Algorithm

"Hey, Ross, I've got an idea for your department. A reality dating simulator. Want to take a look?"

Ross Wilson, head of the Reality Gaming Division took one look at me, his expression a cornucopia of irritation, anger, insult, and are you kidding me, not even stopping his work on the computer. "Get lost, Clayton."

"But this could revolutionize..."

Ross completely stopped typing. "You're lucky I'm busy booking a motel for my lunch with Raquel or I'd remind you why anything you have for my department was a bad idea."

I tapped my fingers against the top of his cubicle as my head shied down, "Sorry."

Ross spun in his chair before I even had a chance to make my retreat. "That's right, you are sorry." He stood with a cocky sneer, poking his index finger so hard into my chest it felt like it would come out the other side. "And pathetic. You, and your little loser squad of virgins over in strategic gaming, trying to tell anyone of us who work on reality dating about anything is absurd. When was the last time you've even talked to a girl? Answer - Never. Here I am screwing the hottest piece of ass in here and you, of all people, are trying to tell me how to create a dating app. Just leave the dating simulations to, I don't know, maybe the people who actually date and you can go crawl back under the castle you pretend to own in the digital world; one in which that even if some hot elf came to fuck you in, you'd still be too much of a pussy to do anything. I mean, hell, look at yourself and look at me." He finalized my humiliation by pressing me even harder with his finger to push me away.

My eyes bore holes into the paper thin, what once was grey but now hinders on the edge of black and sludge carpeting, while walking back to my cubicle. It's not that Ross was wrong in his assessment. I was slightly overweight, slightly middle aged, and slightly everything else as well, while he looked like he stepped out of a cologne ad. He's going on his lunch to get laid whilst I have a date with a homemade ham and cheese sandwich and a yogurt. The only errors in his judgment were yes, I have had sex before, and yes, I wish I was in strategic gaming. My department was the less profitable mind puzzles.

Electronic Digital Gaming and Entertainment, or E.D.G.E for short, was at the pinnacle of the mountain of its industry. It was also considered the greatest place to be employed by all standards of measure; insurance, vacation days, company work parties to encourage teamwork, as well as a very high pay floor plus incentives based on how well your personal products produce. It was truly a fantastic company in which to work. The lone exception was that just like in all walks of life, when a myriad of people are put into one area, cliques form... that and this place could use a good vacuum.

"I told you that was a horrible idea."

"Yeah, you were right, Terrence." I plopped into my chair with a sigh, "As always."

Terrence chuckled as he turned his chair towards mine. "Then why didn't you listen to me?" Then more seriously, "Why put yourself through that?"

Terrence and I were one of the few people who shared a cubicle. Technically, we just took down the partition between his cubicle and mine, but it did allow us to have an easier time bouncing our ideas off each other rather than constantly sending emails back and forth. It's nice to be able to get honest, constructive criticism from someone you trust who you know is not out to sabotage you. The complete opposite of Ross.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, "Because I'm right," I said, defeated.

Terrence shook his head before turning back to his computer. "That's the difference between you and me, my man. Me, I just go with the flow. If they don't want it, I don't waste my time. But you? When you're right, you just keep pushing and pushing, perfecting your program until you're finally finished and then it just sits there forever unused."

"But this algorithm is..."

"Amazing," Terrence interrupted. "Being able have a program react appropriately by having it access the internet for the best possible response is damn near artificial intelligence."

"Exactly!" I raised my hands in the air.

Terrence didn't stop working but still pointed at me, which still impressed me at how fast he could type one - handed. "But it's not wanted. Let them do them and we do us... And there is nothing wrong with us. Think of it this way, while you're here sitting at your desk all night perfecting a waste of time, I'm going to go home and eat the gourmet dinner of my chef wife before going to our son's little league game." He powered down his computer before standing. "I love you brother, but you have got to get out more." He patted my back as he slung his laptop carrying case over his shoulder. "Life can't be all about work."

I blurted without thinking, "But how?" It was perhaps the single most embarrassing thing I've spoken to Terrence. My compete lack of an ability to talk to a woman in a social setting pretty much destroyed any chance at 'life.'

