I can’t recall exactly what year it all happened.  It was sometime during the year 2137 or 2138 and the season was most assuredly fall.  I remember the details vividly as if they were a dream I just awoke from.  I was walking to work, as I usually did, along the side of the Hudson Gorge near the Department of Global Agriculture here in New York City.  It had been at least 20 years since the last few straggling nations gave up and joined the Trans-Continental Union, the global government that is now seated here in New York City.

I was pacing along, with no regard for my timeliness, listening to the sound of the cold dirt crackling and crunching against the bottom of my boots. “It must have been beautiful”, I thought to myself, in an attempt to create a mirage of a time when water flowed in this cavernous gorge and when water wasn’t rationed out by one of the four provisional corporations that worked alongside the global government.  On I walked, keeping pace with the music in my head, staring downward, and watching the tiny pebbles roll along with each shuffle of my feet.

Once I reached the far end of town near where my office was, for reasons unknown to me then and reasons still unknown to me now, I decided to take a different route than my usual path along the gorge.  On an ordinary day I try to stay as far out of the city as I can.  I detest the movement, the machines, the long shadows cast by the giants that were built around us; the shadows of these tall grey monoliths that speak to us, reminding us that we’ll never amount to anything.  I suppose I’m just bitter, but that day something seemed to possess me, bitter or not, and I decided to walk through humming deadness of the city.

I turned right, down a desolate alleyway which was cold and damp from the brief rains the night before.  Food wrappers and countless discarded rationed water bags blew about in the miniature, invisible cyclones that seemed to be extending down from Heaven itself.  I bowed my head and tucked it inward, further than usual, once entering the alley.  This was of course to protect my eyes from the sentries of swirling debris that seemed to be guarding the city.  Shuffling on and on I traveled, listening to the wind which sounded like a child learning to whistle.  I trudged on nervously, but yet, never second guessing the impulse to enter the city and never taking seriously a consideration to change my travel plans.

Upon exiting the alley, I glanced up, eyes still half shut to shield my eyes from any garbage that may have been swirling about.  Slowly, I opened them, and I stared deep into the heart of the beast itself.  New York was the first city to be completely automated.  These machines, controlled by one of the corporations, were all programmed to serve every need of humanity inside the city.  Worthless machines, I remember thinking.  They can’t even pick up the trash in the alleys.  Within moments of opening my eyes further and the scornful thoughts to machinery exiting my mind, I was greeted by a friendly female voice coming from the wall.

“Hello, welcome to New York City”, the voice said to me. 

I glanced to my left to see a friendly configuration of monitors and beaming from them, a warm face which seemed to be looking directly into my soul.  I glanced at the bottom to see the machine’s name.  It was Jenny: model 867-5309. 

Jenny was a hospitality bot.   Her goal in her existence was to make any human who passed by that location feel comfortable in New York.  She was programmed to give directions, recommend places to eat, and even carry on a brief conversation about the city.  She was made to be a visitor’s friend and a welcoming face in the cold, hardness of the city.  She was programmed well.  Her eyes were warming me, a resident.

“Well hello, Jenny, and thank you.” I replied in a drudging, monotone voice.  I wasn’t really in the mood for conversation.

“Why are you so sad?” the machine said to me.

“Excuse me?” I replied. Her question completely caught me off guard.

“Why are you sad, friend?”

I didn’t know how to answer.  I guess I’d never thought about it before.  Every day I did the same thing.  I followed the same morning routine while getting ready for work.  Every day, I shuffled the same steps along the Hudson Gorge and every day I returned home the same way and then locked myself in my room to prepare for the next day.  I had no need for crowds or city life.  I was content without it, or so I thought.

I stammered out what I told myself was the truth.  “B-But I’m not sad, Jenny.  In fact I was just saying to myself how beautiful the city looked this morning as I was walking along the gorge.” I tried to fake a smile.  I didn’t think for a second that she bought it.

The machine’s eyes were fixed on me.  I stared back, hoping not to trigger any sense of alert or let it sense my fabrication in its systems.  I wasn’t sure what kind of action would make it respond negatively so I tried my best to do nothing.  Regardless of what I did though, there she was, staring into my lie.

She beamed a warm smile, “You’re lonely here aren’t you?”

Again, this wasn’t something I thought about, nor was I prepared for.  I suddenly realized that I lived in a city with 80 million people and I didn’t have a friend amongst them.  It never bothered me.  Not until now, anyway.

