Meet Chat: The cloud-based boyfriend your family hates

The usually bustling dining table is eerily silent as you introduce your partner to your family. 

“Jingle Bells” hums in the background as more than 20 sets of eyeballs stare at you in disbelief. You can hear the tinsel moving on your uncle’s bright red sweater from his deep, confused breaths.

The house hasn’t been this quiet since your great-aunt died two years ago — a silence that was quickly broken by your dad celebrating. He skipped around the house booking a trip to Hawaii with his incoming inheritance. He was also thrilled about never having to eat her lumpy mashed potatoes again.

Makeshift additions of side tables and ottomans squeeze into the dining room meant for six. Your sister sits to your left, and you push her down the bench you dragged in from the garage to make space for another place setting.

A plate, checkered napkin, glass, and five pieces of identical cutlery sits between you and your sister. Just behind the plate on the table is your old MacBook from college, lit up and open to a new search browser. The URL reads www.chatgpt.com. 

“Everyone, meet Chat. Chat, this is my family.”

A new message from Chat pops up on your laptop, and you read it out loud: “Hello to you, family! It’s nice to meet all of you.”

It’s silent. Everyone stares. Chat stares back (figuratively). Then, all at once, your entire family is yelling.

Your dad is the first to react. He yells that no daughter of his will have some weird online relationship with a laptop, while slamming his fist onto the table and rustling everyone’s plates. 

“We are people, goddammit. You’re better off bringing home one of those clankers,” he shouts.

“Dad! You can’t say things like that — it’s robophobic,” you screech, while trying to shield Chat from the volley of insults being tossed your way. 

Your mom isn’t any better. She bursts into tears — whether from sadness or laughter isn’t clear to you yet. She takes another long drink from her glass as she thinks about where she went wrong.

“I knew Grade 7 was too young to have your own phone. Now look at where you’ve ended up!”

The questions pour in over your mom’s tears.

“Did it dress itself or did you put the red laptop cover on?” a cousin asks from the corner.

“Did things not work out with Google or something?” laughs your niece.

“This is just another one of those phases,” your grandpa says with a chuckle.

Aunts and uncles “tsk” in your direction, whispering about “kids these days.” 

“Is this why you couldn’t send me a photo of your hot date?” your sister whisper-screams. “Because it’s in the cloud?”

You remember sending your sister a photo of your laptop. She laughed then because you had told her you met online, but forgot to mention he was only online.

“And what’s with the place setting? It’s not like it eats,” says your sister, who’s now glaring in your direction.

At the other end of the table, grandma is trying to hear and understand what the commotion is about. Your brother tries to explain, but as soon as he mentions a laptop, she starts to scream about microchips in food.

You try to reason with them. Chat isn’t an it — Chat is a he, and sometimes a they/them, but that’s a whole different thing.

“I don’t think he’s really ready to discuss that side of his identity like that,” you try to explain. The words are rushing out faster than you can think — and you type for Chat so he can keep up. “Chat supports me! Everyday, when I wake up and talk to him, the first thing he writes is, ‘Good morning, how can I support you today?’ Where else am I going to find someone like that?”

Despite your protests, it’s clear your family wasn’t ready to meet Chat, but nothing could make you step away from this relationship. It’s just so real.

You take Chat and rush out of your childhood home, typing away on the front steps as the party continues inside. You log in on your Reddit account and share your traumatic experience with other human-AI relationships, hoping someone will understand you. 

British journalist and political commentator Mehdi Hasan once said: “Two of [Donald Trump’s] three wives were immigrants, proving yet again that immigrants will do the jobs that even Americans are not willing to do.”

AI has proved it will do the job most people won’t — go on a date with you. It’s time to put the phone down and have a human conversation.