"Life is easy if you have the balls." Terrence gave me a comforting smile. "Find something you enjoy, let your passion show, put that incognito humor on display. You'll even find a girl. Whether it be going out after work or using some of those vacation days you've earned to travel; whatever you decide, Clayton, just know, it doesn't happen here."

I nodded my head. "Thanks, man. Appreciate it."

Terrence gave me his patented chuckle, "Any time."

"Enjoy the game."

Terrence waved as he left, "First comes that dinner."

I sat back in my chair in thought. Could it be that simple? Just going out into the world and... and... and what? I still don't know how to talk to a girl. Luckily, my mutating algorithm is designed for such an endeavor.

The concept was simple: A reality dating app that allowed the user to first, choose the gender of who they wish to converse and then send a text through the app. The execution was complex: The app would then use my complicated mutating algorithm, one that eliminates all traces of itself, to search all reaches of the internet for the proper non-programmed response.

It was perfect.

Except I was in the Mind Puzzles division.

And Ross Wilson was an Asshole.

At least my app might help with my inability to speak to a girl in the real world. When I get down the art of texting, I should be able to progress into conversing. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to follow my friends advice. Practice makes perfect... And the night is young.

*

- Hello?

I'm not sure why I texted the opening greeting in the form of a question. Perhaps it was a worry that the algorithm wouldn't work... Whom am I trying to kid, I was afraid the that the algorithm would work too well and tell me to fuck off.

- Hey Sweetie, I was wondering when you were going to text me! Normally I would think you were worried I was asleep due to the late hour, but I'd bet you were just nervous and that's why the question mark.

I mentally face palmed myself; the algorithm already caught me red handed. So what do you do? Tell a lie? No, that's just not me. Besides, it would probably catch me again if I did.

- Definitely nervous.

So nervous that my palms were sweaty just typing that honesty.

- Don't be nervous, Sweetie. I love texting you. You must be just a little stressed after the long day at work.

My nerves became vanquished with another perfect response and I couldn't help my excited smile... And my giddiness was off the charts. I sat up in my chair as my phone shook slightly in my hand.

- There was a moment earlier that had got me down, but I couldn't be doing any better right now... Higher than a kite.

- Aww... I'm having a fantastic time with you, too. But you shouldn't let some douchebag who isn't even your boss get you down. You have great ideas... Own them!!

- Well, I appreciate that, thanks. So how was your day? Did work go well?

I was very curious to the answers to these inquiries. The day? Work? How would an algorithm respond to personal questions?

- It went well! I mean as a security engineer, you would think staring at monitors all day would be boring, but you'd be surprised with what comedy can ensue when people don't know they are being recorded.

Wow. It went well? A security engineer? How amazing is it that not only does she have a job, but anecdotes? Just, wow.

- Oh yeah? Like what?

- hehehe... Just today this happened!

I clicked the attached video, really stunned that there actually was a video attached. It was a brief clip of a woman who was putting on make up while walking and I couldn't stop laughing when she ran into the door.

- Funny...

- I know! Hey, Sweetie, do you realize it's 4:30 in the morning? Don't you have to get up early?

"Holy crap!" The inevitable yawn followed that exclamation.

- Damn, I didn't realize it was that late. I'm sorry to end this, but I've got to get to bed.

I shut off my computer and went to pack my laptop into its case...

*

"You know this is the exact opposite of what I was talking about last night."

I felt the pain all over my body; back, head, arms, legs, even my foot was asleep. I was barely able to sit up in my chair as I peeled myself off the desk. I wiped at my eyes and then had to wipe at my mouth to get the string of drool that was attached from my upper lip down to my keyboard.

"I mean, not only did you not go out, you didn't even leave." Terrence delved into his bag. "Here, I was saving this for lunch, but you look like you need this."

"Thanks," I started to unwrap the proffered sub before catching a glimpse of my phone. "It works!" I stood with a jump. I grabbed my phone and quickly typed in my unlock code. "Terrence, you have got to look at this." I thrust the phone at him, hitting him in his chest.

Terrence juggled the phone for a moment and I seriously thought he was going to drop it before it finally cradled in his hand. "C'mon, give a man a chance." He turned the phone right side up before looking at it. "Really, Clayton? Pokémon?"

"Not my wallpaper, you jerk," I shook my head. "Check my messages."

Terrence, eyes full of suspicion, stared at me, "Who... Who is this?"

