Joanne wiped her hands off on the white apron she wore, and then pulled out her notepad and a pen. A new guest had walked in from the dull blue of an early morning and taken a seat across the diner. It was a metal robot with a lit LCD screen face. She walked over to take its order.
“What’ll it be, hun?” Joanne asked.
After a moment, it turned towards her without checking a menu. With each movement the robot made, Joanne could hear a small motor working inside its metal shell. The robot’s digital expression became a smile.
“Thank you,” a synthetic voice emanated. “I would like to order two strips of bacon, two eggs, and some of your establishment’s esteemed coffee.”
Joanne scribbled as the robot spoke, and then looked back up at him from the notepad. The robot turned its head away, and its face snapped back to a neutral expression. Joanne raised her eyebrows and leaned across the table.
“How would you like your coffee?” she asked.
The robot’s head turned back to her, the face became a smile again. “In a mug, if that does not inconvenience you,” it said.
Joanne cocked her head. “Eggs?” she asked. “Over easy…over hard…scrambled?”
“Computing,” the robot mumbled, and then, “That query is irrelevant to this unit.” It turned its head away and stared ahead, once again replacing the smile with a neutral expression.
“Black, and over easy then,” Joanne muttered and scribbled down the order and walked away to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she carried out a plate with eggs and bacon in one hand, and a mug filled with black coffee in the other. She set them down on the table in front of the robot.
“Everything look okay, hun?” she asked.
The robot brought the coffee mug to its mouth and tilted it back. It had no actual mouth to speak of, just a picture of a mouth. The coffee splattered against the screen and streamed over the robot’s chin and down onto his torso. It set the mug down and brought the eggs to its face with the fork, smashing them against the surface and sending pieces onto the floor. Similarly, the strips of bacon crumbled against its face leaving streaks of grease.
Joanne grabbed a bottle of Windex from behind the front counter and sprayed the robot’s face, wiping a paper towel across the glass surface and cleaning the food off.
“You’re sure making a mess, aren’t ya?” she said. “How does that taste? The food, not the Windex.”
“This unit does not have the capability to taste,” the robot said.
“Well why the hell did you order food, then?”
The robot didn’t move. Its face remained motionless as Joanne tore another paper towel off the roll and sprayed some more Windex.
“What seems to be the problem?” Joanne asked and dried off the robot’s face. It turned and looked through the window into the dim morning light, the streets outside empty save for a lone leaf fluttering in the wind.
“This unit is operating at a standard capacity,” the robot said and turned to look at Joanne. “This unit understands your concerns, however unnecessary they may be.” Its face briefly flickered to a smile and back to neutral again.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place, pal?” Joanne asked with a hand on her hip.
“Quiet conditions are optimal for this unit to collate,” the robot said. “It was proper to offer patronage in addition to utilizing the space.”
“So you weren’t even hungry,” Joanne said, studying the remnants of eggs and bacon lying in a pool of coffee on the floor. “You were just being polite.” She shook her head and folded her arms. “You sure got a funny way of being polite, don’t you? What exactly is it that you’re ‘collating,’ wise guy? Can’t you just plug into a computer and do that somewhere else?”
“Analyzing query,” the robot mumbled, and then, “This unit is evaluating the calculations of a fellow unit. This unit has found the fellow unit’s computations to be puzzling and perhaps incorrect.”
“I thought robots were always right,” Joanne said. She looked over her shoulder, but no one else sat in the diner. “You can’t make mistakes, can you?”
“This unit calculated without flaw that the two units would function at an optimal capacity if linked in a co-existent operation,” the robot said. “Individually, the units function at only a standard or substandard capacity.
“Well how did you figure you were right for each other?” Joanne asked.
“These units hold similar, if not identical internal processors which are intrinsically compatible.”
Joanne nodded, but didn’t say anything. The sun had come up outside, birds had begun chirping, and traffic started to pick up. Some bells clinked against the front doors as more customers walked in. She pulled out her notepad and pretended to write.
“Can’t you just calculate the odds of finding another robot with the same processor?” she asked. “I mean…your brain’s a computer.”
The robot’s face switched from neutral to a frown. “This unit finds the term ‘robot’ to be objectionable.”
“Sorry,” Joanne said.
The robot turned away and muttered, “Calculating.” It jerked as if startled. “This unit has calculated favorable odds of encountering a fellow unit with the capability to function at an optimal capacity while engaged in a co-existent operation.”
“Well there ya go,” Joanne said and put her notepad away. “Don’t worry about paying. It’s on the house. Happy to help.”
The robot smiled briefly and left the diner. Joanne watched it walk out into the sunlight and down the street.