The robot was puzzling. It had unlocked Jill’s door and rolled its way in like those ancient roombas. It didn’t have any trouble with the rug under the kitchen table. It was strange, but Jill couldn’t quite get annoyed at her intruder. Just curious.
“I would ask if you were lost, but you would have checked before entering. So why are you here?”
“I am here for scheduled emotional repairs.” The robot said.
Great. A therabot.
“I didn’t make an appointment.” Jill said.
“The appointment was made after what the administrator termed “the incident” at the office party.”
“It’s Saturday.” Jill growled.
“Confirmed, this is Saturday, May 4, 2586.”
“So why am I supposed to work on my mental health, which, by the way, is fine, on my day off?”
“It was determined that this appointment would impact your work productivity the least.”
“The violation of my privacy being the trade-off.”
“I have not shared any of your private data with anyone.” Did the robot sound offended? “You mentioned the violation of your privacy. How does that make you feel?”
“How long are you going to be here?”