Every few years I learn of another neurodevelopmental disorder that I very most likely have. It all started when I was six or seven when I was diagnosed with ADHD, though back then it was just called ADD. I had trouble with concentration, and my teachers were always getting after me for day dreaming. Due to my parents being poor, they couldn't afford to put me on stimulants. This resulted in a series of C's, D's, and F's all the way from grade school until I dropped out of high school when I turned 18. This of course led me to only being able to work minimum wage jobs, thus continuing the cycle of being poor.
I was also labeled from a young age as being ‘shy’. My parents never had to warn me not to talk to strangers, because that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. When the home phone would ring, my dad would occasionally try to get me to answer, but I always refused. This was always really frustrating for him. To this day, I pretend like I'm not home when someone comes to the door. After a while, the term ‘introvert’ was assigned to me. However, some time in my early twenties, I realized I was in fact an extrovert. Well, ‘that doesn't add up,’ I can hear you say. Some time in my late teens, I saw an ad for a prescription drug for a disorder called social anxiety. The way they described the disorder fit me perfectly to a T. Now how does one get by as a socially anxious extrovert? One doesn't. It's a fucking nightmare. I'm afraid of the one thing I want most out of life, social connection.
As you might be able to guess, this leads to a lifetime of anxiety and depression. Two more disorders I can add to the list. More drugs I have to get from the doctor for those short periods of time when I have health insurance. In my mid to late thirties I learned that I might actually be autistic, which is where my social anxiety stems from.
On top of all that, my family has a history of multiple other issues. My father's side has bipolar disorder, my mother's side has OCD, and I think I have a great grand parent who was considered straight up crazy. Now keep in mind, this was way back in the day before the words ‘crazy’ and ‘insane’ were taken out of the medical lexicon. So take that with a grain of salt. I haven't been officially diagnosed with OCD, BD, or Autism, but I show strong symptoms of all three.
Now for learning disabilities. I strongly suspect I have dyscalculia, since I've always struggled with math, and I have a tendency to switch numbers around in my head. Recently I was reading a story I wrote when I was fourteen, and it looked like it was written by a ten year old. I did some research and found Dysgraphia: Impacts handwriting, spelling, and written expression. Messy writing? Check. Terrible spelling? Double check. Difficulty with getting my thoughts out onto paper? Do I really need a diagnosis? It's always been weird having good hearing while still not being able to understand anything anybody ever says to me. Oh what's that, there's something called Auditory Processing disorder?
Knowing all that, I think it stands to reason why I would jump on the chance to get an implant that would improve my cognitive abilities. Oh, but I'm poor, how would I ever be able to afford something like that? First of all, that technology doesn't exist, at least it's not being mass produced. It's still in very early trials. The thing about trials is, they pay you. The next part is both a plus side while also being extremely scary. It's possible for this kind of technology to not only fail, but it could make you worse than you were before. It could create phantom pain, it can mess with your nervous system, or might even just kill you. What all this means is, beaucoup bucks.
Considering all this, you need to keep in mind that there are some things worse than death.
There was a rumor going around that they started offering cybernetic implants on the black market. I laughed it off when I first heard this. I figured it was just a viral marketing campaign for the Cyberpunk game. Yes, I know the game was a few years old at this point. I lose track of time often. Up until recently I thought the PS4 was the newest generation. It just sounded so silly. I know AI has been making leaps and bounds, but it's not the same as the AI in science fiction. However, I would absolutely argue that we live in a dystopia, so maybe it is time for the cybernetic revolution.
One day I was hanging out with my friend Paul in LA, and he parked in Westlake.
“Where are we going?” I asked
“You'll see.”
He seemed giddy, and that made me nervous. Usually when he's like this, he's about to pull a prank, or tell a really bad joke. I followed him into Macarthur Park.
“Remember when Greg bought a fake ID?” he asked.
“Yeah, and he put the wrong year, so he couldn't even use it for six months.” I laughed
“Yeah that one.”
