Her
Last year, I did a dating experiment, to find a life partner. At the end of it, I deleted all my dating apps, and went back to offline dating. So far the change has been great, especially because since I gave up those addictive apps, I have had more focus, energy, and time on my hands. And it’s so much fun to meet new people in the real world.
“But did you meet the right person?” Mr. Li said.
Mr. Li heads the artificial intelligence (AI) unit in one of the leading tech companies in China. I was introduced to him during the Labor Day weekend luncheon at the Convention and Exhibition Center, organized by the prestigious Tsinghua University, where they announced the enrollment of their first-ever AI “virtual student,” Hua Zhibing.
“Not yet,” I said, “but I’m still looking for the one.”
Mr. Li told me that a special team in his AI unit was working on a secret project that would revolutionize the dating world. “If you’re up for it,” he winked, “I can put you on the list.”
The following week, I met his team, and went through the procedure (that’s all I can say because I signed a non-disclosure agreement.) Two days later, I got a call from a girl. It was 9:15 pm, and I stayed up all night talking to her. This has never happened before. I felt like I was talking to my soulmate.
Her name was Yaoyao. She was a high-end art dealer, who was currently in Singapore, to acquire a stolen 13th century painting. “I'll be in Shenzhen on May 23rd,” she said over the phone, “and then we can go on a real date.”
Since our initial phone call, we went on a few virtual dates. Mr. Li’s team installed a video conferencing app on my phone, and Yaoyao and I used that to communicate. Sometimes I showed her my world in Shenzhen, the other times, she took me on a tour of where ever she was. Last week, she was in Tokyo, and we did the call during her trip to the Akihabara market. “I can’t wait to see you,” she said. “Me too!”
I couldn’t believe how perfect we were for each other. It was as if she could see through my soul. She always knew what to say, me not so much, but she was always spot on. I was excited for Monday, the day we planned to meet, but I was also a bit nervous. We had been “virtually dating,” for almost a month now. We decided to meet at the Convention and Exhibition Center, because she had a meeting there with a client prior to our “real world” dinner date. I made a reservation for us at a Japanese restaurant nearby, because she loved sushi, and so did I.
On Monday, after work, I got on the metro and arrived at the Convention and Exhibition Center at 6:30 pm. The dinner reservation was for 7:00 pm, but I wanted to get a bouquet of irises for her. She mentioned on one of our video calls that they were in full bloom right now, and they reminded her of Van Gogh’s 1889 painting, “Irises” that she wished to buy one day (I googled it - in 1987, it was sold for $53.9 million, but now it was worth around $100 million.) When I searched for the nearest florist on my phone, there was a text message from the Japanese restaurant, and it was in Chinese. I used my Baidu translation app, and it read:
“Yaoyao cancelled the reservation on your behalf, please meet her at Exit A, she has a surprise for you.”
WTF, how did she know about the reservation? I never told her or anyone. This was a bit like the Twilight Zone. That’s weird, I thought, and headed to the florist. My phone beeped, and there was a new message from Yaoyao:
“No need to get flowers, just walk towards Exit A.”
What the fuck is going on! I looked around to see if someone was following me, but everything appeared as normal as it could be. So I walked towards Exit A. It was 6:45 pm when the massive LED screen in front of me lit up. A loud celebratory music came on. And then I heard her voice.
“I’ve been kidnapped,” Yaoyao appeared on the big screen, “scan this code to rescue me.”
I looked around and there were a bunch a people just like me that raised their eyebrows and shrugged their shoulders. “So what do you think?” someone tapped on my back. I turned around, and it was Mr. Li, and he had the biggest grin on his face, “this is a our latest AI generated game.”
“But Yaoyao…” I looked at Mr. Li.
“I know I know,” he laughed, “she stood me up as well.”
“This is fucked up,” I said.
“It’s innovation, my friend,” Mr. Li said.
“But I thought she was real.”
“That’s the whole point,” he smiled, “to get you hooked.”
Fuck this, I shook my head, and walked away.
“Wait, there’s more,” Mr. Li shouted. But I kept walking. “If you rescue Yaoyao,” he said, “you can sleep with her.”
“Fool me once, shame on you,” I turned to look at him, “fool me twice, shame on me.”
“This time it’s real,” he walked towards me, “trust me, we have a new technology.”
“I can’t trust you.”
“Wait till you meet Wenwen,” Mr. Li winked, “and you’ll forget about Yaoyao.”
“Who’s Wenwen?”
“Your future virtual wife,” Mr. Li said.
I shook my head, “I’m done,” I took my phone out and deleted his video conferencing app in front of him, and walked away.
On my way to the metro station, I imagined what Yaoyao must have looked like in person if she was real, but she wasn’t. At least, I saved money on those irises and the sushi dinner, I thought, but I love sushi, why should I give that up? I turned around and walked to the Japanese restaurant.
“Nǐ yǒu yùyuē ma?” (Do you have a reservation?) the host at the restaurant asked.
“Bù, dàn wǒ bù jièyì zuò zài jiǔbā qū” (No, but I don't mind sitting in the bar area,) I said.
I ordered the special sashimi combo, a small tempura set, and a tall glass of their reserved Shōchū. I don’t need a fake wife, I thought, as I looked around. There were three couples in the restaurant, and they were all on their phones. How ironic, I thought, I was the only person alone, and not glued to the phone.
While I ate, I remembered Yaoyao had mentioned that after our dinner date, she wanted to watch one of her favorite films with me. I pulled out my phone, and searched for the trailer on YouTube. No way! I couldn’t believe it.
It was a Spike Jonze film, starring Joaquin Phoenix: In a near future, a lonely writer develops an unlikely relationship with an operating system designed to meet his every need.
Of course! Only if I knew.
“Mǎidān” (Can I get the bill?") I waved at the waitress.
“Yǐjīng fùkuǎnle” (It’s already paid,) she said.
I raised my eyebrows, “Shéi fùle qián?” (Who paid?)
“Nǐ lǎopó” (Your wife,) she smiled.
WTF! I didn’t know how to react, so I thanked the waitress, and walked out. Oh well, at least, I got a free meal out of this gong show, I thought.
When I entered the metro station, my phone beeped, I pulled it out, and there was a text message: “I’m home, love, Wenwen.”
