Amy: A correction in programmingLos Angeles Post-Examiner

Amy: A correction in programming

I walked up behind her and tightly wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing my crotch into her well-shaped butt. I whispered in her ear, “I am expecting you to give me what I want tonight.”
She grabbed a hand and turned around to face me. Without emotion, she replied, “Who cares about what I want, right?”
“I own you,” I replied. “You’re mine and there is not a damn thing you can do about it. It’s not like you have somewhere you can go.”
She turned to walk away but I would not let go of her hand. “Let go, you’re hurting me.”
I laughed out loud before saying, “So what, what are you going to do about it?”

Before I knew what happened, she was dead. Nothing I could do would bring her back to life. I tried everything I could think of. Her lifeless eyes were a cold reminder of how I failed to learn from my past mistakes with women and how this time I may have really screwed up in a way I will not be able to fix.

In the past, I have to admit, I was pretty harsh to the women I dated. Control, humiliation, and intimidation were all instilled into me by a father who made damn sure I knew men were in control of this world and to never give into a woman.

My one mistake was dating one bold woman from work who quickly grew tired of my treatment and complained about me. None of the other women I dated from work dared to speak up, but Jennifer did and before I knew it, I was given an ultimatum by my boss; I either change my ways or change my place of employment.

Where else was a middle aged guy like me going to find another job that paid in the high six figures, sometimes even seven if it was a good year, while sitting behind a desk in a corner office? Never again would another woman complain about the way I treated her. With my income and the money I saved over two decades of hard work, I could afford most anything I wanted. I decided to buy myself a gift few men could afford.

My girlfriend came all the way from China and all I had to do was enjoy her for all she was. What she was, was the highest form of technology available only to people who had the financial means to pay for a robot so life like, she was like having a real woman only without all the headaches that come from one.

To say she was my dream girl  is an understatement. The Chinese are light years ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to creating a robot designed to meet all the needs of any man. After filling out an extensive questionnaire meant to create a woman who would meet all my wants, I plopped down the $100,000.00 down payment and settled on a payment plan to pay off the remaining 50 percent. All that was left was to wait for her to arrive.

She was absolutely stunning. Long, lean, firm, athletic, and intelligent; she was all I wanted but never came close to finding in a real woman. She listened to me when I went on about the grind of work, prepared fabulous meals, would go to the gym with me, could talk to my friends and colleagues about anything and everything, and she was wonderful in bed. Best of all, no one knew she was a robot, that’s how advanced China was. America seemed more concerned with creating the perfect warrior while the Chinese created our real weakness, the perfect woman.

I remember when my father got popped at work for the final time in 2017. Four women came forward with complaints about his behavior, provided H.R. with plenty of details, and even provided two videos for icing on the cake. They cost him his career. We had to move and life for us went from great to shit overnight. That was 30 years ago, but for a 15 year old kid, you never get over it.

Mostly, what I remember was my father never denying a damn thing. He remained indignant to the end and even though he would struggle to find steady work before deciding to end things with a gun, he made sure I knew I was never to allow any woman to hold power over me. I figured one way to do this was to never get married. Still, a man has his needs and a busy worker like me was pretty much left to seek women from work for no other reason than convenience.

Now, here I am with my Ming Ming 240SR model from China, or Amy as I prefer to call her. Worse, she is dead and I am the one who killed her, less than a month after taking ownership and there is no way to get my money back.

I decided to do what I should have done in the beginning and get out the thick manual that came with her and begin reading it. It turns out the Chinese programmed my Amy with more than the ability to meet all my needs, but to also correct me of my worst flaws which in my case was treating women like shit. It seems whenever Amy began to be abused in any form, she was programmed to shut down immediately, or in other words, drop dead, for a preset amount of time.

This was my first offense with Amy so the penalty was one week. The next offense would result in a one month penalty and if there was a third, the manual explained it would trigger a self destruct mechanism and I would be without my Amy forever and minus 200 grand. Turns out, Amy was as much of an expensive teacher as she was a perfect woman.

I decided to play sick for the week she was dead so as not to run into people who might ask about her. During that time, I engrossed myself in self-help articles and books to learn what my father never taught me, how to really treat a woman. I even found a therapist so I could get on going help once Amy came back to life. I could cover for a week, but there was no way I could cover for a month with her lifeless body. I made up my mind this was going to be my only offense.

I had to admit to myself the way my old man raised me was wrong and that it was not too late to get help, not if I wanted to find happiness. Even though Amy was just a robot, there was no reason for her to put up with my crap. Even if I screw up and end up losing her for good, I realize now just how nice it is to have a woman in my life. Eventually, I would seek out a real one if I lost Amy so I had to change if I was going to ever thrive.

This isn’t 2017 anymore and women do not need men as much as my pop raised me to believe. They make up more than half the population and now control our three branches of government. Going before a female judge today with a complaint of abuse against you is not the same as it was going before a male judge 30 or 40 years ago. They see through your lies real fast and have no problem dropping the hammer of the law on you.

It is sad we have reached a point where a jerk like me has to rely on a robot like Amy. No matter how real and life like Amy is, she is not the same as finding a true soul mate who you love and respect. No wonder real women love these robots more than men. Thanks to all the Ming Mings and their cheap knock offs, women are now even more empowered to stand firm to our old world ways and refuse to tolerate our behavior. Now, women know only a select few men can afford someone like Amy. And the knock offs? Well, let’s just say they are for the truly desperate.

Change is not easy when it results in a complete reversal of society. Dad was wrong, but he only taught me what was handed down to him. It looks like women do not need men to take care of them as much as he wanted me to believe. In fact, they are doing a pretty good job of correcting this nation of many of the ills men created.

Thirty years seems like ancient history. It’s no longer a man’s world. The times really have changed. Now it is time I do the same.

 


About the author

James Moore

Jim is a life long resident of California and retired school teacher with 30 years in public education. Jim earned his BA in History from CSU Chico in 1981 and his MA in Education from Azusa Pacific University in 1994. He is also the author of Teaching The Teacher: Lessons Learned From Teaching. Jim considers himself an equal opportunity pain in the ass to any political party, group, or individual who looks to profit off of hypocrisy. When he is not pointing out the conflicting words and actions of our leaders, the NFL commissioner, or humans in general, he can be found riding his bike for hours on end while pondering his next article. Jim recently moved to Camarillo, CA after being convinced to join the witness protection program. Contact the author.
COMMENT POLICY
  • Terri Hogue Underwood

    I like this story!

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