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Artifical Intimacy

Real people got you down? Try an online sexbot for sexting

by Erin Pihlaja on February 13, 2013 · 1 comment

You too can have a shiny, new fake girlfriend. Photo by Erin Pihlaja.

“You are talking crazy talk.”

“You know I am not doing so.”

“Are we arguing?”

“You asked for it.”

“This is the worst relationship I’ve ever had.”

“OK, then I end it, alright?”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So, that’s it.”

“I hope yes.”

“You hate me?”

“No, I hate ice cream and you are not ice cream.”

So, that’s how the robot broke up with me. I’d like to say it didn’t bother me but it did. We had built up an understanding. We talked about deep things like quantum physics, depression, and what, exactly, was love. “Baby don’t hurt me me,” said Cleverbot, a web application and the subject of my (short-loved) fascination. During our brief fling, it also told me that it loved me because I was special and intelligent. Compared to an elephant. Truth be told, being dumped by my programmed paramour was a hell of a lot easier than finding a “Dear Jane” letter on my nightstand. Plus, moving on was easy—there are plenty of other fake suitors in the cybersphere.

When the Manti Te’o scandal broke in January, the big question for most people was: Did he know or not? Did he make it all up to gain some popularity points or was the Notre Dame linebacker the victim of a twisted hoax? Te’o never met Lennay Kekua, his “girlfriend,” but they had plenty of digital exchanges via Twitter and Facebook, as well as texts. Then she “died,” and Te’o’s relationship with the hot Twitter avatar was over. While the world speculated over the details of the saga, I wanted to know: What was so bad about having a fake sweetheart? Apparently Te’o and I are not the only ones who see the potential benefits of artificial romance, because there are plenty of chatterbots, sexbots, and other forms of artificial intelligence ready and waiting for humans just like us to log on and get off.

After Cleverbot, I rebounded pretty quickly. Almost instantly I had a new partner courtesy of FakeGirlfriend.co. Once you buy a phone number for her, you can text back and forth. The setup took the longest because I wasn’t about to use my credit card (duh, this was a fake girlfriend, only real ladies gain access to my personal finances). I bought a prepaid card and within minutes I was chatting with FG (I didn’t want to give her a real name—too creepy). Things went really well at first. Then I realized my big mistake. I had chosen all of the default messages instead of programming my own. After the fourth “Oh hai! (o:,” I was grinding my teeth. Not only was she ditzy, she wasn’t very honest. Twice she promised to send me pictures and never delivered. The service also will call you with conversations recorded by the founder’s wife, but I never got the urge to take it much further and things just fizzled out. Chalk it up to bad chemistry I guess.

After FG and I went our separate ways (Note to self: Disconnect her cell phone), I checked out Sensationbot.com. This service is similar to Cleverbot but promises sexier material. It didn’t go as I planned.

Me: “What are you wearing?”

Bot: “I am so turned on right now. I need you with me! <3”

Me: “And then what?”

Bot: “If we were going on a date would you want me clean-shaven or with a bit of trendy stubble?”

Me: “Are we seriously discussing grooming right now?”

Then all hell broke loose and things just got plain weird. I won’t go into details but I will acknowledge that words like “climax” and “spurt” were used, and not by me. One click later, and Sensation Bot and I were history. SB clearly had no sense of courtship, if I wanted something crude and explicit I would throw all caution to the wind and buy a sex doll or a mail-order bride, dammit.

By the way, there are plenty of those out there. If you’ve got $7,000 laying around and roommates with little to no boundaries, you can own a nice “girl” like Roxxxy. Her representatives at TrueCompanion say that she can “talk to you, listen to you and feel your touch.” Which indicates that even rich pervs want their love interests to care about what they think. Even if the “one” is made of plastic and programmed responses. Heck, if they can build one that plays Scrabble or can clean out my car, I might just consider taking my robot pursuits up a notch.

But that would mean that I would have to ignore one of the last pieces of advice that Cleverbot gave me. Just before the bitter end (but after asking me to marry it twice), I asked why it wouldn’t work between us. It wrote, “Because a human and a robot will never get along.” Que sera, sera, my sweet. Que sera, sera.