Short Story - Silicon Chip (2)

silicon chip Part two, Tracy sat on Dr Havenstein sofa with both hands wrapped around a mug of herbal tea. Is this necessary? She asked the doctor, who sat on a nearby chair with a pad and pencil. I know Morris is in the hospital and that the two of us managed to crash the Emanu Insee servers around the entire world in addition to burning down his apartment. But these were all just accidents. I don't have anger management issues. What about the electro bucky that you drove into the campus? Lake said Dr Havenstein, You do realize the company has had to re house 45 carp on two families of ducks while it's being removed. Tracy looked guilty. Okay, maybe that wasa bit extreme, but you should try driving with my mom. I mean, she your mom. I mean, my chat pot. Her name. Its name is Mom. Dr. Havenstein made a little note on her pad. I see. Well, the H R department has made it a condition of your and Morrissey's continued employment of Amazon Google that you both take some sessions with me. So why don't you just tell me what brought you here? okay. Tracy was silent for a while, then sighed and sat back in the sofa. It all started when I went around to Morris's apartment after work. Wow, Tracy, you look wonderful, Morris says to me, is he opens the door trip. This is Tracy. She's a co worker. How do you miss? Tracy says Trip Chip is Morrissey's chap. Pot. Morris has been talking about you and running around like a chicken with its head cut off ever since he got home. He tells me you're planning to work on a project together this evening, right? Um, sure, I answer, as Morris makes faces that tell me not to contradict his story. But let's see. First, Morris adds quickly, Chip, is our food ready? Sure. His buddy boy, that French Delhi you told me to order it from is a lot pricier than Pizza Palace. But it looks wowee, we said on the balcony tweet, sipping some California Chardonnay and admiring the view of the bay. As the sun slowly sets, the food is as good as Chip has promised. Andi, the mood is romantic, or at least it would be if Chip didn't keep interrupting us with information about sports scores, number of calories in the food. We're currently eating a new organic bakery that's opened in San Francisco, and so on. Morris, I whisper after Chip tells us why vitamins are added to bread flour. Can you make chip? Shut up? Give me a moment, Morris whispers back. I'll deal with him. He goes into the living room, and I hear an argument taking place that ends with the final course. A chocolate souffle for to being launched at high speed, out of the food hatch on DNA, nearly going over the edge of the table. Chip is acting hurt, but at least now there's no commentary about whether the eggs are organic or only free. Range better, asks Morris. When we've finished, would you like some music? Or maybe we carry on from where we left off last night. I suggest we've gotten as far as the bedroom, and things are getting pretty steamy when the doorbell rings. Well, I in surprised silence for a minute, but then it rings again. Chip, tell whoever it is, I'm busy, Morris hisses. So now I'm supposed to talk, asks Chip. You said you didn't want to hear anything else for me this evening. Just do it or I'll short circuit you. Chip makes a sound that's something like a sniff. And then we hear soft voices by the front door. Miss Tracy says, Chip, after a while your mother is here would like to see you right now. Morris's hand disappears from inside my T shirt like a spider's just bidden it, and I'm out of the bedroom and by the front door about a nano second. After that, outside is theologically tro buggy. I used for driving over Hey, Chip, who is that? You, young lady? Says the loud speaker mounted on the roof of the buggy. Get your backside in here this minute. I'm taking you home. It's Mom, my home chap. Baht, who's gone rogue and hijacked the on board computer of my buggy. Her mother, Morris, says to Chip, Are you being serious? Well, excuse me, answers Chip Hubley. That's what the buggy said. I'm only trying to help. You certainly did that says Mom. I was worried half to death about Tracy. If you hadn't contacted me, I'd have called the police. Mom, I'm 24 years old and your just a chat bots. I scream at the buggy. You order me pizzas when I tell you to. You do not control my life. Do you hear the way she talks to me? Whales, Mom, Tearfully. She does that when we fight just because I care about her. You contacted Tracy's chatbots? Morris asks trip without asking her permission. Gotta go. Says Chip quickly. They're running an update on me this evening. See you later, alligator. There's a ping on. He's gone, but so is any kind of romantic atmosphere. Wow. Said Dr Havenstein, that was some date. What happened then? We agreed to meet up the next morning before work on Talk it over and we thought we'd come up with a really cool plan.