Nothing Personal

“I failed the personality test.”

Bob didn’t blink when he said it; he only stared down his friends, who leaned against barstools and held their refreshments as if the world were okay.

Corman and Lilith scowled at Bob. Lilith said, “Why are you sweating? And shaking? Bob, what’s the matter?”

“I told you. I failed.”

Corman patted Bob on his shoulders. “No you did not, friend. No need to panic. Those tests are easy.”

“Yeah,” reassured Lilith. “All you have to do is be yourself.”

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Here,” Lilith said, “take a seat. We’ll get you a drink, and why don’t you tell us all about it?”

Sammin and Tilly strolled into the bar holding hands. Lilith waved them down, and soon all five friends had drinks.

Lilith loved how Downtown Bar got its data stream from federal feeds, so it could calibrate the perfect drink for each individual, no matter the occasion. She sipped on her caramel milkshake while handing Sammin his rum from the bartender. Bob started sipping on his thick, chocolate milkshake, complete with umbrella straw.

“Milkshake, eh?” Sammin said. “What’s got you down today, Bob? Don’t deny it; I know the signs.”

Lilith half-whispered, half-yelled, “He thinks he ‘failed’ his personality test,” flailing her fingers in dramatic air-quotes over the word “failed”.

Tilly giggled. “Bob, you know that’s not something you can fail.”

“They’re gonna give me the nano treatment, I know they will.”

Lilith said, “Bob, I think you’re overreacting.”

“No, Lilith, I am clearly UNDER-REACTING!” Bob slapped his hand on the bar, causing the drinks to clatter but not spill.

Sammin leaned over and said, “Why are you scared of the nano treatment? I’ve heard it’s painless.” He sipped his rum.

“Easy for you to say, Sammy-boy. They’re not threatening to turn you into a robot.”

The whole bar went quiet for a moment.

Lilith said, “Shh, Bob. You know we’re not allowed to say the R-word.”

“I’m sorry that our technologically inclined overlords are sensitive in that way. How rude and derogatory of me.”

“Yeah it was!” Tilly said.

“Anyway, Bob, of course you have a personality. You were sarcastic just now. That’s personable.”

“No, no, you don’t get it. None of you do. I got my sarcasm from Corman, but it’s not actually part of my personality.”

Corman said, “You never did thank me for my generous gift. None of you have.” He sipped his Mexican Coke through a metal straw.

“I’m telling you guys, I don’t have a personality. I have nothing of creative value to give the world, so they’re gonna ‘bot me, stick me in a factory, and use me ’til I break.”

“Come on, man,” Sammin said. “Even if it were true, that’s not a bad life. You’d still have a job. You’d serve a purpose, and you’d still have time for sleep and entertainment and stuff. You’d still have a life.”

“A boring one, because I don’t have a personality.”

Lilith said, “If you didn’t have a personality, you wouldn’t be this worried about it.”

“Anxiety is not a personality trait, Lilith! At least not to our robo-brethren.”

“You really need to watch that language,” Corman said.

Tilly started to cry. “Bob’s scaring me. What’s the nano treatment? I thought the personality test is a good thing.”

Sammin shook Bob’s shoulders. “Robert, you butt! Look what you made Tilly do. This worry’s contagious! Tilly don’t know no better; she only turns twenty next week.”

“Listen, Tilly,” Lilith said. “No need to cry. They’ll tell you at your birthday orientation. That’s where they explain the test. You see, the personality test is to see what you can offer our society. The Benevolence instituted the test decades ago. It measures personality as well as creativity and aptitude. Sure, they want to see what kind of person you work well with, but it’s even more for them to see your uniqueness.”

Corman said, “The Benevolence respects humans, and they want what’s best for us. They want us to be unique. You know, I’m a painter.”

Sammin said, “I’m a guitarist.”

“Oh, oh, I’m a poet!” Tilly exclaimed.

“I write stories,” Lilith said. “The Benevolence won’t harm you because they need you. They need all of us. They can automate whatever they dang well please, but they can’t copy heart. They can’t copy art!”

Now Bob was sobbing. “That’s my problem! I don’t have art. I can’t write books or play instruments.”

