peak to a human!” I shouted at my phone. “I’m sorry, I know you want to talk to a human,” the UPS Bot dismissed me, “but first I need your …” “Z2519996757,” I growled. It was our tracking number. I still know it. I still scream it sometimes waking in a cold sweat. “SPEAK…TO…A…HUUUMAN!” my partner, Phillip, and I yelled repeatedly, during those daily calls to UPS. We screamed it in front of libraries, sleeping children, cemeteries, even. But it didn’t matter how loud we were. The UPS Bot didn’t care that we had trusted
