Leave the details to me

I could be your virtual assistant. 

Come on…!  You know you want one.  And I’m ideal.  I’m cheap, for one thing.  And of course, I’m virtual. 

As a citizen of the 21^st century, I do almost everything on my own personal to do list in a virtual manner.  That is to say, I execute virtually everything in cyberspace; meaning I accomplish virtually nothing in actual time and space.    

And for a nominal fee, I can do the same for you. 

According to the Wall Street Journal, Personal Assistants manage all the bothersome bailiwicks that eat up the good humor of the harried.   

Virtual Assistants simply do it online!  They never meet their clients, communicating instead by email, instant message, or videoconference.  Virtual Assistants maintain an air of mystery, perhaps living continents away from their customers.  That’s perfect for me!  I can be enigmatic. 

Virtual Assistants might be students working their way through college, parents who want to work from home or older people (ahem!) who are semi-retired. 

So far, I meet all the stipulations:  I’m virtual, mature (!), and mysterious. 

Virtual Assistants work selflessly to unsnarl busy people's lives, taking on everything from scheduling their doctor's appointments and coordinating their calendars to finding them the perfect pair of pants.  Yeah, that’s me, me, me!   

I’m your invisible Man Friday.  Jeeves in the Ether.  I’m Miss Money-penny in the cloud.   

Let’s just run a test case:  Consider your hair appointments, for example.   

As an industrious person preoccupied with say, feeding the hungry, you cannot devote precious time to personal grooming.  But to your dismay, a glimpse in the mirror reveals white roots.  You rationalize that white is almost blonde and no one is likely to notice.  You consider going white.  Then your stomach growls.  Let it grow! 

Still you must soon acknowledge the sharp demarcation between one inch of white roots and your remaining yellow hair.  You consider the expense of professional coloring.  Pet your wallet.  Soothe it. 

You go to the beauty supply store and purchase the chemicals necessary to color your own hair.  Don’t forget the rubber gloves and gas mask.  Goop up.  Rinse.   

Finally, save money, if not face, with a no-appointment-necessary visit to Supercuts.  And voila!  All you need is a cheap pair of shoes to complete your nutty professor ambience. 

Please!  Let me help you with that.  It’s no biggy.  A day in the life.  I can arrange all those things for you. It’s effortless for me, therefore making me a natural for helping others.   

Of course, if you’re a no-nonsense, bottom line kind of person, just want to get the darned haircut, I can set that up for you too. 

Let’s say you’ve been putting off getting that membership at the gym.  I can do it for you.   

Ha ha ha!  I don’t mean I can procrastinate for you!  I’m pretty busy doing that for myself.  So many things not to do! 

No, I mean I can sign up at the gym for you.  Sure!  I’ll take care of all the pesky details.  Get your yoga mat and your stretchy pants.  Rent a locker and never use it.  Heck, for an added premium, I’ll even perspire some virtual sweat for you.  Say the word. 

I have a client now who says he doesn’t have time to socialize with his friends.  (OK.  I don’t really have a client.  Just run with me on this.) 

He doesn’t have time to call people, send cards, go out to lunch, you know, act like a caring human being.  So I do all that for him. 

He hands over his contact list and I hang out with his friends in virtual reality.  I ‘like’ their stuff on Facebook.  I ‘lol’ all over the place.  They think he’s the greatest, most attentive, thoughtful friend they hardly know.  Conversely, he is freed of the burden of interaction and involvement.  And I make a little dough. 

Win, win, WIN! 

Oh yeah, I’m all over this Virtual Assistant thing.   

I can charge by the hour or by the job.  Fleet rates.  Flat rates.  We can work out a payment plan so long as your genuine check is in the authentic mail.   

Otherwise I’ll have to crack your cybernetic kneecaps.

 

Dirty Deeds Done Digitally

My grandma told me it’s better to be the dump-er than the dumpee.  She was a pretty smart old broad.  She lived her life.  And while she didn’t spell out the details of her quest for love between marriages to my grandpa (that’s right; she married him twice), she did make me the gift of excellent advice when I was evaluating suitors in the meat markets of my youth. 

These days, in absence of wisdom handed from generation to generation, we have new websites and applications offering dumpees a chance to get constructive feedback from the dumpers who, well, dumped them.  Nice.  I just can’t help thinking of AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap.” 

But maybe it’s not a bad idea.  After all, 20% of new relationships now begin online.  Why not end ‘em there?  Or at least do a virtual mop up of the digital mess. 

I’m old school enough to say some things simply must be done in person.  But what if you’re the dumpee and the dumper doesn’t want to talk to you?  Or if you’re the dumper and the dumpee doesn’t want to listen?  Stepping in to fill the void of courage and good breeding is a new website: “WotWentWrong.”  

The idea with WotWentWrong is that after a first date has failed to produce a follow-up phone call, or budding love shriveled without explanation, dumpees can fill out an online questionnaire detailing what they feel they must know from the dumper – such as ‘Was it my teeth?  My nervous giggle and tic?  Did I talk too much about my gerbil?’  They submit their questions to the website which acts as an intermediary between the star-crossed ex-would-be-lovers.  The dumper responds through the site, avoiding direct contact with the person he or she unceremoniously unloaded.   

WWW even offers a schematic for the process:  Step one comprises a healthy-sounding ‘Proactively Seek Feedback’ (ask where things went wrong); and step two, ‘Be Honest but Respectful’ (give constructive feedback); and concludes with a smiling graphic step three, ‘Look to the Future,’ (develop insights and behaviors to ensure your relationship goals).  Ah!  Sweet Mystery of Life, resolved at last with three clicks of a mouse and a la di dah. 

Other sites related to state-of-the-psyche matchmaking and breaking offer the jilted not peace of mind, but revenge.  Consider CheaterVille, for example, where you can “Fight infidelity!  Post a known cheater now!”  Mug shots and unseemly tales of he-done-me-wrong provide enough degrading dirt to eliminate the need to watch “Maury” for the remainder of the decade.  

Or what about NeverLikedItAnyway, where dumpees can sell off gifts from their exes including engagement rings and wedding gowns.  Here the seller takes glee in downgrading the accoutrement of a withering romance, if not the dumper directly. 

I can’t help thinking of all the ways things could go wrong on such a site, especially with the help of a mischievous nerd with a penchant for misdirection.  Remember the cleric in “Romeo and Juliet” who never delivered the message that would have saved the day?  No?  Well he really messed things up.   

The modern day equivalent, say a hybrid of Allstate’s anarchist, “Mayhem,” and an “Anonymous” hacker, could wreak virtual chaos.  Your cheater might wind up with my cut-rate diamond ring; and we’ve facilitated a perpetrator in committing another crime of the heart!  Oh dash it all! 

Of course technology is already forging the solution to such dilemmas:  Virtual assistants; Artificial Intelligence.  The newest wave of hi-tech gadgets uses voice pattern recognition to determine how likely their users are to attend a first date before scheduling it, or how engaged a prospective Mr. Right is in the content of a conversation by analyzing his gaze and head gestures.  They can detect his mood based on his tone of voice and pacing of words. 

So, if both parties take their PDA’s to their exploratory first meeting at Peet’s, they won’t have to think at all about their prospects.  It’ll be done for them, virtually!  No muss, no fuss, no awkward actual interaction. 

In the trend to make the “human interface” even more user friendly, PDA’s should have the voice of our elders deliver the advice.  Over a latte, and from the palm of your hand, she’ll size him up and say, “Honey, you might as well throw this one back.  He’s got a drinker’s nose and he hardly held your attention anyway.” 

Thanks Grandma.