His Robot Girlfriend – Chapter 10 Excerpt

The first quarter of the school year flew by. Despite the fact that classes were larger than ever, the children were more obnoxious than ever, parents were more clueless than ever, and the administrators were more useless than ever, Mike thought that things were going pretty well. It was he mused, probably because he was one hell of a teacher. He felt more organized and prepared than he had in years and he certainly had more energy. He walked to and from school almost every day. Three days a week he went to the gym afterwards too. Each day at lunchtime, the other teachers at his table would watch him as he unpacked the carefully crafted meal that Patience had sent with him.

The students and teachers at school saw Patience only occasionally. This was not because Mike was ashamed of her, but because he remained as he had been before her arrival, essentially a homebody. They went out to dinner once a week, and Patience would provide pleasant conversation, though she didn’t eat. Most nights though, they stayed home. She fixed him a dinner more than equal to those they found at restaurants and then they usually watched a movie on vueTee. Increasingly this was followed by some sexual activity, and Patience confirmed Mike’s opinion that his libido was on the increase, though he declined her offer to graph it for him.

Mike carefully watched the unfolding election. Though he was loath to throw away his vote by choosing the Greens, in the end there was just no way he could live with himself voting for either Barlow or Wakovia. Mendoza was the right person for the job. So he resigned himself to the fact that his candidate was going to lose and put a bright green Mendoza/McPhee ’32 bumper sticker on the back of his Chevy. Then fate stepped in. In early October, a series of announcements by Ford, Gizmo, Intel, and other major manufacturers pushed the market up past 20,000 for the first time. The government’s monthly economic indicators were even better than expected and it shot up even more. Then at the end of October, President Busby announced that the Chinese had brokered a deal in which the Russians would pull out of Antarctica. The war was over and the United States and her allies had won! The first troops began arriving home November second, just two days before the election.

Patience produced a dinner of barbeque ribs and chicken, potato salad and coleslaw, and apple cobbler on election night. Harriet and Jack arrived early and they all gathered around the vueTee in the living room to watch the returns. The twenty-ninth amendment provided a national set time for elections. The polls were open from 7AM to midnight, Eastern Standard Time. Of course ninety five percent of the voters, Mike included, had voted during the previous two weeks on the internet. By law, the news outlets were not allowed to announce winners until after the polls closed. Even so, when four o’clock hit, the states on the vueTee screen began filling in with color at a remarkable pace.

Mendoza reached the required electoral votes well before the small party watching in Springdale, California had finished their meal. The Republicans took the new south—Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, Florida, Cuba, and the Virgin Islands. For a while it looked as though the only state to go blue would be Puerto Rico, but then after the winner had already been declared, California, Washington, Oregon, Hawaii and Pacifica were filled in with blue. Mike’s disgust that his vote had in fact not counted, since Wakovia had won California was ameliorated by the fact that his candidate had won the election. Evelyn Mendoza would become only the second female President of the United States, having won the remaining forty three states and a whopping 407 electoral votes.

It was late that evening, after Harriet and Jack had gone home, after the talking heads on the screen had finished interviewing the winners and losers, campaign workers, and supporters, after the victory and concessions speeches, as some of the many ballot questions were being reviewed, that Mike sat bolt upright. In Massachusetts voters had passed a non-binding vote in support of their state’s governor who had earlier in the year signed an executive order allowing marriages between human beings and robots. How had he not heard about that?


Her smiling head popped around the corner from the kitchen, where she was putting away the last of the dinner dishes.

“Did you know that humans and robots could get married in Massachusetts?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You had other things to worry about Mike. School was just starting. Besides, Massachusetts is on the other side of the country.”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“Of course I do. Now that I know it’s what you want.”

“Why didn’t you know that before? What about Vegas?”

“What happens in…”

“Don’t say it.”


His Robot Girlfriend – Chapter 3 Excerpt



“It’s Lucas,” she said.





“Umm. She’s a Daffodil.”

“A what? A robot? Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”













“Yes, I think I would.”







“Give us the packages and your wallet.”

Local Writers Group

A writers group can be a valuable tool for a writer.  I have been a part of a writers group for years.  Sadly, that group has dwindled down to just three members including myself.  Nevada is a very transient state.  People move away all the time.  Also, since our group was by and large older, many members have passed away.

I’ve gotten emails from another writers group over the years.  This is one that is actually in my home town (I have to travel to another nearby city for my group).  It is very large and organized.  Over the years I’ve heard some criticism of this group.  They charge large yearly dues, and they offer very little feedback to their members.

However, since I had the time, and they were meeting not far from my house, I decided to go check them out.  They were meeting in a local coffee shop.  I went in and saw the meeting room.  As it was still ten minutes before the start, I stopped at the order counter for a drink.  They had fancy wines, fancy beers, and fancy coffees.  I don’t drink any of those things, and they didn’t have soft drinks, so I turned to the tea menu.  They had ten kinds, and I had heard of exactly one of them.  So, I ordered iced Earl Grey.  It was five bucks.  I tipped two.  I was given my drink, dropped some sweetener in it and turned back to the meeting room.  It was still two minutes before the scheduled start of the meeting.

The door had been shut, but not just any door– a huge metal sliding door.  I kid you not.  It was like the door to get into the computer lab in Tron.  There was no sign saying “Writer’s Group” or “visitors welcome” or anything.  So, I turned and left.

To add insult to injury, the tea was so bad, I threw it away.