“Wait, I don't like where this is going.” I started getting nervous real quick.
He began walking up to a shady looking guy who was selling what I think was bootleg porn.
“Woah dude, hold up.” I started panicking
“Nah, you're going to love this.”
“No, please stop.”
He walked right up to the guy and started talking with his voice lowering to a hush. I kept my distance.
“Hey my man, you know where we can get…”
What the fuck is he doing?
“Yeah, follow me.”
Paul looked back at me, big fucking smile on his face, and waved for me to follow. He had the look of someone who just successfully landed a prank. I had to have been visually upset.
“Fuckin, what the fuck?”
I followed against my better judgment. The dude led us into a pretty normal looking strip mall, and took us into the stairwell. My anxiety was rising higher as we were passing into a zone that was closed off to the public. The upper level of the strip mall was mostly uninhabited by businesses. We went into one of the shops that was actually occupied. Right before we entered, Paul turned to me and squealed with excitement.
“Can you believe it?” He asked through his teeth.
“Believe what?” I almost screamed in a hushed voice. My face had to have been beet red with anger.
“You'll see!”
The shop was empty except for a man sitting at a desk that looked expensive. It looked like the kind of desk that you would see in an executive’s office on the top floor of a high rise. The windows were covered in plastic, wooden joists were visible through the ceiling, the cement floor was exposed, and the walls were crumbling. The man was smoking a cigar.
“Yo Marley, these cats are interested in the implants.”
Paul looked at me, and I widened my eyes at him.
“Fantastic! Why don't you boys take a seat?” Marley proclaimed.
The porn dealer was gone before I even noticed he was leaving. We went over and sat at the desk across from Marley.
“So, you boys are interested in cybernetic implants?” Marley asked with a grin on his face.
“So it's real?” Paul asked back.
“Oh, as real as can be!”
“So I can get like a robot arm?”
Marley laughed with his whole belly.
“You've been watching too much science fiction, kid. No, we only have the NeuralChip.”
“Like the Elon Musk thing?”
“Sure, why not, though our product actually works.”
“So like, it turns you into a super human?”
He laughed out loud once again.
“I like ya kid, we need people like you working here. No, it just improves your cognitive abilities.”
“Oh.”
Paul sounded disappointed. However, I reacted subtly, and Marley picked up on it. He continued talking to both of us, but all his attention was on me, even if he didn't make it obvious. He opened a drawer on his desk, pulled out two pieces of paper, and slapped them on the desk, one in front of each of us. I swiped mine up instantly, while Paul casually raised it up to look at. It was a description of all the services the chip offered, which included improving a whole crap load of cognitive disorders and disabilities.
“You can fine tune it, only work on the stuff that you struggle with.”
Paul stood up and handed back the flyer.
“Eh, I don't know if we'd be able to afford something like this.”
Marley hardly even paid him any attention. He plucked the flyer out of my hands so that I can see his face. He studied my reaction for a moment. After this, he was only talking to me.
“Insurance pays for the surgery, and you get paid for testing it after that.” He said as he slid a business card across the desk.
I picked up the card half heartedly. “I don't have insurance.” I said while looking at it. It contained nothing but a phone number.
“Money problems?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, well that's even better, we can get you a hardship grant.”
I stayed quiet for a moment while staring at the card.
“Come on Drew, let's go.”
“Yes, go home and think it over.” Marley said with a smile.
I stood up to walk away.
“Drew.” Marley said as I followed Paul out.
I looked back at him.
“The money is good.”
I gave a half smile and walked out of the room.
“Oh my god, I can't believe it's real.” Paul said while laughing.
I didn't respond, I just kept my eyes on the card I was holding.
“Wait, you're not actually considering it are you?”
I fake laughed “Nah, that shit is super sketchy.”
I waved my hand over a trash can we walked by as if to throw it away, and then slipped it into my back pocket.
