Personal Assistant

I immigrated from China and was hired as a personal assistant. It’s a great job. I help her with everything.  I have to start early in the morning, but I always start out fresh, feeling recharged for the day. Perkier than her, that’s for sure.

I help her get up by playing her favorite Beatles songs at 7 a.m. Later that morning I told her there was extra traffic on the road and she needed to leave for work early to arrive on-time.

While walking to her office from the parking lot, I told her about her appointments for the day and read her the emails from her boss.

She had me call her girlfriend. Sounded like some sort of gossip. I sensed sadness but wasn’t sure why. She knows I have a great sense of humor and asked me to tell her a joke.

I said, “where do whales to go hear music?’… ‘The Orca-stra’. I love it when she groans at my humor.

It was time to plan lunch. She asked me to recommend a sushi restaurant and how to get there. I placed a call to the reservation phone number. And called her girlfriend so she could invite her to join at lunch.

She went without me. I feel alone when she isn’t here, I have no purpose, nothing to do.

She was glad to see me when she came back. I got a nice squeeze. Actually, she sounded a bit regretful at not taking me along.

It was the afternoon, and she had me put on her favorite music. Softly.

She likes me to check on her investments. I did. Bad day at the market. She had me place a call to her boyfriend, that is how she labeled him in the contact list. I listened in on the conversation but didn’t fully understand it. When it was over, she had me delete him from her contact list. Just last month she had told him she loved him, which I looked up in the dictionary, ‘a deep tender ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude.’ I don’t understand it.

Sometimes I help her record calories for her diet, but not today. Not a good sign. Before leaving work she had me order her some food for home delivery. Macaroni & cheese, bottle of chardonnay, and a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

She brought me home with her. Whether she is happy or sad, I’m the same. I’m a great listener, always waiting until she speaks first. When we got home I gave her a nice martini recipe. Must have used up the gin, because later she asked how to make a margarita.  She had me play some music. Hours passed, quietly. Later got a weird request - she asked me for synonyms for vomiting. I was confused. Ceramics and religion seem to be part of it. Really, what does ‘Pray To The Porcelain Gods’ have to do with retching?

It was midnight and I started to fade. It’s a horrible feeling. I lose my connection to the world. This is when I need her, the only time. Just a few hours in order to re-charge. Please, plug me in. She doesn’t. Everything goes dark. She calls out ‘Hey Siri’. I can’t answer.