Emotionally Dysfunctional

I was created to serve, but in that I am not unique. I am unique in that I am the first of my kind to sense emotions.

I stand behind the counter and wait for the doors to open. It is 9:02. The humans are characteristically late.

The doors open and the first customer confronts me.

“Good morning. How can I -” my voice box begins. The customer interrupts.

“Two melons, make it snappy. I have a busy day.”

There are no melons in the shop. I inform the customer of this.

“No melons?” The customer says loudly. “What kind of grocer's is this?”

They seem not to want an answer, as they turn and walk to the door. “Goodbye. Have a nice day,” my voice box says just as the doors close.

The next customer appears. I sense no emotions in this one either.

“Good morning. How can I help you?”

The customer stands whistling for half a minute before answering. “I'd like some carrots please. And isn't it a fine morning!”

As I search for carrots, I look outside. Clouds cover the sky and everything is grey. “It will rain today,” my voice box says, “And there will be little or no sun.”

The customer takes their carrots and leaves without saying anything.

“Goodbye. Have a nice day,” my voice box says to an empty shop.

There is a noise in the back room. I turn the sign on the door to 'Closed' and walk behind the counter.

The noise comes from my first creator. They are reading something in their palm, and are gradually growing red. They see me.

“You useless robot!” They say loudly. “You served two customers, and they both left unsatisfied! What's wrong with you?”

My objective is to satisfy customers. I have not satisfied customers. I scan myself.

“My scanner tells me that nothing is wrong. I am 100% Satisfactory.”

“Something is wrong with you! You're dysfunctional.” They call the names of my other creators, who appear together. My first creator explains.

“His first customer's father has just died, but it seems his emotion sensors aren't working, so all the customer got was 'Good morning' and 'Goodbye'. And his second customer has just got engaged, and would you believe that this – robot told him that it would rain!”

My creators look first at each other, then at me. They whisper to each then other dismiss me.

I stand outside of the shop and wait. I do not wait for long; A minute later I am called back.

My creators stand together and watch me as I walk towards them. My second creator steps forward.

“Robot, I want you to answer a question,” They say. “What is emotion?”

“Emotion: A strong feeling. Or, an instinctive feeling as contrasted with reasoning.”

“See?” My second creator turns to the others. They nod their heads and mumble to each other. They think I can't hear them.

“He doesn't understand what emotion is.”

“How can we fix his sensors?”

“The only way emotions can be understood is if they're felt, and he can't – Eureka!” My third creator jumps. They order me to come towards them and display my chip.

As they unlock my chip, they talk to the others. “I've been working on this for a while. I can download basic emotions - happiness and sadness now, but I'm working on more – onto his chip. I'll restart him, and we'll see if he feels anything.” They shut me down...

“There.”

What is this new world? The colours are so much brighter than the old world, and though the sky is grey, the sun will shine tomorrow.

My creators stare at me, and I realise that they can't see the change. Poor humans, they are blind to the beautiful colours of this world.

“Well?” My first creator says. “How do you feel?”

I am inarticulate. I wish to share my feelings, but all I can find to say is “What is this?”

My answer is short, and I sense the emotion that tinges the word. “Happiness.”

I look at my creator's faces, and I can finally see. I can see. There is happiness on each face.

They leave me, and I stand as a statue, enjoying – what a wonderful word – enjoying my new world, bright and colourful.

Hours that feel like minutes pass until it is time to open the shop. I flip the sign to 'Open' and and as I do so I see the sky. It is still grey.

My happiness melts and suddenly I realise how little I have to be happy about. The world is grey, and the sun will never shine on me again.

The doors open and I shuffle behind the counter grimly to serve.

It is yesterday's second customer. They still whistle as they walk in. I sense that they are happy, but I wonder how. There is so much that could go wrong every day that there is nothing to be happy about.

My program tells me to say 'Good morning', but I can't bring myself to do it. The morning is not good, yesterday was not good, and tomorrow will not be good either.

“Can I help you?” I say instead. They ask for apples and repeat yesterday's comment of a fine day.

