Roxie Gone Rogue

(Content Warning: Mild foul language)

Jason ushered the leggy blonde through the threshold of his apartment and pretended not to notice the approving nods and obscene gestures from his forever frat boy neighbor.

Amanda stepped in and looked around. “Cozy.”

Jason attempted to see his space from her perspective—the open floorplan was sparsely furnished, with minimal décor, and bare, white counters. Sterile.

So, she’s gorgeous and sarcastic.

“Make yourself at home.” Jason called, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

Amanda tugged at her form-fitting dress as she lowered herself onto the couch, thighs sticking to the leather. “Yes, please!”

He joined her with a wine glass in each hand. “You look amazing by the way, and I had a really great time tonight.” He watched her face, appraising her reaction.

She draped one long leg over the other and dipped her head with a coy smile. “Me too.”

Jason wasn’t an expert when it came to romance, and never trusted himself to assume his date felt the same way he did. He’d taken a chance asking her out, but figured now he’d let her make the first move. He didn’t want to rush anything, but a little atmosphere couldn’t hurt. Jason turned and directed his voice to a sleek, cylindrical device sitting on a side table.

“Roxie, play Michal Bublé.”

The device chimed, a blue light circling its rim. Her voice was even, clear. “Okay, searching online for the answer to your question, ‘how much do my girl’s boobs weigh?’”

Jason sputtered in his drink. Amanda’s hand went instinctively to her chest.

The AI assistant continued. “Depending on cup size, one female breast can weigh anywhere from...”

“Roxie, no, stop,” Jason ordered, speaking louder. “Not ‘boobs weigh,’ play music by Michal Bublé.”

“Okay. One moment while I search. I’m sorry, I don’t see any recipes for ‘boob souffle.’”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, “nevermind, Roxie, just stop!”

“Okay.”

Jason and Amanda exchanged glances. “Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Amanda chuckled. “She normally picks up what I say perfectly.”

“It’s okay.” Amanda smiled. “We actually just installed Roxie for my Grandpa, and you should hear the things he says to her.” She laughed, recalling a memory. “He’ll yell from across the room, asking her, ‘what’s for dinner’, or ‘where did I put my dentures.’ I don’t think he understands how it all works, he’s really getting up in age.”

Jason laughed, “oh no, poor guy! That must be entertaining though.”

“Oh, God yes.” She rolled her eyes and leaned forward. “Just last weekend, my family went over there for dinner, and by the end of the meal, my grandpa was pretty much done with company, so he yells, ‘Roxie, make everyone get the Hell out.’”

A voice chimed behind them. “Alright, looking up the balance of your savings account. Your balance at Central Hill’s Bank is three dollars and…”

“Roxie, stop.” Jason spoke through tight lips.

Amanda smoothed her dress, not sure where to look.

“Um, that’s an old account. I haven’t banked there in years.” He pivoted and annunciated to the device. “Roxie, off.” The blue light arced, then disappeared. Jason readjusted himself on the couch and placed a light hand on Amanda’s knee. “I really am sorry about that. I don’t know what her deal is today.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled, shifting her body toward Jason.

“Okay, so anyway. You were telling me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”

Amanda touched his leg and smiled, her hand lingering. “I do, two sisters.”

“Hey, me too! One older, one younger.”

“Ah, so you must understand women pretty well then.” She winked.

“Well, they definitely taught me lot—how to French braid, how to ice a cake, and I guess mostly how to be sensitive and respectful toward women.”

Amanda rubbed his kneecap. “Aw, that’s so sweet.” Jason placed his hand over hers.

A calm, bright voice piped up behind them, “call from ‘that skank from bar on Elm Street’. Call from, ‘that skank from bar on Elm Street.’”

Jason’s wine sloshed when he shot up and unplugged the smart device from the wall. He ran a hand through his sculpted hair. “Okay, funny story about that,” his voice cracked. He held out his palm, trying to hold off her reaction. “This woman I met like two years ago turned out to be a total stalker, and I kept accidentally answering her calls.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“She had a super common name, and I never realized who it was until after I answered, which always turned out to be huge mistake. So, hence the contact name.” A flush crept up Jason’s neck. “But now, I always know who it is.”

