Monday, 24 March 2014
The Perfect Male
It was a great day. He, Doctor Lester who once lived in an orphanage for 6 years even though to the best of his knowledge he wasn't orphaned, was now the most talked about scientist on the planet. And rightly so. He had designed the Robot of all robots. He felt a bit miffed that his creation still had to be listed as a robot where one could mistake it for the common house chore robots that littered every household. At least the term 'best robot' in the world set it apart from ordinary rag tag robot designs.
It wasn't every day the perfect robot man was designed. In fact there was hardly any robot with a distinguishable sex until his perfectly male robot. A robot designed to be the perfect man, gentlemanly, loving, caring, patient, hardworking, a listener, a friend, a protector and a great lover. Haha! he swore at his parents, a father he never knew and a mother who wouldn't take an 8 year old baggage to her new life of a husband and a real home.
He had come a long way from all that. Today he was the greatest man alive. A man who had solved the great problem of what women really wanted. He had created the perfect man. As he stood there talking about his creation and his great vision for the future, he looked around at the great mass of people....here because of him. Little ginger haired Martin of the freckles and pimples. Indeed he had come a long way from scholarships and awards through three marriages and divorces. He had left his bad days behind.
Or at least that was what he thought until it was time for questions and an impeccably dressed female at the back who's face he couldn't see raised her hand. He wondered who she was and why the crowd seemed to turn around with such intensity to hear her speak. When however a mic got to her and her voice rang out through the speakers he felt his heart plummet and saw himself again standing again at the orphanage wondering what he had done wrong.
"Tell me Doctor Lester how does a man with 3 failed marriages and a recorded history of violence design the perfect male? Through experience perhaps? And is this a perfect male by your standards or by the standards of females?"
The audience turned as one back to Martin when his third and ex wife gave up the mic. It was as if she was sure she wouldn't need to say anything more no matter his reply.
Martin Lester stood watching his mother drive away that sunny day with his little green box by his side and the huge fat woman he would call Mama for 6 years rubbing a soothing hand in his bright ginger head. What had he done wrong.