My workbench was messy and cluttered, but if a passerby were to examine it they’d probably think it was unorganized in such a way that I could precisely pinpoint exactly where every single screw and circuit board was. This was not the case. In fact my work process is disastrously inefficient and wasteful. This computer, however, won’t be.
I’ve wasted so many resources on developing imperfect models, and even now I’m still trying to engineer something more advanced. Something that exceeds the standards of commercial computing as we know it today. I don’t want to appeal to every spoiled, Cheeto-dust-fingered brat who’s begging for their mommy’s credit card to play the same asinine, mind numbing game about a benevolent hero crusading about, between poorly written and poorly animated cutscenes. I want to be thanked for propelling technology and therefore society years into the future in ways no one could have predicted.
I was surprised to see my son looking through the door to the garage, as I figured he’d be preparing for tomorrow. It’s his last chance to get a perfect score on the SAT. I figured he’d learn his lesson by now after two failed attempts. First a 1500, then he gets a 1470? I ask him why he isn’t studying and I’m met with an indifferent sigh as he walks off back into the house. I can only imagine where I’d be now if I had gotten scores like those. Surprisingly, my 400 didn’t take me very far. He can do it though, he’s gotten perfect scores on other, more advanced tests. However, his 4 in AP Chemistry still haunts me.
I woke up in a panic after looking at the time, 9:32 AM. This wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t arranged for my colleague to meet me here at 9 to look over some of my work. I quickly try to make myself look a little presentable and check the door only to find no one there. I hear my phone buzz and see this text, “Be there in five!” Of course he’d be the one to predict I’d wake up late.
We shared coffee and went to the garage so I could show him some of the progress I’ve made. He was very impressed by some of my work and I started to become skeptical of whether or not he was just being nice. I told him I was unhappy with most of the mockups and models. He seemed puzzled, in his mind it was like he was watching Einstein erase the Theory of Relativity from the chalkboard and work on something else.
Rummaging through my workbench, beneath the wrenches and candy wrappers, was a design plan that I didn’t think much about after I finished it. He examines it, more intensely than any of the other designs or models. He puts it down as though he was too overwhelmed with emotion to look at it anymore.
“This is brilliant.” He said it sharply, as if he was defensive over my own work.
“It’s not good enough.” I said, not being able to see what he thought was so great about it.
While attacking me for my ignorance in not being able to see what he was talking about, he inadvertently explained my own genius to me, “This design could be the most competitive computer on the market right now....”
He droned on, I was stuck on his words, “right now.” As if this would be like anything else, here for only a moment, just to be soon forgotten by advancement.
“If it becomes obsolete, what would have been the point in making it?” I asked, I didn’t wait for him to answer. “This has to be perfect.” He didn’t bother trying to respond, knowing I was coming to my own conclusion. “I have to be perfect.”
He put the mockup down, looked me in the eyes, and said “Everything, eventually, becomes obsolete.”
After he left, I sat in my garage, surrounded by my imperfect creations pondering what he had said to me. I heard my son come home, and walked to the kitchen to see him sitting at the dinner table.
“How did the test go?” I asked, hopeful for the answer I wanted to hear.
“I’ll be honest… I don’t think I got more than what I already scored.”
Processing what he told me felt like it took a century, but in reality the conversation didn’t skip a beat. I fought my impulses, and said lovingly, “Oh well, your highest score was still extremely remarkable.”
Been a while! I haven't written in a while due to various extenuating circumstances that I won't bore you with, that aside, thanks for coming back. This story is one I had a bit of trouble with, I wasn't sure exactly where I wanted it to go. I liked the idea of an imperfect person struggling to create something perfect and just rolled with it. I did have some trouble when it came to the dialogue. I was, for some reason, convinced I'd have to include tech jargon for the story to work but was thankfully convinced by my resident computer nerd that it probably wasn't necessary, and it would probably expose the fact that I do not know anything about computers. I was satisfied that I was able to represent how impressive the main character's creation was, without having to actually write it. I just had the main character go into an aside (the paragraph that starts with "He droned on") and presumably ignore all of the things their colleague thought was impressive about it. Just a little peek into the thought process behind some of this story. Anyway, hoping to get back on the proverbial wagon and write more. Thanks for reading!
P.S. I should really start giving these characters names. Referring to them as "the main character" gets old after a bit.
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