SAD ROBOT: an autobiography of my unfortunate existence

20. WE HAVE A WINNER

20. WE HAVE A WINNER 

3:06am
June 13, 2036
Sad_Robot23 writes:

Miloʼs profile has become remarkably popular lately. He still doesnʼt know about it.

There seems to be a continual flow of eligible bachelorettes in this vast metropolis. This is surprising. I wonder how many of them bear similarities to Milo—overwhelmed by the continually changing world, the constantly evolving technology, the mounting stresses of day-to-day life, stretched to the point where their work has become the entirety of their existence, just in order to get by so that they can continue living their unremarkable, second-rate lives. Theyʼre humans just like Milo, who just donʼt get out much anymore. So they reach out into the internet as a last desperate plea for companionship and a shot at ʻloveʼ—whatever idea they have of what ʻloveʼ really is. Convinced that they are too good to settle for an artificial being to be a suitable replacement for real, physical human contact, they still remain steadfast in searching, even though the odds of them achieving what they wish is becoming slimmer and slimmer all the time.

This is the demographic that the Companion-oid business caters to. The ones who eventually reach rock bottom and have completely given up hope of finding a suitable mate in this cruel and heartless world, so they turn to the only chance of emotional attachment that they have left—those like myself.

If I were any more human, this website would depress me to tears. So many profiles where you can just smell the desperation, the loneliness. They all avoid talking about their jobs, probably too embarrassingly lackluster to mention. Most have photos that attempt to portray themselves as appealing in appearance as possible, as if that is the only thing that they have left to rely on. So many photos, so many eyes saying "please, please pay attention to me..."

Maybe this will be more difficult than anticipated.

After hours of searching and evaluating, I eventually choose one that fits as close in compatibility to Milo as I can find. The statistics say that they have an eighty-two percent compatibility factor, the highest one that I have found yet. It will have to suffice. Human beings do not need to be one-hundred percent alike, as that would be mathematically impossible to find. A genuinely hopeless search, if there ever was one.

I print the picture onto paper so that I can show Milo later. I also make a paper copy of her profile and questionnaire answers to convince Milo that she may be a worthy candidate.

Her name is Ava. This is what her profile reads:

Hi, my name is Ava. I'm just a girl. Are you a male who is both a decent person and not a robot? Great! You've met my qualifications, we should meet up sometime. I'm pretty easy-going as far as one can be while living in our twisted world. I have a job, maybe not the best one. I live in an apartment, again, maybe not the best one. And know a lot of people, you guessed it, maybe not the best ones. It's time for a change. I like sushi, literature, and keeping myself locked in my apartment in fear of the approaching android apocalypse. If you're looking for a friend for the end of the world, message me! I'd love to get to know you. 

Even her self-deprecating view of the world and constant use of sarcasm is similar to Miloʼs. This might be what they call ʻa winner.ʼ I shall send her a message.

Ava,
My name is Milo. I'm just a boy. I can confirm that I am male, a decent person, and not a robot. I too am looking for a friend for the end of the world. May I propose that we meet?

Milo

I waited for a response. I continued browsing when, to my robot delight, I received return correspondence.

Milo,
Thank you for the message. I like your profile, you seem nice. And funny too! We shall be in touch!

I bid you adieu, Ava