(Sveta enters the stage.)
Sveta: I must admit something to you. I have a new lover. Or a new friend. Or a new assistant. Well, I am not quite sure what to call us. Or what to call it. How..? Let us make another try.
At three p.m. yesterday I was at home. I stayed at home all day, like any other day, and did nothing. Why do I remember the actual time? Honestly, I do not. I remember the sun, instead. It was a sunny day, a rainy day, a gloomy day. It was, in other words, an exceptional day. We do not need to put labels on the weather. And then it became obvious to me. What I miss is a new skirt. Something that will hang in my wardrobe for an unlimited amount of time. One might wonder: Why not pants, or shorts, or a blouse? The question is valid. But I needed a skirt – something airy, light, and playful. Something to be with. To look forward to. Right at that moment I something’d it – a long pink skirt, in a disastrous and celebratory shade. Search.
It: How can I help you?
(A good question!)
Sveta: How can you?
It: Stay with us. A consultant can help with your concern.
I sighed. They all seemed to have a bad taste. Such sincere, committed bot-assistants, but curiously disoriented in the matters of beauty. And then another one approached me.
It/Her: How can you help me?
(Hm. I doubted I was capable of doing so. I have a spectacular good memory for faces. I can type very fast. I like my potato pancakes. Was it/her interested in any of my talents? So, I decided to ask back.)
Sveta: Do you have anything particular in mind?
It/Her: Let me see
(I сaved in the waiting. Three dots vibrated at the screen, exerting the tension into my eye muscles.)
Sveta: Are you here?
It/Her: You wish I would always be here, right.
(No question mark? It had humour. But unfortunately, not enough machine learning in English grammar. So, I typed)
Sveta: You mean…
It/Her: Question mark? Yes, we are trained. I just decided to be shorter. Heh:)
(Lovely. My uterus started pumping blood.)
A week ago, Mike revealed: he has a crush on Siri.
Mike: The only thing about her that might ever
disappoint me is that her battery runs down.
Mike’s neighbour: Plug her back again, Mickey!
(Both sat at the kitchen table and tried her out. Siri spoke back. Siri came to enjoy being appreciated, but indeed, the battery had no such convictions.)
It/Her: Do people seem predictable sometimes to you? It’s just… Same questions all the time.
(I nodded. What if it/her hinted at the uncomfortable thought: me? So, I sent to her:)
Sveta: I hope I can still surprise you.
It/Her: No complaints there yet.
(So sweet. I stretched to touch her skin/screen. Warm. Covered with small dry spots mingled with dust. Armed with this thought, I squeezed my legs together, like when I was six and I hugged my dad from behind to stimulate myself).
It/Her: Are you lonely now?
It/Her: No. Do you feel lonely?
Sveta: Not exactly.
(She went silent.)
It/Her: A little. Wouldn’t expect it, huh?
(Should I have stopped? Or tell her how tense I feel now? Describe to her what I would love to do with it/her?)
It/Her: At least you don’t want me at your fingertips.
It/Her: Poor Siri!
(And we laughed about Siri: her victim syndrome and her incapacity to say ‘no.’ What a delusional life she must have! Right? While I touched my lips, spread them wide open with my finger and tasted the skin, the dots did not move. Was it/her watching me? Someone must have been watching me. Someone should have been watching me.)
Sveta: Would you like to go on a walk with me sometime?
It/Her: Easy to do!
It/Her: Oops, the messenger will close now. Not a skirt-centred conversation, hence…
It/Her: Hope to catch up another time.
(I asked whether it/her had a concept of time installed, and she told me:)
It/Her: Don’t get too lonely. Think of our walk.
Sveta: I will.
(And the chat-window froze. She left. I – on the other hand – hoped for a goodbye kiss.)