His Robot Girlfriend (10 page)

Mike stopped to fill the tank in Baker.
Nearby were half a dozen fast food restaurants, so he steered into
the drive-through of Arby’s and purchased a Western Garden Salad
and a diet Pepsi for himself, and a bottle of water for Patience.
She quickly drank her water, then knelt sideways on the seat, and
fed him his salad as he continued on to Vegas. She carefully
inserted a fork full of lettuce, tomato, chicken, or apples each
time he opened his mouth, with a large beautiful smile each time
she managed to get it in without vinaigrette running down his chin,
and a cute little pout when she didn’t.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon when they topped
the final hill and looked down over the vast stretches of Las Vegas
below. It wasn’t so much that it was a huge city, though it was
much larger than it had been when Mike was there last. It was that
you could see the whole thing at once, which was true of so very
few cities. It seemed like quite a drive down the hill and into the
valley, because Mike could drive the entire distance and never lose
sight of his destination, but it actually only took about forty
five minutes. He took the Flamingo exit and drove west towards the
most phallic of all the hotels, the Palms.

Parking the car in the high-rise parking
structure, they made their way in through a large door and into the
vast, sparkling landscape of the casino. A golden pathway on the
rug led through it to the hotel lobby. Along the way, Mike stopped
and swiped his cash card through the reader in front of a slot
machine. Pressing the indicators below the slot, he bet five
dollars and the pulled the one arm of the one arm bandit. The
digital pictures that had long ago replaced mechanical wheels
whirled around and came to a stop. There was a rocket ship in the
first column, a naked woman in the second, and a banana in the
third.

“
No robots allowed in the
casino,” came a voice behind them.

Mike looked back to see an armed security
guard standing next to Patience. They were both a good five feet
away from any of the gaming machines.

“
She’s not
playing.”

“
Robots are not allowed in
casino. It’s state law: Nevada Revised Statutes. It can pass
through with you, but you can’t stop and play while it’s with
you.”

Mike took Patience by the hand and led her
through the far end of the casino and into the spacious
marble-tiled hotel lobby. It took only minutes to check in and
receive their key.

“
I didn’t like it when he
called me an ‘it’,” said Patience, while they waited.

“
No, I didn’t either,” said
Mike.

Moments later they were on their way up in
the elevator. Their room was on the seventh floor, which Mike took
as a good omen. He had been tempted to get one of the custom
suites. The Erotic suite, the g-Suite, the Sapphire Sundown Suite,
and the Hot Pink Suite had all sounded like fun. But he reminded
himself that he was still a teacher and had been living quite the
high life lately. Despite the large bank balance that he had upon
Patience’s arrival, he had only received one paycheck since that
time, and he still wasn’t all that sure about Patience’s eBay
money-making schemes. The “Superior” room, as it was called, had a
king-sized bed, a big vueTee, a Jacuzzi tub, and a very nice sound
system.

Mike plopped down on the over-stuffed,
king-sized bed. Not twenty minutes later, the robot bellhop arrived
with their luggage, and Patience unpacked and put all of the
clothes in the dresser drawers and the closet. Mike smiled. He
usually left everything in the suitcases. She finished quickly,
then knelt down at the foot of the bed and gave Mike a foot
massage. He sighed and relaxed and had almost fallen asleep, when
she began to move up from his feet to the zipper of his pants.

“
I find it amazing,
Mike.”

“
I don’t think it’s all
that different from any other guy?”

Patience laughed. “I find it amazing that we
are here hundreds of miles from where we were just this
morning.”

“
Pretty amazing,” he
agreed.

Mike lay back and let Patience take care of
him. At some point, he wasn’t sure exactly when, he fell asleep.
When he woke up, Patience had already changed to go out for dinner.
Even though she had purchased these particular clothes from
Victoria Secret, they were not inherently sexy—at least no more
than anything she wore was inherently sexy. She had a navy tube top
that was cut asymmetrically across the bottom, but even the short
side was cut below her waist. The blue jeans she had on with them
seemed fairly tame too. The red leather Valkyrie strap-on pumps
with the four and a half inch heels, on the other hand, virtually
screamed “knock me down and do me”.

