"I beg your pardon," I said.
The keys clacked, and the carriage moved, and I watched more words
appear on the paper.
_CAN'T YOU READ, IDIOT?_
"Of course I can read!" I protested.
_THEN WHY DID YOU BEG MY PARDON?_
I put my nose close to the keys and studied them. Then I looked around
the room suspiciously. I was alone.
"This is absurd," I said. "Who ever heard of a typewriter...."
_WHAT'S ABSURD?_
I pointed my finger sharply at the machine. "And if you're so smart,
why are you all in upper case? Suppose you tell me that!"
_BECAUSE YOU LEFT THE SHIFT KEY LOCKED. IF YOU'D SIMPLY_--
I stabbed out with my finger at the shift release, and the carriage
dropped abruptly.
_unlock the shift ... ok, there, thats much better._
"You left out an apostrophe," I said meekly.
_did i, well i cant very well shift of my own accord, you know. im
afraid this will have to do._
I sat back and smiled, watching the machine as the words appeared. I
kept smiling even after the carriage stopped moving.
_whats so funny._
"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Nothing, really. I was just...." I spread my hand
helplessly. "... just smiling."
_it would be just my luck to get another idiot. as if the shopkeeper
wasn't bad enough._
"I think I like you better upper case," I said.
_do you._
"Yes. That way, at least, you've got the apostrophes and question
marks. I find it difficult to follow you this way."
_i imagine youd find it difficult to follow me any way. but shift
again, if you must._
"Thank you." I stabbed out at the shift key, and locked it in place.
_DON'T THANK ME. I'M JUST TRYING TO ESTABLISH SOME SORT OF RAPPORT
BETWEEN US._
"Well, I certainly do appreciate your efforts. You are real, aren't
you? I mean, it's not the salami or anything."
_NO, IT'S NOT THE SALAMI OR ANYTHING. GOD, YOU ARE AN IDIOT, AREN'T
YOU?_
I shrugged. "Not really. I'm not quite used to holding conversations
with typewriters, though. I usually ... well, that is to say
typewriters haven't usually answered me back."
_ARE YOU A WRITER?_
"Well, yes. Odd you should have guessed, isn't it?"
_THEN LET'S START WRITING. I'VE GOT SOME WONDERFUL IDEAS._
I smiled happily. "Well, all right. Let's. Do you want me to do the
actual typing?"
_OF COURSE. HOW ELSE WOULD I SHIFT?_
"That's right. I hadn't thought of it. Well, are you ready?"
_QUITE._
"Good. I've got a lot of ideas, too." I hunched over the machine,
beginning to enjoy this immensely now. I suddenly remembered that the
paper already had writing on it, so I put in a clean sheet and said.
"Let's see now, where should I begin?" I thought for a few moments, and
then leaned over eagerly. I knew just what I wanted to type. It began
with: _The day was crisp and clear, with the promise_....
I poised my fingers over the keys and smiled happily. Still smiling, I
started to type.
_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,_
_Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore_--
"Oh!" I exclaimed. I stopped typing abruptly.
_what is it now. and please lock the shift._
"Sorry," I mumbled. I locked the shift key.
_WELL, WHAT IS IT?_
"Nothing. Except I ... I don't write poetry."
_WHAT DO YOU WRITE?_
"Fiction. Yes, fiction."
_OH, ALL RIGHT. PUT A CLEAN SHEET INTO ME AND WE'LL START ALL OVER
AGAIN._
* * * * *
I put in a new sheet of paper, poised my fingers over the keys, and
said, "Here we go now. Fiction."