Rise of the Robots

Recently an old friend and I had a wildly enjoyable evening together at this new sushi restaurant on the south side of Orlando. This place operated on the “revolving sushi conveyor belt” concept, which brought servings of two or three pieces continuously to our table. Empty plates were conveniently dropped into a slot on the end of the table, much like dropping a coin into a video game. For every five plates we deposited, we were rewarded with a cute cartoon sequence on the flat-screen monitor above. For every fifteen, a toy in a plastic egg fell down a long tube. Throughout the restaurant, adorable four-foot-tall robots glided up to tables, upbeat music announcing their arrival as they delivered patrons’ drink orders.

It was all truly a marvel of modern technology.

Following a thoroughly disgusting display of gluttony and hedonism, unashamedly devouring our combined weight in unagi nigiri and Philadelphia rolls, we reluctantly decided to call it a night. Before leaving, I excused myself to the ladies’ room.

Upon entering the stall, three blinking lights immediately drew my attention. The commode, more angular in its design, was similar to what I’d seen in documentaries and other programs about life in Japan. As technologically impressive as the rest of the restaurant, those three green lights glowed merrily at me from the toilet seat.

My friend had already visited the restroom at the beginning of our night and revealed some of its secrets, so I wasn’t at all surprised to find that upon sitting, my flesh was greeted by comforting gentle heat. Normally sitting down on a warm toilet seat is a pretty disconcerting experience; however, I had total trust in my friendly robot toilet and its hospitable invitation to get comfortable and stay a while.

If only I had known.

On my left, attached to the wall, was a controller with more fun twinkling lights and a variety of options labeled with emoji-like illustrations. I hit the first button. Despite having a good idea what might happen, I admittedly still didn’t quite manage to bite back my squeak of surprise when a stream of water rushed up from inside the bowl and sprayed my bottom. Having never used a bidet before, I was rather surprised by how finely targeted the thing was. It hit the bullseye, if you know what I mean.

Curiosity piqued, I pressed the next button on the wall, but my brow furrowed when there was no change. I tried again. Nothing. Hmm. The next button, which seem to indicate a blow dry mode, also proved useless. The stream of water just continued to spray directly and firmly onto the most sensitive part of my derriere. Undeterred, I then pushed all of the buttons sequentially, expecting something to interrupt the bidet’s inexorable washing of my bum. Disappointed and defeated, I pressed the button clearly labeled “Stop.”

It did not stop.

So I pressed again.

It still did not stop.

Panic began to set in. Simply standing up and leaving wasn’t option. The water would shoot all over the bathroom, creating a huge mess for which I would feel responsible. Realization dawned that the only thing between this out-of-control bidet’s water cannon of doom and guaranteed humiliation… was my very own fat ass.

At that point, I started to spiral. Am I trapped in an episode of Black Mirror? Or is this just the beginning of the uprising? Here in this handicapped stall in a sushi restaurant in the armpit of Florida, is this where the robots finally revolt and conquer humanity? Is how we end up with SkyNet?

Holy shit. This is how I’m going to die… held hostage by the robot toilet.

I smashed the Stop button over and over. Alas, the bidet rudely insisted on carrying on with its relentless irrigation duties. At a certain point, the water flow began to alter my asshole on a molecular level. I literally felt my DNA warp and change under the power of that ceaseless rushing tide. This fucking machine thoroughly violated my trust, unyielding in its mission, cleaning my bottom so aggressively that even the buttholes of my ancestors were sanitized.

And then… it was all over. The water had stopped as suddenly as it began. I froze in place, terrified any movement I made might raise its ire and spark its wrath once more. Slowly I stood, but… nothing. I was free.

I rushed to re-join my friend, who had been patiently waiting. As I moved through the restaurant, I swore that one of those adorable robot servers paused for just the briefest moment to look at me. Staring, motionless. As if he fucking knew. As if it hadn’t been a freak occurrence at all, but a warning.

And then his jolly music resumed, and he continued on his way to serve the humans at the next table.