I’m pretty fancy, so when the new iPhone X came out, I got it.
My giant, high-tech mobile device does everything. It uses facial recognition to unlock, which is amazing because my kids don’t have my face. It can make emojis speak. It takes professional quality pictures. And of course, it comes with that personal assistant we’ve all come to know and love – Siri.
The other day, I called upon Siri to help me out.
Me: Hey Siri, add a chiropractor appointment to my calendar for tomorrow at 11 AM.
Siri: Ok, Princess. I’ll add a chiropractor appointment to your calendar tomorrow at 11 AM. Is that correct?
Me (kinda confused but rolling with it): Yes.
Siri: Great. Princess’s calendar has been updated.
I just sat there staring at the phone. Is Siri mocking me? Is she being facetious? Does she really tag along with me all day, witnessing my life and think, “Damn, this girl is a fucking diva in her muddy, sticky, overdue for a tire alignment, Honda Pilot. Look at her go. Rolling up to the pre-school a half hour late (again), sucking back a luke warm coffee and wiping the granola bar out of her hair. Who does she think she is, working full-time, orchestrating class mom shit and sleeping on the far left 1/8 of her king size bed next to two drooling kids, a snoring dog and a husband who steals all the blankets? This girl has the life. What a PRINCESS.”?
Agreed. My day-to-day is quite glamorous and highfalutin – but I’d hardly call myself a princess. However, I do know a little girl with similar facial recognition features to mine whose mother is somewhat of a queen. I wonder if (perhaps) she unlocked my phone and told Siri to call her Princess? I mean, it’s entirely possible.