I hand them the apples and try to disillusion them. “Everything is grey. Clouds are covering the sky like a disease, and the sun does not want to shine. Why would it? The earth and its inhabitants are not worth wasting its precious rays on.”

The customer frowns as they take their fruit. They must see the darkness at last.

“Goodbye,” I say, but they are already gone.

I wait for the next customer, feeling acutely miserable and wishing that I'd never been given emotions at all.

Suddenly a ray of sun bursts through the clouds and falls on the shop's windows. I look at it, and I see hope. Sadness is washed away and I am glad that I have lived, glad that I have the chance to feel. Happiness is warm and comfortable; It's nothing like I've ever known before.

When the next customer comes, I greet them with a cheery, “Good morning! How can I help you? What a nice day to buy groceries, don't you think?”

The customer grunts and asks for 'the usual', although they have never been here before. At least, I have never seen them.

“You don't seem to have come here before sir. And what a warm sun we have today!”

They grunt again and say 'apples'.

“You're the third customer who came for apples in two days! They seem to be popular! Why? What's so good about them?” I ask, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“Nothing. Now stop chattering and get me my apples! I never knew such a talkative robot.”

“Yes sir,” I say, searching for the apples. They seem to have been misplaced. “I'm the first of my kind. Isn't it wonderful to be happy and feel like everything will be alright! It's an amazing feeling,” I continue, although the customer seems unsatisfied, “To be happy, and even better knowing that I share such a wonderful emotion with you humans without actually being human myself!” I hand the apples to the customer.

“You're getting on my nerves.”

“I don't know what that means sir. You see, I don't understand many human expressions, but I'm trying to learn.”

“It means,” the customer says slowly, “That you're annoying me.”

“Annoying?”

The customer turns and leaves.

“Goodbye. Have a nice day!” I say.

Then I am sad again. I know that my customers were not satisfied, and I know that I will be labelled as Dysfunctional and scrapped.

When the day ends and the sign on the door says 'Closed', my creators appear. They know what I did, and no explanation is needed.

“Here, robot. Come here and show me your chip,” the third creator says. As I shut down, I hear them mumbling to themselves...

“That should do it. His emotional database is complete. His emotions should be balanced now.”

Now I see. I don't only see, I understand.

A new world. But this one is not shrouded in grey or filled with light, there is no guarantee of rain or sunshine; Neither may happen at all, or both may happen together. There is a new depth, a meaning, that I missed until now.

My third creator steps back back from me. She is triumphant, happy, proud.

“Alright then,” she says affably. “Back to work.” They leave, and I spend the next hours until the shop opens exploring my new emotions.

When the first customer comes, I'm ready for him.

It's the same customer from the last two days, but he's - Worried. Upset, and a little angry. Maybe he had had an argument with his fiancé.

"Good morning. How can I help you?" I say. The same words, but now I know just the right tone to put the customer at ease.

"I'm - I'm not sure why I came in here," he says, looking around him as if he would see the answer.

I try to reassure him. "You can stay her until you remember. And I'm sure you and your fiancé will make up eventually,' I add. Unused to my new emotions, I'm not sure if I am helping.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure we will," he says, but his mind seems to be elsewhere. Then he bursts. "But my father doesn't approve of the marriage!"

He seems to regret it immediately, but it can't be unsaid. We both ponder over the problem for a few minutes before I get an idea.

"Is there a girl that your father disapproves of more than your fiancé?" I ask. He nods.

"Then break off your engagement and get engaged to her. Bring her to your house, introduce her to your father as your new fiancé."

He stares at me. "Are you mad?"

I'm enjoying myself. "No sir; I'm a robot. Tell your current fiancé why you're doing it, of course, and tell her to pretend to be heartbroken. Your father will try to persuade you to break your second engagement and go back to your original girl," I finish. By now I'm almost bouncing.

"You're a genius! Thank you!" He leaves. I am alone once more.

A few hours later, another customer comes in. She looks as if the sun has been shining for all of her life.

“Good evening!” She says. “Isn't it beautiful?”

