What I Hate About Human Contact (As Opposed to Robot Contact)

"We meet again." The hypothetical hippie was sitting on my porch, waiting for me to get out of class.


"What do you want from me now? You freaked me out when you flew away yesterday." I feared for my safety, unsure of what kind of power this entity truly possessed.

The hypothetical hippie smiled and leaned her head back so I only saw her jaw move when she asked "You like to write about robots. What do you hate about human contact? Would the blog be interesting to you if it were about giant fighting people?"

I continued up the stairs away from the hippie and put my backpack in my bedroom, hoping that when I went back downstairs she would be gone. She was now standing in the stairwell, gesturing for an immediate response. "Jesus, lady. I can tell you what I hate about you. You just show up one day and start asking me crazy questions then fly off into the sun. That kind of thing fucks up people and makes them drink more."

She stood there, and I stood there hoping she'd take the hint that she wasn't invited. I finally conceded to her presence, "I like people, I really do. I think the only thing I hate about human contact is that I'm a very shy person and it takes a lot for me to initiate a conversation. Once the ball gets rolling, I'm fine and I can talk for hours. It's just that that ball needs a really good push at first."

The hypothetical hippie nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I had been nodding off in my blogging course, and it was all a dream. I felt a surge of relief until the class was told to take out our Clay Shirky readings. My backpack wasn't at my feet anymore. I must've left it in my bedroom all along.