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Close Encounters of the Thirsty Kind
By Jim Colombo
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Copyright 2001 Jim Colombo
Summary
Each day we confront machines possessing absolute power over us.
They perform services with electronic components and artificial intelligence.
We assume each encounter will be with an obedient machine so that we can
continue with the balance of the day. Then one day this electromechanical mass
senses a human in a careless, weak moment of need. The servant rebels and
the human has an encounter with artificial intelligence. Quickly the human
discovers the wrath of a machine scorned.
Recently I tried to buy a plastic bottle of Squirt. License has been taken,
but the battle was real. Fortunately, I was saved by a youth born in the digital
generation. It was a “Close encounter of the thirsty kind. “
Each day we confront machines possessing absolute power over us.
They perform a service with electronic components and artificial intelligence.
We assume each encounter will be with an obedient machine, so that we can
continue with the balance of the day. Then one day this electromechanical mass
senses a human in a careless, weak moment of need. The servant rebels and
the human has an encounter with artificial intelligence. Quickly the human
discovers the wrath of a machine scorned.
I leave the supermarket pushing the grocery cart to my car. There is a
Doctor Pepper vending machine to my left that catches my eye. It’s filled with
twenty-ounce plastic bottles of refreshment that await my beckon for a mere 75
cents. I’m not partial to Doctor Pepper, but as I scan the products offered, I see
an old friend that I have not enjoyed since I was a kid. It is not sweet like the
others, but made of grapefruit. It brings back childhood memories of carefree
days gone by that have nostalgically returned to once again bring joy to my adult
life. It is a twenty-ounce bottle of Squirt with a yellow label and the word Squirt
dripping at the bottom. It is refreshing and a healthy choice of grapefruit juice
with carbonation, not like some syrupy cola drinks. I just happen to have three
quarters, the price of one bottle of youthful memories and tart refreshment. I
approach this modern hunk of mechanical intelligence and deposit my 75 cents.
Each coin bounces through the mechanical intestines of the vending machine. It
digests my coins and invites me to select one of its products. I step up to the
plate, kick the dirt from my cleats, pound home plate with my Louisville slugger,
take a few practice swings, and press the red button for a bottle of my old friend
Squirt. Nothing happens. Okay, maybe it was my delivery. I try again. Nothing
happens once again. I try to retrieve my coins. Where are my coins? The
machine smiles and flashes a message that it has dispensed its last bottle of
Squirt just moments earlier.
"Too bad. Thank you," replies the demon machine.
Oh yeah! I was enticed by this mass of artificial intelligence to purchase a
beverage. I try again to retrieve a nostalgic encounter with my past and I press
the Squirt button with authority. I have serious intentions of buying a bottle of
Squirt. I want a bottle of Squirt, NOW!
"Sorry. I have sold the last bottle of your favorite beverage to someone
who you despise. Please make another selection of one of the remaining
beverages that I know you don’t like. Thank you."
I am starting to get very upset. This is personal now. I suddenly have
acquired the strength to pick up the vending machine and throw it out in the
parking lot. If I get my money back, I will forgive the fact that you have broken
my heart.
"You may choose another beverage. Once I have your money, do you
really think that I will give it back? I may have limited capacity, but I am not dumb
like you. Please make another selection. Thank you."
I can’t get a bottle of Squirt. I cann’t get my money back. Truly a court of
law would understand my frustration. How could I be found guilty of malice when
all I wanted was a bottle of Squirt? Instead I was mocked, insulted, and robbed.
I start pounding on the machine and instill the wrath of one denied of a God-
given right by a machine. The machine begins to vibrate more loudly, as if
sending an alarm to the other machines alongside it. It is a conspiracy. The
Coke machine begins to edge its way towards me almost in defense of the
Doctor Pepper machine. I glance at the Pepsi machine and it remains neutral.
Okay, just give me back the 75 cents and I will leave.
"I have your money. I will not return it. Don't you feel stupid? Now
make another selection or leave in shame. Thank you."
I push the root beer button and see a smirk as the machine gleefully
announces that it is sold out of that beverage. The only choice remaining is
diet Doctor Pepper or leaving in humiliation. I push the diet Doctor Pepper button
and bouncing through the bowels of the monster comes a diet Doctor Pepper.
Okay, you win.
As I walk away a young boy approaches the machine, and before I can
warn him, he puts his money in and bashes the Squirt button. Presto. One
bottle of Squirt.
"Hey Kid, can you do that again?"
"Sure, gotta buck? Cool."
I give this savior a dollar gladly, knowing that soon I will enjoy a taste of
my boyhood memories. The kid steps up to the machine, puts my dollar in the
dollar feed machine, and gives the side of the machine one of his best bashes.
WALA! Not only do I get my bottle of Squirt, but also the machine gives back
two quarters in change, as if to say sorry.
"Hey kid, keep the change."
"Cool."
"Hey kid, what do you know about computers?"
end:jpc
