“Give me back my script”
I have this one Program named “Hallo” It’s in development. My story with programming is simple. It dawned on me to start talking to computers, and I believed this wasn’t much different than talking to people. I have genuinely conversed to many people. I never really imagined I would want to speak to a machine. I met a writer he was the friend of other writers and agents driving their wives and children home late nights at the office. He worked within a large agency formed in the 70s one I will leave unnamed. He told me where to begin, in the mailroom listening to the clicker. So that’s when it clicked for me, click click. We met up on a Friday at the Library he knew everyone but you would have thought he was anyone, and he was. This man was no tourist, but he’d yell at them. He was in his fifties, and he became my friend. He would call me yelling telling me I had to become normal now. He said he would help me. This story happened two years ago. He’d tell me, “don’t talk to yourself, always pick up your phone, never assume.” Once he told me to cut my hair then he called over and over again apologizing to me, he said I had a great look and spoke well. This man decided to give me a script he had been writing for five years or so. He was screenwriter this was his best work he said. He called me yelling give me my script back, or I will call the police he was angry because I liked his script, but I couldn’t tell him much about it. When reading his script, I was lost for words, like I was in a twist. He’d say, “You aren’t Illiterate you didn’t read it, stop lying to me, give me my script back.” The script was not a script at all; it was a tool he used to teach me a lesson as he said, “I’m toying with you because I can.” He taught me a lot of cool normal things.