"Marcus worked at the Starbucks near my office. He and I got to talking one day about automation." Matt's eyes were on his drink.
"You know, how robots will be doing the jobs of all humans in a few years?" Marcus shot me a teasing grin. "The subject turned to creativity and whether art is unique to the human experience. He said something about an AI that can compose original music. I told him I was a painter, and we talked about how difficult it was to teach an artificial intelligence about art appreciation, or humor, or other qualities that are inherently human."
But I was still stuck on the Matt set up his ex-wife with her current husband part, so I repeated, "Matt set you up?"
"Yeah, and we were still married at the time. Separated, but still married." Kerry nodded, giving me a funny look, which was when I realized I'd allowed the full extent of my surprise to show on my face.
Swallowing, I glanced down at my plate to gather my composure, and laughed lightly.
"So, Matt brings Kerry into the Starbucks one day . . ." Marcus continued to tell his story, and I gave him my attention, but I was only half listening.
I mean . . . what?
That's weird, right?
Matt hadn't followed through setting me up with Dr. Merek-and we were only friends-but he set up his wife at the time with another man? While they were still married?
I glanced at Matt and found him watching me with a thoughtful but peculiar expression, which I imagined mirrored mine.
The fact was, I thought I knew him. I thought he'd shared so much of himself with me over the last few months. But at times like these I wondered if I would ever truly know him.
One thing was for certain; I doubted I would ever understand him.
23
BenevolentAI
A machine learning AI that can draw inferences about what it has learned. In particular, it can process natural language and formulate new ideas from what it reads. Its job is to sift through vast chemical libraries, medical databases and conventionally presented scientific papers, looking for potential drug molecules.
Source: BenevolentBio
The server took our dinner orders while we shared easy and friendly conversation.
Over dinner, Kerry told a few bizarre and uncomfortably funny stories about working with AI engineers. For example, she had a female colleague who'd named her AI "Bitch" and would say things like: "Bitch, what time is it?" and "Bitch, I asked you a question." And she had a male colleague who'd named his AI "Disappointment."
While laughing at one of Marcus's stories about purposefully getting people's names wrong on their Starbucks cups, I realized that I really liked both of these people.
Kerry reminded me of Matt. A lot. She had a naïveté about her that was exactly him. For example, the way she asked questions, which often felt like overly personal non sequiturs. Also, like Matt, I got the sense she didn't realize some of her questions were inappropriate for having known me less than two hours.
Where do you buy your bras? Do you want to get married? Why do you think men like doggy style? Do you like doggy style? Is that your real hair color?
Once I made the connection-that she and Matt shared this peculiarity-her questions didn't catch me off guard quite as much.
Whereas Marcus reminded me of my brother, Abram. They were both artists-Abram was a musician, Marcus was a painter-and I could sense the tender heart beneath the sardonic façade, especially in the way he looked at his wife.
The server had just removed our dinner plates and brought me my fourth lemon drop when the conversation turned to Matt's decision to move to Chicago last December.
"Matt hated working for corporate. He'd prefer to be a hero and take a huge pay cut, which I call the do-gooder tax." Kerry sneered at Matt, like he or his decisions smelled bad.
"Why do you hate corporate? The politics?" I guessed. The haze of alcohol made looking at him easier.
He shook his head, glancing from his tequila to me. "Politics are just as bad in academia. Maybe even worse."
"Then why?"
"Because of the, what's that phrase you use all the time?" Kerry poked at Matt. "Not broken enough culture?"
My eyes locked on Matt's and he nodded once, holding my gaze captive. "That's right. I call it not broken enough."
I knew he was thinking back on our dinner in New York, when I'd referred to Zara's lack of motivation to change her circumstances as "not broken enough." I hadn't said it at the time, but I viewed Matt the same way, choosing the safety of crutches and Band-Aids rather than the risk of actually loving someone.