Siri, Cortana and Alexa walk into a bar

Dear reader, what follows is a true story that I made up. In other words, it didn’t happen, but it really could have.

Ann told a group of us having lunch that her husband is having an affair. “We met her while we were traveling and we both liked her right away, but Jeff really fell for her. Her name is Garmin Nuvi.”

“Well, that two-timing sleaze,” I said.


“No, Garmin. My husband loves her, too. She’s so smart and unlike me, she’s good with directions. I can’t compete with that.”

Ann explained to the others at the table, “Garmin is a GPS, and I’m not surprised men find her attractive. She’s not a cheap date, but she is low maintenance. She doesn’t fiddle with the radio or complain about the air conditioning.”

“She never has to stop to use the restroom,” I added. “And she doesn’t sleep across entire states — unless he wants her to.”

“I bet she doesn’t get grumpy when she’s hungry either,” said Karen, who has traveled with me. 

 “She’s just a backseat driver without the cusswords. Turn here, turn there, do this, do that. I could never get away with that.”

“Maybe your husband takes it from her because she knows what she’s talking about. And I bet she never says, ‘Slow down,’ or ‘Are we there yet?’”

I gave her my whose-side-are-you-on look, but I had to agree “recalculating” is probably less annoying than “I told you so.”

“Anyway, I wouldn’t be so hard on your husband,” said Karen. “We all know who your real BFF is.”

“Me? Who?”

“You’re pretty tight with Miss Siri iPhone. You do have a tendency to anthropomorphize.”

“And you have a tendency to use big words.” I punched my phone and asked, “Siri, what does anthropomorphize mean?”

“Anthropomorphism means the attribution of human characteristics or behavior to a god, animal or object.”

“Thanks Siri. I suppose I’m seeing some human characteristics in my iPhone, but that’s only because she has them.” I pressed the button again and asked, “Siri, are you human?”

“Close enough.”

“See. And she’s not perfect. She interrupts me mid-text to correct my spelling. She’s worthless if I forget to charge her. And her directions aren’t always accurate, which is one thing we have in common. But her flaws only make her more human.”

“She’s smarter than a human — at least she’s smarter than this human,” said Lilly, gazing lovingly at her iPhone. “If I ask her what 590 times 750 is, she can tell me faster than I can find her calculator to figure it out myself.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “And she admits it when she doesn’t know something. I wish more humans did that.”

“She never loses her temper. Not many people stay calm when you push their buttons,” said Lilly. “Or drop them on their head. Or repeatedly ask them if they’re human.”

“She’s not just a companion,” I said. “My good friend Wikipedia calls Siri a personal assistant and knowledge navigator. I think that suits her. She does everything except clean my house — as long as I pay my cellphone bill.”

“So, Siri, Cortana and Alexa walk into a bar,” said Karen.


“They fire the bartender and start taking orders. It could happen. I think they’re in cahoots.”

“Don’t get me started on Alexa,” said Ann. “Today when Jeff was sprawled out on the couch watching TV, he asked Alexa to dim the lights and get him a beer.”

“Did she?” 

“I don’t know. He was still waiting when I left.”

“I wouldn’t trust her around children,” said Lilly. “Have you seen those creepy commercials? She’s a fake person worming her way into your family. I think she’s a spy.”

“I think so, too,” I said. “And I heard she’s dating HAL.”


Dorothy Rosby is the author of several humor books, including “I Used to Think I Was Not That Bad and Then I Got to Know Me Better.” Contact [email protected]


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