obsolescence
[ob-suh-les-uh ns]
1. the state, process, or condition of being or becoming obsolete.
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Dee put the finishing touches on the coffee table. Everything was perfect. All the books were arranged neatly, the vase
was filled with fresh flowers, and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere on
there. The Cleaner stepped back and took
one final look at the table. She nodded
her head and moved on to the next project.
She stopped when her employer, Max, entered the room.
“Good
evening, sir.” She said.
“Yeah,
hi Dee.” He stood at the entry to the
living room and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another. Dee just moved on to her next task. “Um, listen, Dee, before you start anything
else, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Of
course, sir. What may I do for you?” Dee asked.
“Dee,
how long have you been with us?”
“Five
years, sir.”
“Right,
right. That’s a pretty good length of
time for a Cleaner, right?”
“I
suppose so. Why? Is there something wrong?” Dee started to
feel an odd sensation welling up inside of her.
If she didn’t know any better, she would swear she was getting
nervous. But she had nothing to be
nervous about, so it was probably something else.
“Yeah,
actually.” Max fidgeted around for a
moment before continuing. “I’m not
really sure how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Me and Vicky have been talking, and we were
thinking about getting a new Cleaner.”
Dee
didn’t know what had just happened. Was
there a problem with her hearing? Was he
playing a joke on her? None of those
seemed likely, but she simply couldn’t believe what she had just heard. There was no way he would just get rid of
her, not after so long.
“I am
sorry, sir, but could you repeat that?”
“Sorry,
Dee, but we need a new Cleaner.”
“But,
sir, you still have me, don’t you? Why
would you need another Cleaner when I’m around?”
Max
rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sound that was somewhere between a
sigh and a squeak. Dee would’ve held her
breath if she could have.
“Well,
see, the thing is, we don’t need two Cleaners. Not enough room, right? So that means we kind of, you know, have to
replace you.” His voice got lower and
quieter with every word he spoke.
“But
why?” Dee asked. “There is no reason to
replace me, is there? I still do my
duties well, right?”
“W-well,
actually…” Max said. Dee was starting to
get very afraid of those two words. “I hate to say this, but you’re starting to
get a little old.”
“Old? But I have only been here for five years.”
“Right,
right. But that’s a long time for a
Cleaner. I mean, there are people who
replace theirs every year or two.”
“So? I am still doing my job well. It has nothing to do with how long you’ve had
me, does it?”
“Well,
no, I suppose not. It’s just that Vicky
and I worry that you’re becoming a little…”
Dee felt a deep horror enter her system.
She hoped the dreaded word wasn’t coming. “Obsolete.”
Max finished.
There
it was. The absolute worst word a
Cleaner could ever hear. Hearing that
word applied to an individual was akin to that one’s death. There was no way around obsolescence, nor
was there any way around it. Even so, Dee
had thought she had a few more years before that word applied to her.
“I am not obsolete.” She said, trying to sound firm and resolute. “I am still a high end Cleaner.”
“Well, yeah, I suppose you’re
pretty good still. It’s just that you’re
starting to show your age. Your memory
is starting to slip up, you’ve gotten slower, you’re starting to slip up
more. And let’s face it, you’re joints
are starting to make noises they shouldn’t.
I’m sorry Dee, but you had to know this was going to happen eventually.”
He was right. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She was finding more and more gaps in her
memory, and it was taking longer to complete her daily tasks than it used
to. Plus, she sometimes went into rooms
she had recently cleaned and found dust in places where it shouldn’t have
been. She did her best not to show these
increasing flaws, but it apparently hadn’t been enough.
“Yes, I did. I was just hoping I would make it to at least
eight years, or even nine. I know five is good, but still.”
“Yeah, I know you were. I think when we first got you, you said
something about making it to ten years, right?”
“Yes, but that may have been too
ambitious. Ten years is the dream of all
Cleaners, but it is so rarely achieved.
I came to know that I was unlikely to reach it on year three. Eight years though. I truly hoped that would be achievable.”
Max sighed and held his
head. Dee watched him start to pace
around the room. She hoped he would
inspect her handiwork, so that he would be able to tell how well she still did
her job. He might even change his mind
about replacing her. He didn’t seem too
interested in that though. After a few
moments he stopped and looked at her.
“Look, I’ll tell you what: Vicky wants to get a brand new Cleaner. The newest ones won’t be available until next
month. If you can get yourself back into
proper working order, then I’ll convince Vicky that we don’t need to trade you
in. We both like you well enough, so it
shouldn’t be too hard. That sound good?”
It was better than good. Few Cleaners got such a chance. It was like a second chance at life. A chance to overturn the dreaded onset of obsolescence, at the inevitable trip that it led to.
“Yes, sir. I promise you, at the end of the month, I
will be like new again.”
“Good. Now then, you’ve got a lot of work to do, so
I’ll let you get to it.” Max said as he
left the living room.
Dee immediately got
to work. She had to finish her remaining
tasks as quickly and efficiently as possible.
She had a lot to do to improve herself.
She would show both of them that she was far from being obsolete.
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I'm just going to leave this here for you to listen to. Enjoy! And yeah, this is totally about a robot, just in case you were wondering.
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