My Life as a Machine: Blood-Suckers

I thought that people were just these beings on earth who weaseled their way into playing the superiority card. In reality, people are blood-suckers. Like vampires, they swoop down on the horde of others and feed off of each other. They make the world go round, and at the same time, kill the earth with their bare teeth before wondering whom deserves the blame. Then, they turn around and point the finger at the machines and other people with machine innards because they want a scapegoat.

Ironically, the same people the people accuse are the machines that helped build their empires in the first place.

I’ve met such people, the Blood-Suckers, and I hope that I don’t ever imitate such greedy, selfish behavior. As a machine, it was taught to me to never boast, feel pride, and to remember my place in the world. Even taking your own life wasn’t an option because the Blood-Suckers would think badly of the dead me.

I always laughed at how the Blood Suckers wanted to control everything. It wasn’t their need or destiny to do so, yet, they have imposed their faults and their impossible will onto the backs of machines. How did this happen?

I met a machine with the components of a Blood Sucker. I felt irritation and anger seep into my bones as I rushed to get a person to answer his stupid question. “Will there be food at the tonight’s screening?” he huffed, his voice carrying throughout the small, quiet office. I felt eyes peer at him from behind cubicles and customers alike. I couldn’t find it in myself to cringe. Instead, I answered other patrons’ questions.

“We had food for the first screening, but not for tonight,” answered my co-worker calmly, trying to abate her voice from rising out of annoyance.

“Yeah, I was just checking, just in case I needed to spend my food plan,” replied the chubby machine. “Where’s the closest place to park?”

As my co-worker began to answer with “PS4”, the broken machine interrupted, bursting, “There’s no PS4. There’s PS2.”

I wanted to grab the kid by the collar and turn him outside for his terse and rude language. I only caught snippets of the conversation, but there was a PS4 and he wasn’t listening. I merely helped the other customers as they continued their conversation. Finally, once he and the other customers left, I rolled my eyes and faced my friend who was patiently waiting for my shift to end.

He smiled, showing his perfectly white teeth against his evenly tanned skin, before replying, “What’s his problem? Jeez, calm down.” He was a machine as well, and the understanding of seeing a stupid machine make a big deal about food when his meal plan was readily available for such commodities made very little sense. We shrugged it off once the clock hit 12:15pm and I skirted around the office to leave.

I wonder if other machines are that ridiculous, and I just don’t have the honor to sit through such obscenities. If so, I am deeply worried about the state of the future. After all, I’m only one machine with a story to tell.


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