So I wrote you. I summoned up the nerve and I totally wrote you. Infact, I wrote the hell outta you.

But you turned out to be a cyborg, and now I had awoke you and angered you.

At first you used your human disguise to trick me. you hid in the skin of what I can only assume was a smart and cute girl who probably at one point in her life was a barista or amateur poet. You were smart you kept the home knit skullcap in rainbow that attracted me to ‘her’ in the first. I’ll never again underestimate the power of AI and the learning computer it powered.

You wrote back: you wrote me a straightforward note. This should have been a clue; it was too sterile and cold. I would have been more properly fished in if you had injected some humor, some wit, or a quick snippet about your cat ‘harvey’. But you being a cold soulless machine had made your first mistake, a mistake that would end up costing you your prize.

I followed your trail. I read your email. I smiled that smile that only a little taste of hope can bring, I hope she has a cute smile, I hope she likes sushi, I hope I hope.

Then we met for coffee. I was early as I am a gentleman, then I saw you. You walked in and I knew I was right. Your walk was mechanical your eyes scanned the room for me like a predator not a cute independent woman with a volkswagen or an old cadillac.

I stood I raised my shotgun and fired. I emptied my weapon with no thought of civilian casualties for if I didn’t take you down right here and right now you would most likely destroy us all later anyway.

You layed there twitching, servo motors misfiring hydraulic oil and synthetic blood leaking from my deadeye aim. I spoke to you softly. “we coulda been great baby.” “too bad you were consumed by the evil robot overlords.”

I laid my bunch of carnations at your feet, which were now next to your head, and walked off.

Maybe match.com would serve me better.