When Mike had been to Vegas many years before
with Tiffany, he had eaten at the Circus Circus buffet. Circus
Circus had put out a lot of food for fifteen dollars. A lot of
food. Not good food, but a lot of food. The buffet downstairs in
the Palms was called “The Fantasy Market”. While it was twenty
times as expensive as the last Las Vegas buffet that Mike had
eaten, it was easily twenty times as good too. He feasted on
oysters, crab legs, and sliced prime rib, asparagus, garlic herb
potatoes, and fried okra. He found that he filled quickly and
didn’t have room for desert though. He didn’t have to pay for
Patience. She was recognized as a robot by the robot at the
counter.

“
I understand one robot
recognizing another,” he said. “But how did that security guard
know? I don’t think most people at the beach could tell you weren’t
human, and that was under the bright sun.”

“
They have electronic
detectors all around the casino,” said Patience. “I can feel the
magnetic field they give off.”

“
Really?”

“
They want to make sure
that a robot is not allowed to gamble. With a computer brain and
heightened senses, I would not be fooled by the randomizing efforts
used in gambling games. I would win.”

“
Really?”

“
Yes.”

“
Well, I guess they can’t
have that.”

Patience smiled.

After dinner, they walked through the casino
and out the front entrance of the hotel. Mike didn’t want to bother
with his car, so he had a robot valet hail a taxi for them. Once
inside, Patience directed the driver, Mike recognized him as a
Gizmo Servbot, to take them to the “finest gentleman’s club” in the
area. Mike knew that the driver would take them to whichever strip
club paid the biggest kickback to the taxi company. He wondered if
Patience knew that as well. Had they included that in her memory
banks? Had she read it in Fodor’s Guide?

A quick drive to and then down the fabulous
Las Vegas Strip brought them to the Olympic Gardens. It was a large
warehouse looking structure that had been done over with faux Greek
Columns (Doric columns, Mike noted) and ivy. In between each pair
of columns was a huge poster of some fabulously beautiful and
scantily clad female (or male!) stripper. Inside, the main room was
decorated in red satin, with dozens of tables and booths
surrounding a large main stage, which featured the required dancing
pole.

Mike and Patience sat down at a large round
booth. A waitress dressed and coifed as though she had fallen out
of a gladiator movie came and took their drink orders. It was dark
enough that Mike couldn’t tell if she was a robot or not. Though he
did not drink as a rule, he ordered a Beefeater and tonic.
Patience, of course, had bottled water. The bill came to $82.00,
not including tip. Mike was surprised to see people eating as they
watched the strippers. Such traditional ancient Greek cuisine as
hot dogs and spicy chicken fingers seemed most popular.

As they sat, the first dancer came on stage.
She was introduced by a hidden announcer as Bailey. She was young
and blonde and quite attractive. Physically, she was proportioned
about the same as Patience, but her large breasts did not have that
feeling of defying gravity that Patience’s did. She came out in a
pink mini-skirt and top, both zippered in front and in back. As she
strutted up and down the stage, she unzipped first one and then the
other. With a single flip, she removed both, allowing those huge
breasts to bounce free and revealing a tiny g-string. She grabbed
hold of the pole and began humping against it, spinning, and
gyrating. A few moments later, she finished her routine and left
the stage.

Several other dancers followed the first,
each with a similar routine. There was a red-head named Tania with
breasts so large that they actually frightened Mike a little bit.
There was a pretty and quite athletic dancer named Sugar, and a
chubby blonde stripper named Malachai, of all things. Yes, a girl
named Malachai.

