Baby Carrots

“Hello, hello,” Shanae asked.
“Yes.”
“Is this Yum Yum GoGo’s complaint line?” Shanae asked with an edge to her voice.
“Do you not know what you called? I can direct you to medical services, brain trauma. Are you a minor in need of assistance? I can direct you to social services. If you are—“
“Back the truck up. I don’t have a problem. This meal program is the flipping problem. I’m a loyal Yum Yum customer. Where’s my customer service? What kind of person are you?”
“I’m not.”
There was a deep sigh over the phone.
“What the what!” Shanae shouted.
“I’m not a person. I’m a Sentient Artificial Intelligence SAI. State the nature of your complaint, missing delivery, spoilt item, incorrect—“
“So you’re like a souped up Siri?”
The SAI sighed and cursed under its nonexistent breath.
“That’s like saying a human is a souped up chimpanzee. I’m a person. You’re a person. I was alive once ordering overpriced tiny portions of food to pretend cook because I was bone idle. You’re alive now complaining apparently,” the SAI said.
“Wait wait you were alive. You’re dead. I’m talking to a dead person. Wait did you call me a monkey.”
“Are you sure you don’t need medical services because you are slow on the uptake? Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with your fifty bucks of organic squash and angel hair girlfriend so we can both get out of here,” the SAI pleaded.
“It’s baby carrots and you are a total bitch. Why are in customer service?”
“Exactly! I didn’t apply at the funeral home to hear millennials whine over their fake ass food sensitivities. I was a food writer. I lived large and loved hard. Then I got sick and my husband couldn’t go on without me. I downloaded all that I am into an Everlast Griefbot AI so I could be Isha and Max forever. Six weeks in the ground and Max is balls deep in his grief counselor. The love of my life sold me to Dum Dum and I’m being annoyed 24/7/365. What is wrong with your damn pasta, chica?”
“Damn girl, that’s the worst kind of threesome I’ve ever heard. That puts my dinner in perspective. I got marshmallows instead of ricotta but I will just make it work and shut the hell up. Sorry Isha I hope Max gets donkey kicked in the groin,” Shanae said.
Sniffling, Isha said, “that’s the nicest thing I heard in a long time. I am sending you a we’re sorry coupon and a brownie pie in your next order.”
“Thank you Isha and hang in there,” Shanae said sniffling.
“You’re welcome Customer 675990 and remember there is no such thing as a baby carrot. They just whittle down big cheap carrots and charge you up the wazhoo. Have a lovely dinner and a wonderful evening.”

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