Breakfast with Glenn and Steve - Natural One

Young’s Restaurant was busy for a Tuesday morning.  After a short wait we were seated and ordered coffee.  I was looking forward to a short stack of blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon.

While we waited for the waitress to return with coffee, Steve asked, “Do you think robots walk freely among us?”

“Are you talking about those Mitt Romney stories?” Glenn asked.

“Well, yes I have read a few articles about Romney’s ‘robot problem’,” Steve said, his voice low as he scanned the patrons in nearby booths.

“A robot would sing better than that,” I offered.

“Maybe not,” Glenn noted.  “Human failings – clumsiness, a tin ear, verbal tics – would only help make the robot seem more human, not the other way around.”

“The dog story does show a lack of empathy, you know, like in ‘Blade Runner’ when the replicant doesn’t have any feelings for the tortoise that’s dying in the heat of the sun,” I said.

“Tell me all the good things about your mother,” Glenn added with a barely audible chuckle.

The waitress returned with coffee and took our orders.  Glenn ordered a hash omelet that was on special.  Steve opted for eggs over easy with the turkey sausage and whole wheat toast.

“Look, this is serious,” Steve said.  “Have robots ever turned out to be a good thing?”

“Rosie the Robot on ‘The Jetsons’ was cool, I think.  I mean, she did sort of freak out when her boyfriend robot was deactivated but not in ‘phased plasma rifle in the 40 watt range’ kind of way.”

“That’s a cartoon,” Steve said, still sweeping the room, “It doesn’t count.”

“I fail to see the difference,” I said.  “Both ‘The Jetsons’ and ‘Terminator’ are works of fiction.  Oh, I just remembered.  There was a short-lived TV series with a hot babe robot detective.”

“I remember that,” Glenn said.  “What was it called?”

“I can’t remember either.  I think married men train their brains not to remember those details,” I said.  They can only get you in trouble later.  So, you actually know her name?”

“There’s the robot daughter on ‘Small Wonder’, Twiki on ‘Buck Rogers’,” Glenn said.  “KITT on ‘Knight Rider’.”

“Data on ‘Star Trek: Next Generation’!” I said.

“Of course,” Glenn said. “I think we can discount anything he did while under the influence of the Borg.”

“Do Steve Austin and Jaime Sommers count?  They’re at least part robot and they were good,” I said.

“Cyborgs,” said Steve in a steely half whisper.  “They are not robots.”

“If robots had, um, infiltrated Young’s Restaurant, wouldn’t they be able to hear even a whisper with their super robot hearing?” Glenn asked Steve.

Steve locked eyes with Glenn.  “They’re here?” he asked. 

Steve again scanned the room, his eyes eventually resting on a booth with a single patron.  The man wore a dark blue sweater vest over a pink button-down shirt without a tie.  He wore dark plastic framed glasses with rectangular lenses.  His hair was cut short and neatly combed.  “It’s him, isn’t it?” Steve asked.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Glenn said. 

I watched this button-down shirt without a tie guy for a moment.  “Maybe we’re evolving into robots.  How many years before babies are fed some nano-immuno-wellness protein smoothie that guarantees a healthy above average height lifespan of 120 years?  What’s the collateral damage in that scenario?”

“Any bifurcated society – you’ve got to assume not all parents will be able to afford the protein smoothie – of haves and have nots,” Glenn began.

“Haves and soon to haves,” I interrupted.

Glenn continued, “Of haves and have nots must inevitably descend into a dystopia of crime, overburdened prisons, radicalized youth, urban violence, civil war, global terror, mercenary armies and unpredictable market conditions leading to underperforming economies and pirates.”

“And pirates?” I asked.

“And pirates,” Glenn confirmed.

“Sounds like now,” I said.

“History repeats the old conceits, the glib replies, the same defeats,” said Glenn.

“Elvis Costello reference,” I said.  “Well played, sir.  Well played.”

Glenn nodded and sipped some coffee.  Steve’s eyes still had not left button-down shirt without a tie guy.  “What,” Steve asked, “does this have to do with robots?”  

I thought about it for a moment.  Glenn beat me to the punch.

“Nothing,” Glenn said.

“Look,” Steve said.  “Maybe everything you’re talking about will happen but when?  Twenty years from now?  Fifty years?  The robot thing is happening here and now.  Check your priorities.  Geez.”

“Robot thing?” I asked.

“What have we been talking about for the last five minutes?” Steve asked. “Robots.  Living Freely.  Among us.”

The waitress arrived with our food.  Steve’s attention turned for the moment to his eggs over easy.  Coffee cups were refilled.  I poured a swirl of syrup on my pancakes. 

“You know, I’ve got to say that a robot as good as hypothetical robot guy there is a good twenty years off.  More likely fifty,” said Glenn.

“Thank you,” said Steve.  “That’s all I wanted to know.”

We ate in silence for nearly a minute.

Steve considered button-down shirt with no tie guy.  “Do you think robot in the future would build a time machine and travel back in time to our present day?”

“To Young’s Restaurant?” I asked.

“For the hash omelet special?” Glenn asked.

“Don’t be crazy,” Steve said, “robots don’t eat.”

Unable to stop myself, I glanced over at button-down shirt with no tie guy.  He was eating.

Would a robot do that? 

It shouldn’t have felt reassuring but for whatever reason I felt reassured.

Not a robot.

Not a vampire, either, come to think of it.