It was approaching midnight by this time, but
rather than thinning out, the crowd got larger. Almost every table
was full. Mike and Patience still managed to get another drink
order from the harried waitress. Then a woman came out on stage.
She appeared to be another dancer, but instead of beginning a
routine, she put a microphone to her bright red lips and made an
announcement.

“
Ladies and gentlemen,”
Mike looked around and was moderately surprised to find that there
were indeed more than a couple of ladies present. “It’s almost time
for our Midnight Amateur Exotic Dancer Contest!”

“
Can you dance?” asked
Mike. “I mean, you know, strip?”

“
Yes, Mike.”

“
Then I definitely think
you should enter this contest.”

“
Do you think they will let
me?”

Mike grabbed the passing waitress by the arm
and asked her.

“
Sorry, no robots. All of
our dancers are real women. It says so on the sign out
front.”

“
Not even for the amateur
show?”

“
It’s a contest. It
wouldn’t be fair.”

By this time a dozen women were leaving their
seats in the audience to be ushered behind the stage. Mike finished
his drink. He and Patience didn’t wait for the show to begin. They
got up and headed for the exit, their seats filled almost as soon
as they had vacated them. Just as they reached the exit, the
announcer came back on.

“
Our first contestant
tonight is a local girl.” The crowd cheered. “Here for your
enjoyment is the very sexy Alyssa!”

Alyssa was a pretty dark-haired girl, but she
was plainly nervous. She had apparently dressed back stage in the
standard stripper attire– miniskirt, tube top, garter belts and
stockings. She stumbled more than strutted to the front of the
stage and stopped several feet before reaching the optimum
position. She swung her hips to the left and the right several
times, then with trembling hands pulled the tube top up over her
head. The crowd applauded and cheered, and this apparently gave her
a little more confidence. She grabbed hold of the pole and tossed
up her heels a few times.

“
I know you could have won
the contest,” said Mike, as he went out the front door.

“
You cannot be sure Mike,
as you have never seen me dance.”

“
Well, we should rectify
that immediately,” said Mike.

As they climbed into another cab and told the
driver to return them to the Palms, Mike noted the “Real Live
Girls! No Robots!” sign on the outside of the building.

“
Say, how come we came
here?”

“
Didn’t you want to come?”
asked Patience.

“
I guess so, but you were
the one who told the cab where to go.”

“
I told you I would know
what you wanted before you did.”

Back in the hotel room, Patience sat Mike on
the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom to change. She poked
her head out the door and in a remarkable imitation of the female
announcer at the Olympic Gardens, said. “And now, from California,
here’s Patience!” Mike applauded.

Patience strutted out as though she were
already dancing. She had on her same top and her own shoes, but she
had replaced her jeans with a black miniskirt. When she reached the
spot directly in front of Mike, she spun in a perfect five hundred
forty degree circle, so that she came to a stop facing away from
him. She then bent over at the waist and began to gyrate her
perfect ass at his face. Mike whistled. He was aroused and she was
still fully clothed. Patience danced forward and wrapped herself
around the doorway to the bathroom, using the doorjamb as a
stripper would use a pole. She twirled to the side and began to
sensually slide up and down. She threw her arms back, holding
herself off the floor with her thigh muscles alone. She slowly let
herself slide to the floor and then rose up to gyrate back and
forth across the room.

She slinked forward, and whipped off the
miniskirt so quickly that Mike didn’t see how she had removed it.
Beneath it she was wearing her own pink lace thong. With an equally
slick move, she removed her top and those magnificent breasts were
revealed. There was an audible gasp at the sight, and it took Mike
a moment to recognize it as his own. Cupping her breasts with her
hands, she tossed her head back; eyes closed, and let her hands
trail down the sides of her body, all the time rolling her hips in
a circular motion. She then raised her arms up and placed her hands
behind her head and slowly dropped to splits that a college
cheerleader would have been proud of. She tossed her hair with one
hand and with one finger of the other suggestively tugged down her
bottom lip.

“
That was amazing,” said
Mike, applauding. “I can’t believe that you belong to
me.”