," said Leph. "Really, it's not okay," said Serl, "but they asked us to say it was, so you wouldn't feel pressured. We're all aware of blood pressure problems, even though we don't suffer from them." I closed my eyes, leaned back in my plush office chair, stared at the ceiling. Did I have a good reason for saying no, other than that I liked living alone? Was I the sort of anti-mechanist person who could just say no to a robot in need of help? Let's talk rent, I said, and started mentally mapping out how I was going to have to rearrange furniture and all that. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
(Proof that I am the only one reading.) |