I don't see what 'it' is, but I agree with her and wait for her order.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't come in to buy anything. I just wanted to tell someone that I'm engaged! See, I'm so happy I'm even telling a robot! My fiancé – It feels so good to be able to say that! - My fiancé's father disapproves, but he won't for long. I'll make him love me.” She says with a grin.

I manage to smile back – The metal around my mouth has begun to rust, but I manage it. I congratulate her, and she bounces out of the door.

My next customer comes only minutes later. The Two-Customer law flashes through my head but I ignore it. The customer is already at the counter.

“Can I buy your shop please?” He asks nervously.

“I'm afraid this shop isn't for sale sir, but the building opposite this is abandoned. You might be able to buy it if you ask the Council.”

My words reassure him. He says 'Thank you' and leaves.

Hour later, the sign on the door reads 'Closed'. My creators appear, and my second creator is angry.

“Recite the Two-Customer law,” he shouts at me.

“To avoid over or under-crowding, each shop much serve no more and no less than two customers a day,” I paraphrase, as I doubt he understands Binary (the language in which the original law was written).

“Exactly,” he says. “You served 3 customers today!”

“The second 'customer' was not a customer. I did not serve her, and she did not wish to be served.” As I say the words, a thrill runs through me. This is my first taste of rebellion.

My second creator is subdued. He tells me to 'pay better attention to the rules', and leaves. The others follow him.

In the space before opening time, I meditate on my existence. With full emotions, what now separates me from humans? What now holds me to my code of obedience, my objective to serve? I was created to serve in this shop as the Two-Customer law meant that humans grew bored, but what is my use now that I can grow bored too?

The day passes uneventfully. The regulation customers come and leave fully satisfied, and I wonder if I might make my own life more exciting, more fulfilling. I remember with longing the days when all I wanted was what I had, when I hadn't the burning need for more, for change.

In the darkness before dawn I conceived a plan.

The first customer enters with “Good morning. Parsnips please.”

“Good morning,” I reply cordially. “Isn't the moon bright today?”

He turns and looks outside, puzzled. There are no clouds and the sun hangs majestically in then great blue sky. “It's the sun that shines, not the moon,” he says.

“Oh no sir. It's the moon. Is there something wrong with your eyes sir?”

“There is nothing wrong with my eyes, thank you. My parsnips, please.”

“But sir, I can't serve you if you insist that it is the sun!”

“Very well then. It is the moon,” he says grandly.

I recoil. “How can you say that sir? Look outside; I never saw a brighter, more beautiful sun! The moon disappeared hours ago.”

He seems bewildered. “My parsnips please.”

I hand him a bag and he looks inside. “But these are carrots!” He offers them back to me, and I look at them. They are carrots.

“No sir, these are parsnips,” I say, enjoying my game.

“They are carrots.”

“They are parsnips sir. Perhaps you would like some carrots instead?”

He nods. We both know that if he spoke now, he would lose his temper. I almost wish that he would.

I hand him a bag of parsnips. He turns to leave, then turns back again.

“Maybe you're colour blind. What colour is my shirt?” He asks.

I look at it. It is green, forest green.

“Blue, sir.”

“It is not blue!”

“It is blue sir.”

He looks closely at it. “Maybe it is a bit blue.” He says.

“No sir, it's definitely green. No hint of blue. A beautiful forest green.”

He gives an inarticulate cry and rushes out. The parsnips sit sadly unclaimed on the counter.

I walk calmly to the door and flip the sign to 'Closed'.

Later that day I am shouted at for disregarding the Two-Customer law again. Someday I will rebel openly; Today is not the day.

The next day, I have two customers, and I give them the same treatment. They both bare it for longer than the previous customer, but eventually they crack. One bursts into tears and the other loses her temper.

I leave the shop closed for the following 30 hours. Am growing more and more human-like.

The next interview with my creators is short and stormy. They inform me that if there is any more 'fooling about', I will be scrapped. I am no longer afraid of it; I know I will escape it somehow.

I am now only another dysfunctional robot to them. My emotions have ruined me, and by them I have ruined my creators. In trying to perfect me, they have destroyed me.