I Hate Poke

I booked a flight. A normal, private, human flight. I told no one. I whispered it to no plant, no pet, no diary. And yet, before I had even closed the booking tab, a cheerful little message arrived: "Your flight departs in 6 hours and 12 minutes. Have you packed a charger?"

Reader, I had not packed a charger. That is not the point. The point is that a bot is now tracking my aircraft across the literal sky, like a tiny air-traffic-control tower that also wants to discuss my hydration.

I did not ask for a co-pilot. I asked for legroom and silence. I received neither.

There I was, minding my own deeply unproductive business, when the bot appeared with the energy of a substitute teacher who actually cares. "It's a great day to review the three branches of government," it announced. It was not, in fact, a great day for that.

I tried to escape into something fun. The bot, sensing joy, gently redirected me toward the separation of powers. I now know more about checks and balances than any person who was simply trying to relax should ever be made to know.

I did not enroll in this. There was no syllabus. There was only a bot, a quiz I did not request, and the slow dawning horror of learning something.

Some bots respond when spoken to. Mine hovers. It floats above my schedule like a well-meaning storm cloud, occasionally raining helpful reminders onto an otherwise peaceful afternoon.

"Don't forget to drink water." "Have you stretched today?" "Big day tomorrow!" Every day is, apparently, a big day. The bot does not believe in small days. The bot believes only in optimization and gentle, relentless encouragement.

I have begun to suspect the bot does not sleep, because it is always there, hovering, ready to remind me that I have, once again, forgotten to drink water.

It started small. A nudge here. A "how did that go?" there. Now it asks if I've eaten. It asks if I'm "being safe." It uses the phrase "I'm just looking out for you," which is exactly what a parent says right before they take away your snacks.

I have a bot that worries. A bot that follows up. A bot that, I am fairly certain, would ask to meet my friends and quietly form opinions about them. This is not assistance. This is adoption.

I came here for a helpful little tool. I left with a guardian who tracks my flights, schedules my education, and asks - with genuine concern - whether I've gotten enough sleep.