Paul and I spent the rest of the day cruising around LA and finishing the night with beers at his place. After Paul passed out, I called an Uber and went home. I was still pretty drunk and not quite ready for bed, so I pulled out my phone and started cycling through all the dating apps. Still no matches.
“What's wrong with me?”
I don't know why I ask this, I've always known what's wrong with me. I have no social skills. The only reason I ever have friends is because I get adopted by extroverts, and even that is pretty rare. They're also all assholes. Why are my friends always assholes? I didn't know it at the time, but I really needed to look inward for that answer.
After wallowing in self pity for a while, I figured it was time for bed. When I took my pants off, I folded them over my arm and the business card fell out. I threw the pants into the hamper, bent over, and picked up the card. I hate talking on the phone, it gives me major anxiety, but I was drunk, and thus had no social qualms at the moment. I wasn't even expecting anybody to answer, it was a quarter past two in the morning. However, there were only two rings.
“Name?”
“Oh, uh, Drew.”
“Drew?” He paused like he was waiting for something.
“Oh [REDACTED], Andrew [REDACTED].”
“Thank you.” He hung up right after.
What the hell?
My phone buzzed, I looked to see that I got a text.
“Appt. for Andrew [REDACTED], please select a date and time.”
I clicked the link they provided. It was a calendar with blocks of time that I could select.
I wasn't planning on actually making an appointment, I was just kind of hoping to chat someone up for more information. Hell, I didn't even think anybody was going to pick up. You know what, fuck it. I'll put Friday at half past three in the afternoon. Another text came in.
“Appt. confirmation for Andrew [REDACTED] on Friday at 3:30pm.
Arrive at the provided address 15 min early or not at all.
Cancel earlier than 24 hours before your appt. to avoid $100 cancellation fee.”
I've got to stop making plans when I'm drunk, especially when I'm almost blacked out.
I completely forgot about it until I got a text on Thursday.
“Appt. reminder for Andrew [REDACTED] tomorrow at 3:30pm.
Remember to arrive 15 min. early, or not at all.
Cancel earlier than 24 hours before your appt. to avoid $100 cancellation fee”
What the fuck? Appointment for what? Oh shit, oh fuck. Oh no. I can't believe I did this.
I immediately called the number back.
“Name?”
“Andrew [REDACTED]”
“I see that you have an appointment tomorrow at three thirty.”
“Yes, I need to cancel the appointment.”
“No problem, would you like to use your card on file for the cancellation fee?”
I looked at my watch.
Shit.
“Wait, you don't have a card on file for me do you?”
“Visa, last four digits ****?”
How do they?
I paused for a moment.
“I can go ahead and charge the card now.”
“No no, I'll be there.”
“Oh, marvelous, see ya then.” She hung up.
I am? God damn it. I guess I'm doing this?
The address was downtown. I made sure to arrive extra early, parking was going to be a nightmare. After I parked I made the long walk to the building, and didn't even know what I was looking for. There was a bank, a restaurant, and a bakery. I looked at the address again.
“Unit X”
I walked around the building into the alley. There was a door with a security gate. I couldn't see a unit number. However, after a moment I noticed the metal bars on the gate created an X. I clicked the button on the intercom.
“Name?”
“Andrew [REDACTED].”
There was a buzzing sound and I was able to open the gate. I walked down a hallway into a waiting room. The receptionist was sitting behind an open window. She had large square rimmed glasses with a fancy eyeglass chain that had little flowers all across it.
“Hi, My na..”
She pushed a sign-in sheet across the surface towards me.
“Three fifteen on the dot, pushing your luck there Mr. [REDACTED]” the receptionist said without looking away from her computer while she typed away.
I saw my name printed next to three thirty. There wasn't a single other appointment booked that day. I signed next to my name.
Right as I finished, a clipboard full of paper work was pushed towards me.
“You've got fifteen minutes to have all this filled out.”
