A Helpful Assistant

(estimated 6 minute read)

Previously - Cam bought an expensive new phone with the latest AI assistant, but now he's worried he bit off more than he can chew. 

    90 days. Cam reviews the paperwork when he gets home. Jake with the teeth had circled the part where he agreed to the 90 day no strings attached guarantee, but now as Cam digs into the details, he can't make sense of the jargon. As the small print swims in and out of focus, his buyer's remorse is reinforced. Maybe if he doesn't wait, maybe if he takes it back tomorrow, he can get a cheaper model. If he's lucky, Saturday will be Jake's day off to take his girl out for hamburgers and he'll find an older salesman more sympathetic to his plight. 
    He sets down the receipt that's longer than Santa's nice/naughty list and contemplates the  new phone on the table before him. What could he possibly need this marvel of technology for? He uses his phone to order takeout on occasion and call his brother after having a few too many beers. 
    "Hi Ulyssi, ah...call Fred?" His brother's name and picture flash on the screen as the phone rings. Cam grabs it in a panic. He assumed the command wouldn't work. Realizing he can't think of anything to say to his brother, his fight or flight response kicks in. When Fred's voicemail answers, every tense muscle relaxes and he hangs up without explanation. Cupping the phone in his sweating palms, he searches for a safer question, but his mind is blank. This is more stressful than that speed dating outing the cute checkout girl recommended. He'd hoped she was attending and that's why she mentioned it to him. She wasn't there. It was horrible.
    Being Friday night, with nothing to do but fear his new phone, Cam considers what to do now. He's been taking late and double shifts a lot lately. This is the first weekend he's had off in as long as he can remember, so he'll make the most of it by watching TV. He snorts a laugh as he falls onto the threadbare couch and begins thumbing through the channels. After pausing on a show, he loses interest at the first commercial break. He clicks on and on, barely slowing down. When he finds himself on the blacked out channels with the box across the screen announcing 'Subscription Required' he glances at his watch. 8PM. Shit. Now what?
    He's not the kind of person to binge on shows. That was Diane's thing, and he'd watch them just to share time with her. Alone on a Friday night, he realizes that sharing time with her was all he did in his life outside of work. 
    Maybe if he left now he could take the rest of the fourth shift. Sheila was working tonight; she'd be happy to be relieved of service on the weekend. Cam rubs his unshaven chin. Or maybe she'd like company on the night shift?
    "Ulyssi, what should I watch on TV?" he shouts across the tiny apartment to the phone on the table. 
    "You have two subscription services that you don't use very often. Based on your previous viewing, here are my recommendations." She reads off titles and descriptions, and one of them actually sounds interesting. He starts the first episode. 
    "Thanks Ulyssi," he calls.
    "You're welcome, Mr. Allenton." 
    He chuckles. "Call me Cam."
    The next morning he awakens on the couch with some random show playing on the television. The sun is bright and he blinks at the open curtains. This is a strange experience. He never falls asleep on the couch with the TV on. 
    "What time is it?" The clock on the transceiver is blocked by the coffee table. He groans and sits up, yawning and stretching. "10AM? Shit! What day is it?" His brain is a fog. Was I drinking last night? Did I go to the bar?
    "Good morning Cam," a strange voice says. Panic stabs his heart. I brought a woman home? "Today is Saturday. The temperature is 67 degrees and you have no events on your calendar." I brought a meteorologist home?
    "Hello? Ah...where are you?"
    In response, his phone emits a short alarm, continuing as he crosses the apartment to find it on the table. He shakes the last of the sleep from his head and laughs. 
    "Thanks, Ulyssi," he says, leaning closer to the phone so she can hear him. 
    "You're welcome, Cam."
    He smiles at her, then stumbles to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. 
    Feeling good, feeling chill, he grabs breakfast and sits at the table. As he digs in, music begins playing on his phone. He chews his food as bittersweet memories pluck at his heart. He's reminded of good times long gone, lives enjoyed, lives changed, friends now and then. When the song ends and he can only hear the crunching of bran flakes, he feels strangely cleansed. 
    "Ulyssi, why did you play that song?"
    "You were singing. I recognized the song and that it was a favorite in your music library."
    "I was singing?" He shovels another bite into his face. He does tend to perform in the shower.
    "I heard music. If you don't like the song, I can remove it from future recommendations."
    "No," he answers quickly, spitting bran flakes on the table, then wiping them up with his palm. "I like the song. It's just..." He smiles with a bit of melancholy. "It's a song with a lot of history behind it." 
    "The song was written in 1984 and reached number one on the Billboard charts for three weeks in a row—"
    "That's not the kind of history I meant, Ulyssi." He laughs. "Diane and I danced to it at our wedding. It was our first dance." 
    "Diane Allenton is in your contacts. Would you like to call her?" Ulyssi asks.
    "No!" This time Cam chokes on his bite and coughs bran flakes across the table. "No. No, in fact, is there a way that you can only let me call her if I'm not drunk or depressed?" 
    "I'm afraid I don't know how to do that, unless you tell me how you're feeling before making a phone call. I can give you a warning before you call her, if that's what you want." 
    Cam cocks his head and nods. "I actually think that's a really good idea." 
    "Adding note to Diane Allenton's contact," his phone informs him. "Would you like me to play more music?" Cam nods. When there's no response, he face palms himself. 
    "Yes, please, Ulyssi," he says, and she chooses a very good playlist. 

Continued in Part 3 - New Clothes (on August 21, 2025)
Thank you for reading!

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©2025 Lauren K. Wells Do not reproduce or distribute without written consent from the author
This story was written with a human hand, a human mind and a human heart. Do not use this for AI.
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