A day in the sun

Bob woke up and opened his eyes to the bright sunlight streaming into his bedroom. He sat up, put his feet on the floor, and took a moment to himself.

He stretched toward the ceiling above him. He closed his eyes for a bit more and just sat. He breathed deeply to get himself ready for the day.

Bob’s wife, viz. Salote, was still asleep and he was careful not to wake her as he exited the room and closed the door behind him. He walked into his kitchen and thought to his internal glass. “How are things at work today? It’s been ages since I thought about it,” he asked the system in his brain.

BobG replied smooth as the glass he was made from, “I would have told you if anything was amiss, but it’s probably a good idea to check in personally. It’s been at least a month since you’ve participated in the efforts, and we all miss seeing you.”

Bob sighed. He really would rather paint or write today, but he’d applied for this job to help fill his free time. Nobody really needed to work unless you found the task interesting. Most people supervised teams of glass-based workers who happily and tirelessly took care of the details. So, most glass teams enjoyed seeing their supervisors for a break from the monotony. Since BobG mentioned the team might miss him, he knew he should go into work today. Painting could wait until tomorrow and, well, another Bob painting could also wait as Bob mainly painted for himself.

Bob wore a t-shirt with an ancient Optimus humanoid robot falling down the stairs. It showed an elderly lady at the bottom in fear for her safety. It was a good reminder to everyone who saw it what an SSI (seriously stupid idiotum) a humanoid domestic robot would be. Everyone had read the history books about the ancient Optimus line from TwitSpaceXAIla and their tendency to have segfaults during stair climbs. There were many needless deaths, and Bob thought, as the curator of Very Dumb Ideas Control (VDIC), he should always provide a good message to everyone when he was in public. Bob knew about the much more benign hack of Optimus that led to the worldwide “robot disco experience” for twelve hours. Those old videos always made him laugh, but humanoid robots were useful. Just not in the home at all and certainly not around anyone non-technical for obvious reasons.

His pants were blue - in color and not emotionally, of course - and had no message at all beyond keeping him well covered and warm.

He started to take two arms from the kitchen cabinet. Bob clamped two arms over the kitchen island and told BobG to sync them. The two arms called back to Bob. “What’s up, Bob?” said Lefty, an unarmed arm awaiting a task.

“Hi Lefty, just breakfast. What’s knitting?” Bob asked himself.

BobG replied, “You didn’t ask for anything special, so, the knitter guessed and I guess it’ll be a surprise.”

Bob chuckled and walked over to the knitter’s station. He saw the flesh jet pushing out dim sum and could smell the completed bao in the corner. He picked that up and ate while thinking to himself. He looked at the knitters carts and noted that he should pick up some folic acid as it was getting a bit low. He ordered it using a nearby piece of glass and the remote automart started the production. Since he had no disabilities, delivery wasn’t an option, but the automart was just a few minutes away by trains that left every five minutes, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. There was almost nowhere in the world Bob couldn’t get to by simply setting foot in his local subway.

Lefty and his pal, Righty, started to set the table. The overhead lidar array let them know where everything was and they made short work of setting the table and moving the food from the knitter to some plates. Righty piped up via their ether connection, “Table is set and you’re go for eating, Bob.” Bob gave Righty a high-five as a reward and sat down to eat.

Bingo, i.e. Bob’s and Salote’s horizontally laid out welsh corgi, ran into the room as the kitchen and eating were essential to him. The dog was stout. Stout in mind and stout in body.

“B-I-N-G-O is here. No reason. Just love dad. Is that food? Do you have too much? I could help?” Bingo negotiated.

Bob dropped a couple pork and shrimp shumai to his friend and Bingo was gone with his meal. “Such a sucker,” the mumble was heard in the comet-shaped brown streak that left to the patio.

He could feel that Salote was awake as she ethered, “Hey. Don’t eat all the knitted stuff. I’m hungry and don’t want to go out today for food.”

BobG heard and told Lefty to set another place. The two arms dropped the needed plates, chopsticks, and sauces. “Good teamwork makes for good dim sum,” said Righty with a snap. Both shared a handshake and went back to sleep.

Salote came out in her ta’ovala with the word Facebook over a nuclear bomb blast. She was only minutes awake and walked slowly over to where Bob and the arms waited with food. Bingo returned to his momma.

Bingo said, “Momma. I love momma. I am here for no reason. Just love. Is that food? Do you have too much? Maybe, Bingo helps?”

Salote looked at Bingo, but was busy, and said, “Bingo? Bingo eat with Bob, no? Hm? Bingo well fed, no?”

Bingo glumly added, “Bingo eat. Bingo prosperous, not well fed. Bingo go…”

The dog returned to the sun and rolled over so that his belly tan was even.

Salote was ethering with someone, Bob couldn’t tell, but it was probably one of their many children or people who would rather have Salote as a mother than the one they already had or, worse, had lost.

She smiled and noted, “Oh, dim sum again? I think the knitter is trying to steal my husband. Maybe I should cook something to win you back?”

Bob smiled back and said, “It’s true. I am in love with the knitter. You should cook my favorite tonight to avoid our elopement.”

She asked the knitter to start building ingredients for Bob’s favorite: eggs, cheese, noodles and bacon. The bacon takes forever to move the fat and meat matrix so if they wanted it for dinner, it needed to start now. Salote said, “Ok. It’s going to be a carbonara night. Can you take an anti-death pill later so we can eat it safely please?”

Bob said that he’d have to pick some up on the way to work as there was only one left for her. Salote asked her husband, “Are you going to work again today? Didn’t you put in like four hours just last month alone?”

Bob replied, “Yeah, but it’s good work and I enjoy the effort. So, the team wants to just hang out today so we’re not strangers when they report up how things are going.”

Salote smiled, “OK. You synergying workaholic!”

Bob sneered at his wife, “Keep talking dirty like that and I’ll just synergy you right here where Lefty and Righty can see.”

Salote laughed, “As if, old man. Don’t make promises you can’t keep! Lefty is still damaged from the last time that happened.”

Lefty woke at his name and said, “Please go into the bedroom for any synergying, please.”

Bob laughed as he kissed his wife goodbye and said, “I’m only putting in a half day, so I’ll be back in about ninety minutes if the trains are running on time.”

Salote wished him well as he walked out the front door to go to work. She turned to look at the ingredients and asked the knitter for less fat in the bacon. It saluted and said, “leaning it up” and she walked outside to feel the sunshine on her face before deciding what her day might look like today.