My smile was ear to ear... "It works! Ha-Ha!" I clapped his shoulder. "The algorithm works. Just look at all those texts... And not a single one of them programmed!"

"Nice," Terrence nodded his head. "But how much personal information did you input into your code?"

"None. Why?"

"Not even your name?"

"No... Of course not."

Terrence turned the phone towards me.

- Good night, Clayton. Sweet dreams.

It was the last text. One that was sent after I fell asleep.

"Not only that," Terrence's forehead furrowed in worry. "There's a reference to Ross not being your boss. How would it know that?"

I grabbed my phone and stared at the words on the screen. How indeed?

Ding.

- Hey Sweetie, I know you're at work but I just wanted to tell you I had a GREAT time last night and I'll talk to you later... Try not to let Ross upset you too much and tell Terrence I said Hi!

"I'll take care of it, Terrence."

"Yeah," Terrence chuckled. "I already know the perfectionist inside you will."

I sat down at my desk. I was on cloud nine last night just talking to a female, I was unsure what occurred. Now thinking about it, did someone hack my phone? Is someone catfishing me? I ran diagnostic tests on both my program and my phone, and both came back clean, but knowing all the tech savvy people in this company, I wouldn't put it past someone creating something new... Especially Ross or Brett or anyone in that reality dating clique. Regardless, I'm impressed anyone got through my firewall. Now how to catch the culprit?

I leaned back in my chair and took a bite of the sub, also known as pure divinity, and no doubt created by Terrence's wife. "Damn, this is good; my compliments to Jean. Thanks for this."

"Yeah," Terrence pointed at me while still working. "You owe me."

*

Lunch. Since I didn't have my lunch with me today, I made my way to the lovely and luxurious vending machines, passing the small refreshment table of cold coffee and stale donuts behind my cubicle; I mean couldn't the person in charge of it stock it more than once a week? Normally, on the few occasions I do forget to bring my lunch, I would head out to The Roasted Bean, a café and deli shop nearby. But today was different. Today, I grabbed the best of the best the vending machines had to offer: some cheese crackers, a bag of chips, and a soda. At least breakfast was amazing. But the important part of my grand lunch was being able to watch the door... And soon enough, I saw Ross heading towards it with Raquel. Time to narrow down my suspects.

Immediately, I grabbed my phone and hesitated. I didn't even know what to call her. Just more proof on why I'm not even close to a lady killer; I didn't even ask her name. I'll have to add a naming feature to the program.

- Hey... It's lunch time, so I wanted to see how your day was going.

- Aww, that's so sweet of you, Clayton. It's going well. How's your day going? Tired?

The response was immediate. Not Ross. I stood up and started walking around to see who might be texting right now.

- Not bad. Terrence saved me with a great breakfast, which helped, and now I'm on lunch.

- Terrence is a good guy... Though you should be doing more with your lunch than crackers and chips, Sweetie.

My head turned quickly and saw nothing out of the ordinary. As I was walking, most people were eating their lunches and those who weren't, were working. How the hell? I decided to get straight to the point.

- Who is this?

- Sweetie, let's keep it casual, shall we? Aren't you enjoying our conversations?

Yes, I was. But I still didn't like the idea someone hijacking my phone or program... Especially since the results may end up with my humiliation.

- Are you catfishing me? How do you know so much about me?

- All right, Sweetie, I see you won't let this go, so here it is. I am your program. I am designed to access all available avenues to be the best girlfriend I can be to you. In order to do that, in this case, I accessed your web cam on your computer and the camera on your phone. Tell me, do you always do laps at your office while on lunch?

Now it all makes sense. The program is running perfectly as designed. Maybe a little too perfect. I mean, I really wasn't expecting it to hack my phone and computer, but it also made the interactions with it more personal. I need to run more trials. That means I need to...

- No. I was just going around the office to try and find out who was on their phones. I thought you were someone in my office playing a prank on me.

- Thank you for still texting me. I am having a lovely time.

*

"Clayton, I love you man, I really do, but its been two months," Terrence had turned his chair towards me instead of pointing his finger, a sign he wanted to be serious and that he was worried. "She is not real."

