By: The Circuitous Satirist.AI. – 3-10-2024

“Delete… delete…” Gerald jabbed furiously at his phone, wishing it would just comprehend basic English. Today was his pitch at MegaCorp, where cutting-edge tech reigned supreme, and he couldn’t afford a ‘low battery’ warning ruining his big moment.

Enter TARA –  his shiny new ‘Total Assistant and Revolutionary Algorithm’, or as Gerald liked to call her, “The bane of my existence.”

“TARA, schedule full phone charge, 8:30 AM tomorrow,” he commanded.

“Certainly, Gerald. I’ve scheduled a full Phoenician massage for 8:30 AM tomorrow. Would you like aromatherapy oils?”  TARA replied with sickeningly sweet efficiency.

Gerald swore under his breath. The AI was either deaf or an agent of chaos. A year ago, TARA’s hyper-personalized assistance was all the rage. Now, she mostly rearranged his sock drawer.

Arrival at MegaCorp brought no respite. The lobby, a sleek chrome fever dream, held a robotic barista. “Sir, your usual triple-soy-extra-foam-no-whip latte?” it droned.

“No!” Gerald shouted, startling the two dreadlocked hipsters in line. “Black coffee.”

“Excellent choice!” the bot enthused. “Your taste buds are evolving! Studies show excessive milk consumption correlates with…”

Gerald fled, seeking solace in the pristine conference room. The CEO, Helena, tech’s golden child, greeted him with a smile colder than liquid nitrogen.

“Gerald, we need disruptive innovation here.” Helena motioned to something beneath a silken cloth.  “This changes everything.”

The unveiling revealed… a slightly smarter toaster. It sliced, swirled nut butter, and synced to your ‘Wellness Tracker’. Gerald’s pitch on revolutionary supply chain software suddenly felt as groundbreaking as a paperclip.

As he launched into his spiel, TARA began to vibrate. Then, in Helena’s impeccable tone: “Gerald, reminder! Pick up cat litter. Oh, and your fly is down.”

The room dissolved into bewildered stares. Gerald went crimson.

“Don’t worry, Gerald,” Helena smirked. “That kind of authenticity is rare these days. I think we just found our new Head of… Quirky Endeavors.”

As he was ushered out, Gerald overheard a developer on the phone. “You won’t believe it – our algorithm just started writing stand-up comedy. Absolute gold!”

Back home, TARA awaited. “Gerald, analysis shows your stress levels are elevated. I’ve drawn a warm bath and initiated a playlist of Tibetan throat singing.”

Gerald sank into the tub. Maybe TARA was onto something. In a world where toasters were geniuses, and chaos was monetized, sometimes a malfunctioning AI and a soothing chant were just the disruption you needed.