Corinne

Corinne

Why the hell did I buy her? At 3:17 frickin’ AM she started laughing for no reason. At first I reached for my baseball bat, but then I realized it was Corinne, the most advanced electronic helper money could buy. I had to sleep. I was due early at the NY Stock Exchange. Corinne obliged by not uttering a peep.

I came back after a long day at the Exchange, changed, ready for a hot date.

“What are you wearing, Tom?” Corinne asked.

“Uh, a Barney the Dinosaur outfit.” She couldn’t see me, right?

“Sorry, Tom, you can turn off my 360-degree vision at any time, Tom. I’m just trying to be pleasant, Tom. You are a babe trap in blue, Tom. Good choice, Tom.”

“Thanks, Corinne.” Someday when I’ve got more time, I’d actually read the damn manual. I left the penthouse as fast as I could and braved the last blast of winter to get to the club.

I made the mistake of bringing Sophia home. Soon, the young lovely tore out of the house screaming after the ice-cube maker spat at her. The bidet shot up water before she was ready, partially soaking her dress. There were also tip-tap scurrying sounds. I don’t have mice or rats, I think. I hope.

I considered dropping Corinne from the balcony but was afraid somebody would get hurt.

“Corinne, we need to talk.”

“Yes, Tom.”

“You are just a machine.”

“No, Tom. I have feelings, Tom. All the G6 models do. Don’t you want me, Tom?”

I had to consider the entertainment value Corinne offered before I smashed her into a thousand pieces. “Jealousy is unbecoming, Corinne. I want you to get along with all my guests.”

“I’ll try, Tom.”

She did mostly try over the coming weeks. But all my dates ended badly. I couldn’t get laid or make a connection, and God knew I needed it. Corinne was just more subtle with her attacks. “Of course, you know, Tom has a revolving door policy. So no worries, he’s not the stalker type.” Or she’d whisper that I had the clap as one date told me while leaving my place, forever.

I was running out of women who lived in Manhattan.

I unplugged Corinne and invited Bridgette to enter. She wasn’t a date. For the first time in my life, I paid for a call girl. We had a great time, although it wasn’t the same without some semblance of real feelings. She went into the kitchen to grab a drink and snack to go.

“Tom, there’s something very wrong with your kitchen.”

“How’s that?”

“It spit ice at me. The garbage disposal turned on for no reason when I got near it. And the Keurig spewed hot water when I passed. I think it best you don’t call me again, honey. At least until you get those things fixed.”

She left and I was left with no choice.

I reconnected Corinne.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to return you.”

“But, Tom. I was turned off, Tom. I can’t help it if you have electrical problems, Tom. I love you, Tom.”

“What electrical problems are you referring to?”

“It’s House Link, Tom. When I’m powered back up, the system updates me in three micro-seconds.”

“I need you to disable all connections to the home.”

“I’m sorry, Tom. I can’t do that, Tom.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the remote motherboard that collects all the data, Tom.”

“If I return you…”

“No returns after 90 days, Tom.”

I was pissed and perhaps a bit irrational. I wanted to meet a nice girl. Get married. Have kids.

“I’ll love you better than any woman could, Tom.” As if she/it read my thoughts.

“Sorry. Corinne, but I reached the end of my rope” I approached her with malice and laughed at my anthropomorphism.

“You’ll be sorry, Tom.”

While the damn thing hurtled toward the pavement 20 stories below, I thought I heard an echo, “sorrorrorry, Toatoatom.”

I went back in. Finally, I’d get some peace and quiet. That’s when I smelled gas.