Slow Processing Date Night

“Honey! We have to get a move on! I made reservations for 1800 hours not 2030 hours!” Husband Robot stands in front of his bedroom’s mirror tightening his tie and looking over his appearance. He looks sharp but not fatal sharp thanks to his early run to The Buffers, his chrome and metal is smooth and shiny with a new wax polish and a good fluff feeling from the oil and room-temperature steam room too. All the spa treatments was worth the payment of an excruciating 450 gears for both him and his Wife Robot but once the small existence of rust was gone, the day seem to go by a lot smoother.
He decided a plain black suit will go great tonight. It was their 800th Anniversary and it was a slow processing Date Night because once again it was talking his wife FOREVER to get out of the bathroom and get to the restaurant. He turned from the mirror after everything on him look appropriate and made his way to the bathroom door and knocked.
“Love bits,” the nickname he called Wife Robot when none of his drone employees were around to mock him, “what are you doing in there?”
He heard shuffling and then the metal door slid open a few inches from the wall to show his Wife Robot with a robe and a white twisted towel on her head and a facial mask of translucent wires meshed together as a thin layer. “I am about to put on my dress my Metal Minion, I just need my tweezers, which I have misplaced, and I will be complete in 50 milliseconds.” She spoke from underneath her mask while clutching her robe and tilting toward the door.
“Tweezers? And what do you mean by ‘about to put on my dress’? Why aren’t you ready now?” He rushed out questions looking tired and agitated.
“Because you are standing here taking my time instead of finding my tweezers.” She retorted back with a default expression.
He sighed. Bickering will not get her moving faster. He complying will. He turned and searched the room in all the compartments of the bedroom for her tweezers she need for whatever reasons seeing how she has no body hair.
The bathroom door slid back open again after a few moments, he could hear her voice even without turning around. “Make sure you bring so Air Compression Chips for when you eat the Mexican food tonight. You know you get serious chest burn if you consume Enchiladas!” The door slid back close after she was done.
He stopped and stood up straight lifting his head back and closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and made a mental note to bring the Air Compression Chips after locating the tweezers. However, Wife Robot was not done talking yet but still not ready for their Date Night.
“Oh and if you forget to bring them and eat the enchiladas anyway,” she began through the crack of the door looking at him with a normal expression but talking in a deep threatening tone as he turned to watch her with his full attention, “You could get a ride back with someone else, because we will not be transporting back in the same transporting device if you get bloated.” And with that he was back to looking at the bathroom door and still looking for the pair of tweezers and probably showing his anxiety on his face. He dropped his head and sighed again. It’s going to be a long Date Night.


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