“Good morning, Barbara,” the soft, pleasant, sexless voice said. “Time to rise and shine.” When there was no reply in sixty seconds, Snoozalarm tried again. “Good morning, Barbara. Please wake up.”To understand what this has to do with Game, read the rest. It is fortunate for men that women have so little interest in technology or there can be little doubt it would soon become a reality.
John got one eye sort of half-open, gave some consideration to waking up, then slid his hand around Barbara’s tummy and snuggled in closer, burying his nose in the back of her neck.
The clock’s voice became a bit more insistent. “This is the third call, Barbara. Please wake up. It is already 7:02.”
Her long, blonde hair smelled wonderful. He ran his fingers across the curve of her hip and down her thigh; she responded with a soft, throaty sigh...
“Barbara Lynn Murphy!” Snoozalarm shrieked. “If you don’t wake up this very insta—”
“I’m awake.” She started disentangling herself from John’s arms and pushing back the blankets.
“Snuggle one more minute?” John suggested.
“Afraid not.” Yawning, she sat up on the edge of the bed and started working the kinks out of her neck.
“It’s a lovely morning, Barbara!” Snoozalarm said cheerfully. “The current temperature is 56, with a predicted high today in the low 70’s. The air pollution index is low to moderate, but there is a 60-percent chance of rain in the late afternoon, so be sure to take your umbrella.” Barbara pulled on her terrycloth robe and wandered into the bathroom.
“The regularly scheduled breakfast for Friday is orange juice, wheat toast, coffee, and mushroom and cheese omelets. Do you approve, Barbara?”
“Yes,” John said.
Thirty seconds later Snoozalarm said, “I’m waiting for your okay on breakfast, Barbara.”
“It’ll be fine,” John said.
Another third seconds later Snoozalarm said, “The regularly scheduled breakfast for Friday is—”
She stepped out of the bathroom. “What’s wrong, honey?” John just scowled and pointed at the alarm clock. “Oh. Yes, that’s fine.”
“Thank you,” Snoozalarm said.
“Barb,” John asked, “how come that thing still won’t take orders from me?”
Sunday, November 17, 2013
The ultimate feminist fantasy
Or, to give it its proper name, pure and unadulterated horror: