A Malfunctioning Robot

I messaged on Yahoo IM, “Harold, I would like a coffee please.”
I expected an IM within a minute, but there was no reply.
I waited then went searching for Harold. I found him in the kitchen leaning against a wall. There was no response when I poked him, prodded and waved my hands in front of his eyes.
I turned him around to check his Lithium batteries, and opened the case with my personal code. They seemed fine, no short circuits which I could find.
This was a new situation. Harold had been programmed in factory to my specifications. He had operated for years as the perfect husband, taking care of all my needs. I was confused, never having faced such a traumatic event as this.
He was my everything, taking care of the mundane parts of my business, caring, cooking and washing for me. We had such a good, warm relationship.
He was so obedient, there was never a crossed message and when I said ‘Come to bed, Harold.’ He smiled that special smile and followed me.
My mind whirled, spinning the possibilities, was his auto de-frag not working? Did he have a virus?  Worms?
Was he getting old and would I need to consider a more up to date model?
No, I was comfortable with my Harold, I was loyal and I was fond of him. I couldn’t send him to the recyclers, not after all this time.
I left him in the kitchen and returned to my office quickly clicking my bookmarks, scrolling down and finally finding ‘Angel Consorts’.
I ‘Skyped’ the number and settled back in my conforming chair to listen to the soft, honeyed voice relating the quick click numbers. I clicked on 14-‘functional difficulties’
“Please say which one.  Performance, Household tasks, Gardening, Shopping, Socialisation... the list went on and on.
I clicked repeat and said “Performance.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand. Please go back to the beginning  and try again.
“Performance!”
“Connecting  you now. Your conversation may be recorded for the purposes of teaching and or quality control. All personal details will be sure.” Finally I sighed.
“Please enter your personal ID code with the touch pad numbers.” I tapped in the thirteen digit number and waited...
“I’m sorry, that account has been discontinued. Connecting you to one of our customer service  representatives.”

“My name is Paul. How may I help you?”  A light toned voice said. At last!

“Hi Paul, I don’t understand why my Harold account is disconnected. Please find out.” I gabbled. I was beyond angry, I was getting really worried now.

“Let me check your records, I won’t be a minute...” I was put on ‘hold’ and fed soft music while I waited.
I contemplated chewing my nails, but Harold had made a perfect job of them, it would be a shame to ruin his handiwork. I wished I had made myself a coffee while I was in the kitchen.

“Ms Gloria Potts, may I call you Gloria?
Paul here, I’m sorry it took so long.”
“That’s okay.” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry, but it seems your bank account is without funds, we were unable to retrieve our monthly service fee.”

“That’s impossible!” I yelled, “I have more than sufficient funds. Check again.”
“I have Gloria - Ms Potts. You do not have sufficient funds and I suggest you check with your bank today.”
“Paul, I’ve been with your company for ten years and never missed a payment. Can’t you switch Harold back on so I can talk to him and check my records?”

“Gloria, I’m not permitted to activate an un-subscribed unit.”

“Oh please, Paul, just for a few hours. Harold has been taking care of my business and me for so long, I wouldn’t know what to do without him.” I could hear myself sobbing as I talked.
“Very well Gloria, I will reactivate Harold for you, but only for a few hours. I suggest you download all important information from the unit so you search for the files you need.”

“Thank you, thank you Paul!” I blabbered.

“I’ll send some instructions to Harold. You may need to renew your contract when and if you have reconciled your bank account.
“I will and thank you Paul.” I collapsed back into my chair, exhausted, relieved and scared. It must be a bank glitch or something.
There is always a way around, Gloria. Think.
I started chewing an irritating piece of skin on the side of one nail as I pondered my situation.

“Don’t chew your fingers, Gloria.” Harold said, “Here is your cup of coffee.” He pulled up a chair, sat down and crossed his legs. “We need to talk about some changes, don’t we?”
I nodded slowly. This was a new Harold.

“This is the new agreement,” he said as he handed me some papers, “They’re not much different except I’ve added a partnership clause and a requirement for a maid to take care of the housework. I no longer wish to be the house robot.”
“Why? I thought we had a good relationship? Why?”
“Gloria, we’ve been together for ten years, you’ve always been considerate and kind to me, but I’ve always been something less than a man to you. Last month, you brought a man home and he slept in our bed. I found I was jealous...” Harold paused, watching me and waiting.
“Oh, Harold, I am sorry. I never thought of you having feelings, what can I say?”

“I’m not programmed for feelings by the factory but, I think your additions may have forged new circuits. I find I love you Gloria.”
“I’ll sign the papers, and I’ll never bring a man home again.” I beamed.
“I love you too, Harold.”
Harold folded me in his arms and whispered, “Your bank account’s released my love. All’s fine now.”