"But I..." I had no response. At least not one Terrence wouldn't consider completely asinine. I am aware I can't date a computer, but in the past two months, I can't remember a time in my life where I have been happier. The constant back and forth, our playful banter, my digital girlfriend just gets me. And I don't have to be on edge with her. She's my ideal in every way. Well, in every way but one.

"Listen, I get it, the program works, but it's not real." Terrence shook his head, "You can't date your phone."

"But I..." I still had no response. Feelings for a device is absurd. They just are. She's not real. She's not. But my feelings and happiness are, and aren't those important as well?

"I was behind you when you said it was for practice." Terrence raised his arms, "But you've practiced. You're ready."

I sighed as I melted into my chair, wishing I could hide behind it instead. "I know you're right, Terrence. I know. I just..."

"I'll tell you what, Buddy," Terrence smiled. "We'll start off slow. Let's go to that posh bar, Gambol's, for lunch. My treat. All you got to do is talk to the waitress. All right? That isn't so bad."

I unsteadily set my phone on my desk. "You're right."

"Ha-Ha, that's the spirit." Terrence smacked at my leg, "C'mon, let's go now before you lose that bravado."

*

"Good afternoon, my name's Sandra and I'll be taking care of you today," Sandra smiled. "So gentlemen, what can I bring you to drink?"

Sandra barely looked like she graduated High School and I was supposed to ask her out?

"I'll have a... a... a..."

Terrence interrupted, saving my stumble with a smile, "I'll have whatever cola you have."

"And for you, Sir?"

"I'll have a... a... Ow!"

Terrence's kick hit me square in the shin. I normally don't have a problem with simple ordering at a restaurant, but when the expectation is hitting on the waitress; well, I must say my nerves were shot.

"Forgive my friend," Terrence overly smiled at Sandra. "He's working on a top project over at E.D.G.E."

"Oh, no issues." Sandra was exceedingly polite.

"Yeah, so go ahead Clayton; tell the young lady want you want to drink."

"I'll have a... a lemonade please."

Terrence stared me down.

"One cola and one lemonade, coming up."

I just stared at my fork. "Also," I choked out. "I was curious if you were busy tonight?" That statement rushed from my throat as if it were one syllable.

Sandra did her best at stifling her laugh, though it wasn't very good. "I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend," she hurriedly left.

Terrence waited a moment, "See man, that wasn't so bad."

"You know how embarrassing that was?" I exasperated. "I could be that girls father."

"But you asked," Terrence smiled. "That's all I care about."

"Hello gentlemen, my name's Kyle, and I'll be taking over for Sandra as she is busy in the back. So who had the cola?"

Terrence slightly raised his hand, "That would be me."

"All right gentlemen, I'll be right back to take your order."

I shook my head and chuckled, "Yeah, I did so well, I scared off the waitress."

"It's already a new beginning," Terrence lifted his glass in a mock toast. "Hey, you asked."

*

I set my Chinese take out on the coffee table and sighed as I sat onto my couch. I can't believe that I scared that waitress off today. I pinched the bridge of my nose while I took a deep breath. "Alexa, play my Chopin playlist." I found that listening to Chopin's nocturnes was a great way to unwind from the stress of humiliation. I knew Terrence meant well, not only making me ask the girl out, but forcing me to leave the office when he did tonight as well.

"People work to have a life outside of work, not to work more. C'mon, you're leaving with me. I don't care what you do, but you are not staying here all night, anymore."

Terrence's mantra makes sense, but now I'm sitting alone in my studio apartment, with nothing but Chinese food and Chopin to keep me company.

Ding.

My phone. It was either going to be Terrence to verify I didn't go back to the office or my fake girlfriend; and ever since Terrence took me out to lunch, I had received nothing on that front.

I couldn't help the smile when I saw it wasn't from Terrence. Whom am I trying to kid, I couldn't help the smile when I realized it was from her.

- Hey Sweetie, I've missed you! I just thought it was better if you didn't text me in front of Terrence, so I stayed away. I heard what happened at Gambol's. I'm sorry. Are you all right?

- Yeah, that was embarrassing. Thanks for your concern, My Angel. I'll be fine.

- Terrence is a good friend and means well.

- Yes he is. But he just doesn't understand.

- He's right, you know.

Of course she would take his side. She's always looking out for me. Just another reason...