Tilly asked, “But where does the nano treatment come in?”

Corman chuckled. “That’s just to help us. In your test, if you’re deemed to not have much creative insight or unique personality traits that can inspire unique insight, you’ll be assigned a ‘Menial’.”

“What’s that?” Tilly asked.

Lilith said, “That’s just what they call those jobs that anyone can do. Manual labor, mechanical repair, stuff like that. The nano treatment puts little nano bots into your body so the Benevolence can monitor, help, maximize, and economize your productivity.”

“That’s all Bob’s worked up about?”

Bob screamed, “Yes, that’s all! It’s the end of my life. It’s dehumanizing, I tell you.”

Sammin said, “Bob, you don’t know that they’re even giving you the treatment. Maybe you aced the test!”

Bob slumped and drank more of his milkshake.

Lilith said, “Oh, won’t you just cheer up already?”

“No.”

She smiled. “Let us help. We’ll brainstorm together. We’ll figure out your personality.”

“Yay!” Tilly screamed.

Corman rolled his eyes.

Sammin said, “Okay, Bob. What do you like to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Sammin smirked. “Try. You have to know. What kind of music do you like?”

“Whatever’s playing on the radio.”

“Okay,” Lilith said, “why do you like radio music?”

“It’s fun.”

“What makes it more fun than other music?”

“I don’t know. I only listen to it so I don’t feel left out. I like it because I’m supposed to like it.”

Lilith sighed. “Maybe you’re just not that into music. That’s okay. What books do you like?”

“I don’t read books. Only user manuals when I need to.”

Tilly said, “Oh, I know! What about movies or TV shows? I like Color Cataclysm Crazy Hour, because it’s funny, it points out weird things about psychology, it says things about the human condition, it has a subtle irony about the meaning of life and freedom and stuff. I’m in the middle of writing a fan-fiction piece that I hope catches the eye of the producers and maybe they’ll adapt it.”

“Oh yeah, Color Cataclysm Crazy Hour…I’ve seen that before. The clown makes me laugh.”

“You like clowns, Bob,” Lilith asked, on the edge of her seat, almost sliding off the bar stool.

“Not really. Just that one made me laugh, when Corman showed me the video clip.”

Sammin said, “Okay, how about this. What do you do when nobody’s around? What do you listen to, watch, read, do on your own, without anyone telling you that you should?”

Bob stayed silent, sipping the last of his milkshake.

“Where would you go if you could take a trip on your day off? The beach or the mountains? Or the rainforest? Would you live on a houseboat or an RV, or would you prefer a mansion? Give us something, Bob!”

Bob threw his glass on the ground, the glass shattering in splashes of shake remnants.

“I don’t know! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! When I have a day off, and all my friends are busy, I stay at home and do nothing. I barely even like my friends—no offense. I’m friends with random people I’ve crossed paths with over the years, but do I actually like any of you?”

Nobody responded.

“I don’t even dislike any of you! That’s the problem! Everything I do is a product of everyone else’s influence, and now the Benevolence are going to finish the process. They’re taking the only humanity I have left!”

Bob ran out of the bar, his screams fading with him.

The four friends sat in silence for awhile, Lilith eyeing the bottom of her glass. I wish I could do more to help Bob. She caught Corman’s face, and she scowled.

“What are you laughing about?”

Corman said, “You wanna know a secret?”

They all leaned in close to him.

“That job Bob has…it’s not a placeholder job awaiting his assignment. It is his assignment. Bob got the nano treatment months ago. They’re just working out the bugs. His test today was more for the bots than for him. Give it a couple days, and they’ll give Bob a software update, and watch. He’ll be back to normal.”

They all four burst out laughing. Corman raised his glass, and the rest of the bar did in response.

“To humanity! To creativity saving our skin! And to the Benevolence…needing us just as much as we need them!”

Everyone cheered and lifted the glasses to their lips, but before they drank, Lilith jumped on top of her barstool and lifted her glass even higher.

“And to Bob!”

A beat of silence…

“Bob,” she continued, “it’s nothing personal.”

They drank.