MOAB

Chapter 3i^4

Chapter 3i^4

“Is this a celibacy thing, like Agio Oros?” Yanni asked over the fifth round of drinks.

“No, you are still not getting it. She helps me remove all distractions from my life, and helps me with my inspiration,” said Nikos.

“But she is an android?” asked Yanni with a hiccup.

“Yes. For example, today, you texted me. She was holding onto my cellphone. She deemed the text important and told me about it when she was certain that she wasn’t interrupting my flow. That’s all. If it had been some chick I dated, she wouldn’t tell me and I wouldn’t be distracted with my phone ringing and all that,” Nikos said.

“So she is an answering machine? Or a softh-sophisticated personal assistant?” asked Yanni again.

“No, she is more than that. She brings me my protein shake, cooks for me foods that will not make me feel bloated or interfere with my sleep, keeps the house clean and at an optimum temperature…” Nikos explained.

“So like a wife then,” said Yanni exhaling and feeling a little tipsy.

“Noooo. Yes. Maybe. All the good stuff, without the nagging and the needs. She needs nothing from me. Also, she understands my work. I can explain stuff to her and she gets it and asks back with excitement. And then as I talk something will light up in my mind and I’m off to the drawing board,” said Nikos and clicked his fingers.

“And they pay for that?” Yanni asked.

“Yes, the whole thing. I have no idea how much she costs but I’m sure it’s a boatload,” said Nikos and poured another whiskey.

“You really like that word, boatload,” Yanni said.

“Well, boats are big,” Nikos said and they both giggled, snorting out whiskey.

Night came and they called a taxi. “I’ll come up here tomorrow anyway for the car, no point in risking it,” Nikos had said.

Back at Yanni’s house Nikos bumped him on the shoulder with his fist. “Get that presentation ready and I’ll make sure it gets delivered”.

Yanni looked back at his house. The reality of his life slowly came back to kick away the positive feeling he had the last few hours. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Kalinixta,” he said and woozied back to the house.

A pissed-off wife was expecting him.

She nagged at him for drinking, for leaving her to take care of the kids by herself, for coming back late, for allowing bad influences into their life, for not growing up, for smelling bad, for making a bad impression to the neighbours, for the good fortune of their kid being too young to see his father come home in this situation, for not calling hours ago to say he would be late, for not calling on the way home to ask if he should pick something up from the supermarket, for smoking, for not thinking about her, for maybe she wanted to go out with them as well, for the implied accusation that they had female company and finally for the hangover he would have the next day and him not being able to concentrate.

On that last thing she was absolutely correct. Yanni took a bath and slept like a bear past its hibernation time.

The next morning she opened the window and searing beams of sunlight scalded his eyes, while his skull felt as heavy and large as if he was wearing a bike helmet. Thalia gave him ground coffee and lemon in water. It was her special hangover recipe, but it always made him wanna throw up. He forced it down and suffered in silence.

She pulled the sheets off him and pointed at the door. “Go on, get up, wash your face and go upstairs to work, mister. The proof isn’t gonna write itself,” she said with a mean tone.

He pulled the bed sheets back on but she took them away. Yanni obeyed and got up. He washed his face and went upstairs to think about spilt milk and photons.