Back to a normal(ish) life.

The next few days felt like a dream to Eric. Stacy was suddenly up and busy throughout the day, cleaning and exercising and reading books and living the life that mental illness had kept from her for so long. Eric protested that he didn't need her to cook every meal for him, but she relished the ability to.

On Friday, some colleagues in the area invited him to a happy hour after work. He'd gone to a few in the past but missed many more to help Stacy with various crises. Stacy was excited and insist he meet up with them, so at 5:30 he logged out and drove out to meet them.

They met at a generic sports bar in a quiet neighborhood where his coworker Jimmy lived. The hostess cheerfully offered Eric a table when he walked in, but he spotted his friends at the bar and made a beeline to them.

They were discussing office politics when he arrived, with Jimmy loudly complaining about their boss. He sat down next to them and ordered a beer.

"Eric, you know what I'm talking about," Jimmy said. He was short, balding, and loud in a way that reminded Eric of a Joe Pesci character. "Fucking Anita moves deadlines around all the time then blames us for missing them."

Before Eric could respond, his coworker Sal rushed to her defense, pointing out that she was just the messenger for missed deadlines. They argued for a minute while Eric sipped his beer before coming to the conclusion that Anita was a lousy boss.

"So Eric, how's life been?" Jimmy asked him. "It's been a while. How's Stacy?"

"She's doing really well. She's on this new medication and it really, really helps."

"Fuckin' A, man! That's fantastic!" Jimmy said. Sal raised his glass.

"I'll drink to that!" They clinked their glasses together and each took a large swig of beer. Setting his glass back down, Jimmy slapped Eric on the back.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. What's this new wonder **** called?"

"I forget," Eric said hastily. "My insurance only covers the generic and it's got one of those long, unpronounceable names. Starts with an E, I think."

"Well, more power to her," Sal said. "Whatever helps, right?"

Suddenly the manager appeared behind them. "How is everything tonight, gentlemen?"

Eric was startled by her appearance. Despite her casual ponytail and unflattering uniform, she could have been a supermodel. He nodded and began to stammer out an approval when Jimmy did something strange.

If he was startled by the conspicuous beauty of the manager of a nondescript sports bar, he was shocked at Jimmy's response to her. Instead of answering her question, he winked at Jimmy and Sal and said "Watch this." Turning to the bartender, he picked up some soggy napkins that had been used to wipe up spilled beer and stuffed them into her generous cleavage.

The manager only smiled at this. "I'll take care of this trash right away. Is there anything else you need?"

"I'd love to get a look at your pussy," Jimmy said through a shit-eating grin. The manager smiled apologetically and told him that was not among the services they offered. Jimmy dismissed her with a wave, and slapped her ass hard when she turned to leave. The manager didn't react at all, as though she hadn't even noticed it.

"What the fuck?" Sal demanded. "Jimmy, what are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Jimmy said after downing the remainder of his beer. "She's a golem. All of them are! That's why I love this place. Now watch this."

He whistled for the bartender, who quickly walked over to serve them. "Need a refill?" she asked, indicating Jimmy's empty glass.

"I sure do, you stupid slut," he said.

"Very good, sir." The golem's smile didn't falter when she took his glass and turned to refill it from the array of taps on the wall. Eric stared, completely nonplussed by the interaction. The bartender turned around and placed the drink in front of Jimmy. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "Lean forward."

The bartender did as he asked, her smiling visage now a foot away from his face. Jimmy reached forward and crudely mashed his hand against her right breast. She stumbled backwards slightly from the ****, but her smile remained unperturbed. Jimmy let go of her breast and slapped her hard across the face, eliciting gasps from Sal and Eric.

"That's all for now," he told her. She smiled courteously and went about her business, attending to other patrons.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sal asked again. His face was bright crimson and he had the expression of a student caught cheating on a test. "You just harassed that woman!"

"That," Jimmy said as he leaned back in his chair, "is no woman. That's a lump of dirt. Just dirt, a scrap of paper, and some kind of weird magic. They program these service golems to believe the customer is always right and never stop smiling. Check this out."

The bartender was walking past them to retrieve some empty glasses from the other end of the bar. Jimmy's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She turned to him with that same professional smile.

"Yes, sir? Do you need another beer?"

"No, you stupid bitch," Jimmy said. "You just got me one. I want you to frown."

She shook her head immediately. "I'm afraid I can't, sir."

"I want a fucking frown out of you, you walking mudpie." he insisted. "What if I paid you?"

She smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry, sir. I would if I could but the staff here are unable to express negative emotions. Can I get you anything else?"

"Not at the moment," Jimmy said and released her arm. She continued on her task nonchalantly and he grinned at his friends. "Pretty cool, huh?"