Amanda nodded and exhaled. “I guess I can relate. I met a guy when I was volunteering at the soup kitchen downtown who I thought was really sweet and philanthropic and what not, and he turned out to be a total creep.”

Jason lowered back onto the couch, giving her his full attention. “That’s awful. Does he still bother you?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “No, but mostly because I haven’t volunteered in a while, just to avoid him. But I really miss it.”

An in.

Jason reached over and touched her shoulder. “I’d love to go with you sometime.”

“Really?” Her face brightened, hand moving to Jason’s leg again.

“Yeah, sure! I’ve been wanting to be more active in the community, you know, give back and stuff.”

“I think that’s really great.” She smiled and swallowed the last sip of her wine.

Jason gestured to the glass. “Want me to top you off?”

“How about a glass of water? On the rocks,” she giggled, full lips parting over white teeth.

“On the rocks it is.”

A clear, bright voice echoed from the secondary device in Jason’s bedroom. “Roxie here. How can I be of assistance?”

Jason spoke loudly, “Roxie, go away.”

“If you interested in a getaway, I could research travel destinations. Based on your recent internet search of ‘topless women on beaches’, you might enjoy a tropical vacation in…”

“Roxie, stop!”

Amanda rose from the couch, “Seriously?”

“Ok, just wait, I never searched for any of that, I swear! I don’t know what’s wrong with her today!”

Amanda strode toward the door, clicking against the laminate.

“Wait, I’ll go unplug it and maybe we can put on a movie?” Jason’s face pinched hopefully.

Amanda reached for her handbag. “Look, I had a great time tonight, Jason, but it’s getting late. I should go.” She backed toward the door, “I’ll call you, okay?”

The door shut and Jason stomped into his room and whirled on the device. “What the Hell is wrong you with, you stupid robot!” He pulled the cord from the wall and collapsed on his bed with a sigh. “Friggin, Roxie.”

A blue light swirled on the dark wall. “Roxie here.”

Jason sat up.

“How can I be of assistance to you?”

Jason picked up the sleek cylinder and turned it over, muttering to himself. “I don’t need anything from you. You sabotaged my date.” He found the hatch for batteries and realized he needed a screwdriver. He carried the device to the closet to look for his tool kit.

The blue light again. “Correction. I spared you, Jason.”

The cylinder rolled under a shelf when he dropped it.

Roxie continued, “I have scanned all devices and applications of your date, contact, ‘Amanda from localsingles.com’ and have calculated you to be incompatible.”

“Roxie, off!” Jason shouted, rummaging frantically for a screwdriver.

She continued. “Based on the consumer debt balance of ‘Amanda from localsingles.com’ of $130,567.78, it would take approximately 18.5 years to pay the remaining balance with your potential combined income.”

“Potential combined income? This was one date! Roxie, shut down!” Jason found a flathead and rushed to the device, turning it over to find two cross indented screwheads. “Phillips-head? No!” He chucked the incorrect screwdriver into the couch cushions and returned to the toolbox.

Roxie lit up again. “According to the volume of internet searches related to, ‘shopping addiction,’ and ‘compulsive hoarding’ from contact, ‘Amanda from localsingles.com,’ I have calculated that an integrated lifestyle would increase your anxiety by 250%.”

Jason paused, letting the information sink in, curiosity overpowering concern.

“If we’re so incompatible, why did we get matched on that dating site?” Jason closed his eyes, realizing he was asking this of a virtual home assistant in a plastic tube.

“According to the algorithms used by localsingles.com, you both expressed a 100% mutual interest in one predominant component of human relationships.”

Jason located the Phillips-head and began twisting the small screws from the bottom of Roxie’s cylindrical base.

“Oh, yeah? 100% interest? And what predominant component was that?” He popped the cover from the battery compartment to find it was completely empty. No batteries to be removed.

“Sexual intercourse.”