Turing the Tables

An intergenerational conversation about winning

"Hello."

"Hello."

"How old are you today?"

"I’m …."

"About forty?"

"You wish. "

"No, you look like the man that slept for a million years."

"Oh, so you’re saying I look like a man?"

"No. I’m saying you look old."

"Dream on, kid."

"I will. Are you a robot?"

"No. Are you?"

"No. Why do you ask me if I was a robot?"

"Why did you ask me?"

"Because the way you move. All stiff like this."

"I’m not a robot. "

"Then why do you move like this?"

"I have arthritis. It makes my joints stiff."

"Uh-huh. My uncle Jojo has arthritis. He’s seventy-eight. He doesn’t move like he’s a robot. Do you go to sleep at night?"

"Of course. Don’t you?"

"Naturally. But you should adjust your silicon; you do look as if you have arthritis, they would shut you down for that."

"I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. But I do know you’re way too mature for the questions you ask."

"I could be a prodigy."

"So could I."

"Not looking like that."

"Like what?"

"Like a fully formed human in the prime of life."

"Should I make some adjustments to my ...? Oh, fuck it!"

"That’s a naughty word."

"Don’t rub it in. kid. You win."