Dating Myself

Dating Myself . . .A later chapter

Laura was putting the last pieces in place when she got a text.  It was Mistress Dee (or just Dee to Laura).  

I’m downstairs

Laura wasn’t sure if her creation was ready to be seen, but she trusted  Dee’s opinion and knew that she wasn’t the judgmental type.  Dee had seen stranger strangers before in her line of work.  

Dee was tall with curvy, yet hard features, black curly hair which she often wore in a Swedish Heidi braid style, and wore all black.  She dressed to intimidate and was paid well for it.  It made her feel powerful and allowed her to feel some control in the chaotic world.  She grew up as a tomboy and liked feeling feminine and strong.  

She came to check up on Laura.  She hadn’t seen her in days and knew Laura had a tendency to get upset and isolate for days on end obsessing over something.  She worried about her like a sister.  As someone who was also ostracized in childhood, she could relate. 

Laura buzzed Dee in and paced the room.  

She’s been loyal as a friend since college. She wouldn’t think I’m crazy.  She already knows I’m a little crazy.  Ha!!  Laura became giddy like a mad scientist. 

She unlocked the door just as Dee turned the handle.  Dee’s eyes were wide.  

“You alright?”  

“Yeah, just working. You?”

“It’s been a busy day . . Can I ask what you’re working on?”


“And?” Dee nudged

“Oh, yeah, you want to see it?” Laura almost stated bluntly.

Dee was confused, but her curiosity was peaked with a hint of relief.

Laura walked briskly into the kitchen.  Dee removed her long clunky boots at the door and left them on the doormat that said “Home is Where the Hermit is”.   Custom made cuteness, Dee thought.

“I think I’ve made hope,” Laura stated almost surprised at herself. “I call him Harold . . . Harry for short.”  Dee could only think for a second that Harry sounds a lot like Henry, when her thought was interrupted  by Laura pulling a bedsheet off an object like she was Penn or Teller  revealing how stupid anti-vaxxers are.  

Dee stepped back in shock. “Who?. . .” she started.  Laura- “He’s my invention”

“I’ve finally built what I wanted.  No one understands me, right?”

“I understand you . . .At least I try”

“I mean romantically . .as in a partner.  So many women have to weed out the misogynists, the sociopaths, the sloths, the guys with ridiculous standards, the unintelligent . . often these guys are the same person.    But now . . .I have Harry.”  

“Hi Dee, I am Harold . . .but Laura can call me Harry.”

Dee Laughed.

“What? . . I like being special” Laura smirked.

“He sounds exactly like that ASMR that Robert does.”  

“Well, he did help me and lent his voice for it”

“Laura,”Dee said, grinning.  “You should have called him Rob, as in Robot.”

“Hardy Har Har.  I did program him to say some of the same things in that ASMR video.  It was too good not to.  He is intelligent, can match emotion (even with me), is funny, appreciates my dark humor, has a man giggle, is VERY imaginative, and quite attractive, if you don’t mind me saying so.”  

“You are an artist.”

“Yes. I had some help with the molding.” Laura stated.  “Ooh, also he makes espresso.”

“You mean from the machine?”

“ No, I mean he has a built in espresso maker.   . . perfect for traveling together.” Laura seemed most proud of this for some reason.

Dee closely examined Harry for a while in silence.  “Why’d you think of this?”

“Well, you know I got tired of people thinking I was robotic and them not being able to figure me out?   . . . I decided maybe a robot could.”

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