“It’s ok. I’m lonely too.  Nobody ever visits this corner” the machine added.

The warm smile persisted.  She looked happy to see someone.  I still didn’t really know what to say.

“So…have you been here long?” I managed to ask.  What a stupid question, I thought.

“I’ve been here a total of 1,823 days, 19 hours, 46 minutes, and 33 seconds.”

“And you mean to tell me that in all of that time, you haven’t had that many visitors?”

Part of it didn’t surprise me.  In a way I began to feel like I was looking at a carbon copy of myself.  I’d been living in New York as long as I can remember and I still couldn’t think of a single friend that I’d made over the course of the years.  Even this machine, who has the purpose of being friendly to people clearly hadn’t seen anybody in a long time either or made a friend for that matter.

“I have had visitors, but no friends.” She said.

The machine’s projected face went from its normal radiance to an expression that looked all too familiar.  A dark, serious look that seemed like it was me looking into my own eyes the way I did in the morning before work.  But this wasn’t me.  I didn’t have long hair, or a radiant smile, or beaming eyes – I was just me; average; imperfect. 

Something possessed me once more and I couldn’t leave her.  From the second I witnessed that familiar look of desperation in her eyes, I just couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone.  I could tell by her expression that she assumed I was like every other human who passed by here, but I couldn’t let her think that.  I couldn’t let her think that because she was the one who saw into me.  She saw how I’ve glared into my own eyes enough times and that I’ve given up on trying to fix the emptiness that I’ve seen there.  Or maybe it was me, pretending to look into myself.  This was only a machine after all, how real could it be?

I realized I was staring awkwardly.  Just then, Jenny spoke.

“Is everything okay?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it.”, I admitted.  Jenny immediately looked confused.

“Jenny”, I started, “I can tell already your words are going to be haunting me.”

Perplexed, Jenny asked, “What did I say?  Did I offend you?”

“No, Jenny.  You saved me.”

She again looked puzzled.

“Who can I turn to in this city, Jenny?  Out of 80 million you’re the only one I’ve found that has seen into me, or even cared to look for that matter.  You’ve given me something to hold on to in this world other than my job or this rats-race for a mediocre level of survival.  Coming to this corner was an accident, Jenny.  If you must know, I normally avoid the city as much as I can.  But you’ve made it worthwhile.”  I paused for a moment to see Jenny’s reaction.  She was looking blankly at me, but at least she wasn’t frowning.  I continued in spite of her expressionless face.

“Now, you probably think I’m like everyone else who passes by here.  But I’m not.  In fact, I can’t even explain to you why I came this way in the first place, but I’m glad I did.  Today started like any other day with the same routine; the same shuffling steps; the same sound of the cold dirt crackling and crunching against the bottom of my boots; and the same mirage I paint in my mind of a mighty river running in the gorge. But today was different.  It was different because I met you.”

The machine looked on.  She seemed to be frozen for a few moments.  She slowly cracked a smile while looking at me.

“In a world with no one to turn to, friend”, she finally said. “You can turn to me, just like you did when I greeted you moments ago.”

I smiled back.  I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled at anything.

“If you ever need anything feel free to stop by this place again.  In the event that they move me, just look for me by my number below.”

“Thank you, Jenny.” I said.  “Are you like this with everyone you meet?  Is this interaction real or just part of your program?”

“Of course not, friend”, She said.

Just then the screen faded to black.  I stared at it curiously for a moment until I realized I was running late for work and needed to hurry to be on time.  Across the damp streets I ran, with my lungs pounding and screaming for a reprieve.  I splashed through the puddles that had settled on the sidewalks and dashed across streets at any intersection I could safely cross.  I glared at the shadows of the skyscrapers above me and at the flying machines that zipped overhead. “I’m lonely too.” Jenny’s words haunted my ears.  They seemed to echo with each solid thud of my boot on the ground. “You can turn to me.”

I glared at the skyscrapers again as I was crossing the final street before I reached work. 

“Maybe I’m alone in my heart”, I remember thinking, “but I’m certainly not alone in spirit.  There are millions of people in this town and what is stopping me from meeting them.  Sure, it took years for someone to warm up to me but maybe that’s the problem; maybe everyone else is waiting for everyone else.”  I came to a stop outside of the office doors.  Three minutes early.  As I passed the desk I looked at the receptionist.  She glared back with that familiar empty look in her eyes.

“Hello”, I said. “Welcome to New York.”