James and the Giant, uhm, Supercomputer

One day last May, my work computer achieved self-actualization. Like all technology, “he” is a tad bit egomaniacal. There’s the usual shut-downs for no apparent reason, and a shocking lack of humor that I’ve come to expect from anything with a plug (My toaster always over-explains a joke. Really annoying, but what can you do? I’m basically a captive audience each morning.). For the most part, though, it’s a very amusing computer with a touch of charm.

A few days ago, I noticed it seemed almost angry and a bit defensive. I knew it was in the midst of a rather “tenuous” relationship with my iPAQ, but the computer hadn’t mentioned it in days, so I assumed things were going well.

Anyway, on Friday, the computer declared that it had become distraught over not being a real boy and had figured out how to form a body. I took one look at the birth announcement and realized the world was in a lot of trouble.



I began to think that the world should be made aware of this growing threat. I called the DOD. A voice answered in a slow drawl, “Yes. This is James Spader. I am hot to people who have seen White Palace. Can I help you?”

I dropped my voice to teasing, flirting register, “I have an egomaniacal computer who may be poised to take over the world. Wanna make out over lunch?”

“I only do R-rated movies,” he replied factually.

“If it involves a table, I’m okay with that,” I grabbed a Kleenex to wipe the drool off my work phone. Eating at my desk causes enough problems without adding the embarrassment of a lust-based short-circuit.

Mr. Spader arrived a few hours later. He reviewed all my past communication (IT guys are HOT!) before announcing that the computer was, indeed, going to destroy all of southern California via slow-speed car chase. I said nothing. All I could think about was lunch and the promised R-rating.

Lunch rocked. It was so worth the abandonment of all my morals. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite keep to an R-rating, so editing will probably have to remove the good stuff for wide release. I’ll bootleg you a copy of the Director’s Cut once I can bear to stop the continuous playback for a few minutes.

After lunch, we hypothesized possible locations of attack. Now post-afterglow, I slapped my forehead! “Wait! The computer is at my work! All we need to do is unplug it!”

We both felt a little sheepish at missing the obvious. (I think James was just stalling because I am an Idaho sex star.) We returned to work and unplugged the computer. Then we shared one last moment in his super-awesome Lincoln Town car before admitting that we just weren’t that into each other once the danger had passed.