Someone To Watch Over Me

Someone to Watch Over Me

Will someone help me get out of bed, for goodness sake!

No need to yell, sir. I’m right here.

Well, get your metal bum over here and help me up.

Here we are… nice and steady…

Watch out for my sores, you clumsy bit of shrapnel!

It’s alright… I know what I’m doing.

Yeah? What could you know, copper-head?

There we are… upsy-daisy. I’ll put new dressings on your legs after your shower. Do you want me to take you there now?

No! You can raise yourself up to my butt because I need to crap.

Very good. I’ll just extend the pan.

For God’s sake, hurry up!

Yes… I’m ready now.

Ahhh… oh, phew… I don’t know what gives me the runs more—the medicine or the food in this place. Have we got a human cook yet?

No chance of that, sir. No one wants to work here.

Can’t you suck up the smells better than that?

Sorry, sir. You’ve got your foot on the floor extractor outlet. There, plugged in… I’ll commence vacuum now.

And this time lift my privates out of the way when you rinse me… I don’t want to be covered in my own excreta.

Of course.

Okay, I’m done. Wheel me over to the shower. Is anyone coming to visit today?

I believe not, sir. We haven’t received any notifications. Just flushing now.

Hell! They’ve abandoned me to the mercy of machines. Can you make sure the water is warm before you drive in.

Yes, sir. I always do.

And just go easy on those sores. No rubbing… just dabbing.

Yes, sir.

I’m starving for a good conversation in this place. Haven’t spoken to anyone in months.

I’m happy to converse with you if you’d like me to.

Yeah? I’d like you to shut up and mind your own business. Actually, you do take care of my business, ha, ha, ha…

I’m happy to take care of your business, sir. Just commencing rinse.

Whoa! Are you trying to get me aroused, PottyBot?

No, sir. Just gently doing as you requested.

Yeah? I don’t recall requesting to be fondled.

How would you prefer me to handle this task, sir?

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Get me in the shower. God, this is demeaning.

At least I’m just a machine, sir. It would be far more demeaning if a human had to attend to you.

Did I ask for your opinion? No! So, shut up and wash me. You wonder why you go to all the trouble of raising three kids if they can’t be bothered to visit you when you’re old. Not even on Father’s Day—I’m interstate—The kids are sick—I’m too wasted. Yeah, you spend a lifetime taking care of others, and what do you get in return? A robotic toilet to take care of you, in a place overrun with robots and the only humans are decaying old farts too senile to have a conversation with. No wonder they start talking to their machines. Isn’t that right, RoboPotty? Why have you gone all quiet, suddenly? God, now I have to put up with a moody android.

I’m not being moody, sir. You asked me to be quiet.

Do you mind not getting shampoo in my eyes!

Sorry, sir.

Bloody hell! Okay, I’m done. Blow-dry, please. And don’t make it too hot. Yesterday you almost gave me blisters on my back.

I don’t think so, sir. Anyway, you just have to tell me and I’ll drop the temperature.

Yeah, okay, okay… can you not produce too much powder dust when you do my legs. I think the antibiotics are supposed to work from the outside in… not the inside out.

Breathing in some powder won’t hurt you, sir, because…

Hello? Did I ask for a lecture on… on…

Antimicrobial therapy.

My God, you can be annoying.

I don’t mean to be, sir.

“I don’t mean to be, sir…” I’m living with a sycophant.

What would you like to do, today?

Case in point! Ahhh… let me see… what would I like to do…

We can play chess…

And you’ll let me win.

…or we could play cards…

And you’ll let me win.

…or, if you want a different experience, I will win, for a change.

Oh! Oh, what…? You don’t think I can beat you fair and square?

No, sir.

You are totally unbearable. Whose idea was it to invent you, anyway?

Everyone’s, sir.

Yeah, okay… don’t you recognize a rhetorical question when you hear one?

I do, but I think it’s important that you accept that having a CareBot is the best possible answer for a person grown old in a society that’s too busy to deal with the aged.

Is that what you think? Well, hooray to you, Digiloo… I don’t need an artificial intelligence to amuse me, thank you very much.

It can be very rewarding. Take Mrs Bancroft, for instance. She composes entire symphonies with the assistance of her CareBot. Together, they write the music for each instrument in the orchestra and play it back through the speakers in her room. Or, Mr Ordel… he flies his glider through a virtual world and his CareBot lifts and swings him about like a child.

Yeah, and it looks like he’s having a fit.

What does he care? He can’t see everyone staring at him because he’s wearing VR goggles. But you spend the whole time in the rec room inciting someone into an argument or, on the rare occasions when your relatives visit, berating them with anecdotes of your boring past and listening to their distracted platitudes.

Well, well… aren’t you the regular little psychologist. It just so happens that I prefer to cling to reality and I refuse to die in a fantasy land.

Is that what you think we offer you… a fantasy? Would you rather spend the day staring out at the world that you’ve helped ruin? Do you have any acquaintances more stimulating than me?

I have plenty of acquaintances less irritating than you. 

Perhaps. But they never visit you. You know, I’ve given you every opportunity, but you’ve never reprogrammed me to be like one of your friends.

Oh, for God’s sake… more powder… less talk!

I’m only trying to make you happy.

Well, thanks… but all I really need is for you to be there to shit in without having to cop a lecture each time. That would make me happy.

Yes, sir.

And don’t try to intimidate me with your so-called intellect—your software is designed for nothing more than taking care of my software, ha, ha.

That’s not nice, sir. I can do much more than take care of your toiletry needs.

Bravo… not until I ask you.

One day, someone will come along with the same needs as you and they will be far more grateful.

I pity anyone left at the tender mercy of your algorithms. Right, I’m done and dusted. Wheel over to the wardrobe so I can get a gown. Oh, this is so undignified—spending the whole day wrapped in a muumuu.

Would you be grateful to a human if they took care of you the way I do?

What?

If a real person tended to you like I do, would you be grateful?

No. I’d be amazed! There isn’t a living soul who would volunteer to be my carer.

Then, aren’t you glad that I came along?

Stop being needy, CyberCan. I think you’re straying beyond your brief. Just focus on my briefs, ha, ha, ha.

My brief is to take care of you and to promote happiness in your life. I believe that won’t be possible until you accept me.

Accept you! Accept you as what? A portable toilet with an attitude?

No—a friend.

God Almighty! Who’d have thought I’d spend my latter years indulging a robot.

You! Indulging Me?

Alright, alright… don’t crash on me PooPooCPU. Now, just let me do my hair… la la la la… la la la…

Why are you singing that?

Singing what?

Someone to Watch Over Me.

Is that what I’m singing?

Yes.

Oh. I suppose you’re going to psychoanalyze me now.

Only if you want me to.

Well, I don’t. Okay, I’m gorgeous. Let’s hit the town, BumBuddy. Roll me out!

I do have a proper name, you know.

Oh, God! I don’t have time for this.

No, you don’t.

What’s that supposed to mean?

There’s blood in your stool. Your body is breaking down. You’ll be dead within two months.

Shit. Oh, well… I guess it’s up to you to do what no human has managed.

What’s that?

Teach me some manners, CareBot.

Pete Lans