RobbieRand
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2016
- Posts
- 302
"Andy the Android"
8pm, Thursday night:
As the beat cops entered the bodega, the elderly owner pointed them toward a man standing at the end of the counter, casually eating from a bag. With a heavy accent, the owner complained, "Won't pay, won't leave. Make pay ... leave."
The officers made their way casually though cautiously over to the man. He was in his mid-20s, attractive, and athletically built. He wore a simple white tee shirt, loose fitting jeans, and hiking style boots, all of which appeared as if they'd just come off the rack from any one of a number of shopping mall stores. His brunette hair was short and neat, and he was freshly shaven. When he turned to make eye contact with the approaching officers, he smiled politely. His teeth were stained orange as he offered out the bag in his hand and invited, "Cheetos?"
"Are you carrying any weapons, sir?" the male asked. "Gun...? Knife...?"
The man with the chip bag only smiled as he stuffed another treat into his mouth and shook the open end of the bag to the officers. "I like Cheetos. Do you like Cheetos? Have a Cheetos?"
He shook the bag again, then donned an expression of comical confusion. "When you offer another individual a single Cheetos, should you say 'Have a Cheetos', plural, or 'Have a Cheeto', singular?"
It probably seemed obvious that the man hadn't begun his day with a full bag of Cheetos between his ears. The officers began the routine questioning and arrest procedures routine for the mentally challenged, treating him politely while always maintaining their own safety. Off to the side, the bodega's owner was once again reminding them, "Make pay!"
The man with the Cheetos willingly submitted to the officer's instructions. When they didn't find any ID, the female asked, "What's your name, sir?"
"I am Andy, Thomas Robotics and Android Advancements prototype Unit A-6," the man told her. He smiled politely, asking each of them individually, "What is your name?"
"Andy Thomas...?" the male officer asked, unsure of whether he'd heard Andy Thomas, pause, and the rest, or Andy pause, and the rest. He'd never heard of the company which was generally simply referred to as Thomas Robotics because the company was one of the most secret technology companies on the planet. He pulled his hand cuffs from his belt and dangle them, saying calmly, "Well, Andy Thomas, we're going to take you to a safe place, but ... I need to put these on you. Do you understand?"
"No," Andy said politely to the male, asking just as politely, "Can you explain?"
His partner took the handcuffs and explained precisely what she was going to do. Andy nodded politely, then held his wrists close to one another in front of him. Procedure called for the hands to be behind the back, but soon enough the pair were walking Andy out the door, hands linked before him, to a patrol car they'd called to the scene.
"Am I going home?" Andy asked with a tone that lacked hope or concern, as if he cared not one way or another. When the male officer asked him if he knew his address, Andy only said, "No."
"We're going to take you to a safe place, Andy," the male officer told him, as his partner gave their report to the car's driver. "Do you have someone you can call when you get there, Andy, to come pick you up? A friend? Wife, girl friend ... boy friend. Parent maybe?"
The male winked to his partner as he finished, "Doctor maybe?"
"No," Andy answered simply. He smiled as if a child who'd just been given a cookie and said, "I will go to your safe place."
As the car headed off into the thick, early evening traffic, a teenage girl stepped up and said, "I saw'em dump'im."
"Saw who dump who?" the male officer asked.
"Saw who dump whom," she corrected. After getting a get on with it gesture, she nodded in the direction of the departing car. "Him whom. A car pulled up, the driver got out, came 'round, opened the door, helped that guy out, then split."
The cops asked the girl for any details they could give about the man or the car, but she'd been flirting with some guys and hadn't been paying that much attention. She asked if they could use traffic or sidewalk cameras, adding accusingly, "Got enough of them in this police state of ours, right?"
"They probably dumped him after the insurance ran out," the male cop suggested after waving the teen off. As he glanced around, finding no obvious cameras that could help, he looked to his partner and clarified, "Mental institution, I mean. They're not gonna keep him if no one's paying the bills, no matter how nuts he is. Andy the android. Yeah."
The pair went back inside to talk to the bodega owner, but there really wasn't much more to be done.
Midnight, three days later:
Andy was standing on the sidewalk outside the precinct when the female officer to whom he'd offered a Cheeto -- singular -- descended the steps at the end of her shift, now dressed in her street clothes. Andy was wearing the same clothes from that night at the bodega, and by the looks of them he hadn't removed them during all that time. As he caught her eye, Andy smiled as politely as ever.
"Thank you for taking me to a safe place, Lady Officer," he said as if the last two words spoken were truly her name. He held up a sheet of paper that had official looking letterhead, explaining, "The nice doctor from the safe place told me that my mandatory stay of 72 hours had passed, and that I should find a friend or relative with whom I should stay while my meds kick in."
Andy lifted his other hand, which contained two prescription bottles. He went on, "I did not understand what the nice doctor from the safe place meant when she said I should stay with a friend or relative. She explained who a relative is, and I said I have no such person. She explained who a friend is, someone who does nice things for you and for whom you do nice things."
He took a step closer, continuing, "You found me a safe place to stay, and I offered you a Cheeto."
With a smile and matter of fact tone, Andy finished, "You are my friend."
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