The Trouble With Transporters

"Did you try restarting the transporter?"

"Seriously? Do you think I'd call if it were that easy?"

The tech support guy stared blankly at me with the fakest smile ever. He didn't blink once.

"Hello!" I banged my call screen.

"Yes, sir. Did you try restarting?"

"Are you listening? Of course, I did!"

The tech guy's fake smile widened, and he spewed out several more suggestions, each one more basic than the first. I parried his suggestions with ease – this isn't the first time I've messed with this transporter – until I had enough. I demanded he send a repair droid immediately.

"How soon will he be here? I need my package before my wife gets home."

"Not long. Lucky for you, our best repair droid is nearby." The tech guy laughed. I failed to see the humor and shrugged it off as odd behavior from an odd guy.

An hour passed before I heard a droid land outside my door. Its chrome body displayed the transporter company's logo on its chest: a package on one side of the world and a dematerialized package on the other, with Transporter Logistics Inc. emblazoned in blue lettering.

"This way!" I shouted. "She gets off work in an hour! Hurry!"

"You are anxious. I have programmed myself to counsel humans dealing with anxiety. Would you like me to counsel you?"

"What?!"

"I could counsel you on dealing with anxiety."

"Are you crazy? I need you to fix my transporter. If I'm anxious, it's because you haven't fixed my transporter."

"That is incorrect. You were anxious before I arrived."

"Seriously? I can't believe this." I ran my fingers through my hair. My wife will kill me if she finds out I lied about buying her anniversary gift. It's not even my fault. She ambushed me, and I panicked. I didn't plan to lie. It just happened.

"Acceptance is key to overcoming anxiety," the droid said.

"Acceptance? What are you talking about?"

"The five keys to overcome anxiety. Acceptance is the first key."

"Okay, I need you to focus. The best thing you can do for me is to fix my transporter. It's imperative."

"I believe I could be more helpful if I counseled you."

I ran my fingers through my hair, took a deep breath, and calmly said, "Believe me. You would be immensely more helpful if you just fixed my transporter. I need to get my wife's gift that she believes I've already got."

"I could do both."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll work on the transporter and counsel you simultaneously. I'm more than capable of doing both."

"Sure! Why not! If that's what it takes to get you to work – counsel away!"

The droid deployed four additional arms from his sides and went to work.

"First, it's important to know that ninety-six point four percent of the time, the things that make one anxious never happen."

"Is that so?"

He blurted out many more facts I paid no attention to, nodding and humming enough to make him believe I was listening.

"Have you been beating your transporter?" The droid stopped working and turned towards me in an accusatory manner.

The abrupt change of subject threw me for a loop. I tripped over my words, searching for a believable lie.

"Maybe. I don't recall."

"I need an affirmative or negative answer. It will speed the repair."

"Fine! Yes. More than once. Actually, now that I think about it, way more than once."

"Are you attempting to deal with your anxiety by beating your transporter?"

"I am not dealing with anxiety!"

"That is the problem. You must deal with anxiety if you ever hope to overcome it."

"Oh! My!" I bit my tongue. "You are insufferable!" I counted to ten and took a deep breath. I had to be calm. I couldn't afford for the droid to leave, claiming verbal abuse. I checked the time. My wife will be home in thirty minutes. If I want this droid to get to work, I'll have to patronize him.

The droid appeared to be hurt. "I should leave. I'll have another engineer sent to fix your transporter."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just mad at the transporter."

He perked up, "It's perfectly understandable. Bursts of anger are symptoms of anxiety."

"I can see now I clearly need help to overcome this wretched condition?"

If he were capable of beaming with pride, he'd be a lighthouse. The six arms returned to work, and he continued counseling, "Anxiety produces stress which is harmful to your well-being."

"You don't say."

"I do say. Studies have proven it." The droid went on and on while I zoned out. I only checked back in to make sure he was still working.

The droid stopped and asked me a question.

Realizing he paused, I stammered, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted freedom from anxiety."

"You bet I do. As a matter of fact, I made up my mind. I'm quitting anxiety for good. Cold turkey."

"It's not that easy. You must first go through the five keys: accept, release, refresh, guard, and replace."

"I have to learn all that? I can't just quit?"

"Studies show the five keys to be ninety-five percent more effective than other methods."

"What if I'm really lucky and part of the five percent?"

That stumped the droid. It took him a minute to respond. "Ninety-five percent means it never happens."

"That's not correct. Ninety-five percent means the other methods are more successful five times out of a hundred."

The droid recalculated. I could almost smell the smoke from his overworked circuitries. "You are correct. I need to update my programming. I'm sorry, but I can not counsel you any longer. I'll finish your transporter and be on my way."

The droid finished his repairs with ten minutes to spare. I made my order and had it gift-wrapped. It materialized perfectly. I turned to thank the droid and went into shock. My wife had come home early. She stood with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. She saw me transport her present, and knew I lied.

I searched for an explanation she'd believe but couldn't think of anything. I turned to the droid and asked, "Is there any chance you programmed yourself in anger management?"