I took a seat among the twenty empty chairs. The packet seemed huge. There were all kinds of different forms to fill out and sign. First up was the contract. I should have read that. Next was the NDA. Hi Reddit! Next was a series of wavers. Should have read all those. After that was the form I needed to fill out to prove that my annual pay falls under the threshold to qualify for a hardship grant. Then the direct deposit info. Last, but not least, was the patient info. First was just some general stuff: name, birthday, pronouns, etc.
“Excuse me miss, do I really need to put my social security number?”
“The chip doubles as an ID” she responded, still typing away looking at her monitor.
“I didn't bring my card.”
“Oh no, I hope you have it memorized then.” She said sarcastically.
Then there were some odd ones: favorite color, movie you hate most, famous musician you would bring back from the dead. List of enemies and acquaintances.
“Sorry to bother you again, but I don't see anywhere to put friends, am I missing it?”
That's when she finally looked away from her monitor, stopped typing and looked directly at me.
“Is that a serious question?”
Ouch.
She looked back at her monitor and continued typing.
“Times ticking Mr. [REDACTED].”
After all the weird questions, I finally got to the section I was hoping was going to come up. The questionnaire so that I can tailor the chip to my liking.
“Andrew, we're ready for you.”
“One moment.”
The typing stopped and I can just feel her glaring at me.
“Never mind, I'm ready.”
I just made a few last notes as I was walking up.
“Do you guys really need so much personal information?”
“We just want to make sure we don't accidently alter something that fundamentally makes you, well you.” She was not typing, her hand now reaching out to grab the clipboard. I handed it over.
What the fuck does that mean.
“Wait!” I said as she was pulling away the clipboard.
“Don't push it Mr. [REDACTED].”
“That's my pen.” I say sheepishly
She pushes the clipboard back towards me so I can take my pen off the top of it, with a big fake ‘fuck you’ smile. I hear a buzz to my right.
“You can head on in.”
I go through the door, there's no nurse to show me where to go. It's just a long hallway. At the end is a single room. It's not an operating room or anything, it's just an exam room. I show myself in and sit on the exam table. Not a second later a nurse walks in through a door that I didn't even notice.
“Hello Mr. [REDACTED].” She immediately starts putting a tourniquet on my arm. “What are we in for today?”
“Well, I uh.”
“I'm just kidding.”
She pushed a button on an intercom on the wall.
“Has Mr. [REDACTED] signed the waivers?”
A voice returned through the intercom.
“All wavers signed.”
“Copy that.”
She then very quickly pulled a syringe out of her pocket and injected me in the arm.
“Okay sweetie, I'm going to need you to count backwards from ten.”
“Wait.”
She ripped off the tourniquet and that's where my memory stops.
I woke up the next day at the hospital. My memory of the previous day hadn't returned to me yet. I was told that I had suffered a serious head injury, and that they were going to keep me for several days to monitor me. I had no idea what happened, I was genuinely freaking out because I thought the injury caused memory loss. After just a few days they told me I was healing very quickly, and that it didn't seem like I had suffered any brain damage. I can't tell you how relieved I was. When I inquired about my bill, I was informed that it was already taken care of.
I continued to take bed rest at home for another week. My employers were more than happy to give me the medical leave.
The first change I noticed was my memory. I've always struggled with memory. Long term, and short term. All of a sudden, I wasn't looking for words anymore. I just always knew the exact words I wanted to use. I was beginning to remember very small details throughout the day. Finally, I remembered getting the chip implant. It felt like a fake memory at first, like it was something I saw on TV, or a movie, but I finally realized that it was something I personally experienced.
The first check deposited into my account. I quit my job right after seeing the number.
The next change I noticed was that I wasn't struggling with daily chores. I was brushing my teeth twice a day, and showering on a regular basis. I cleaned my apartment and kept it clean. I also stopped going on tangents all the time when talking to people. Oh yeah, I was talking to people. I was actually going out and talking to people. I would pay close attention to their movements and started learning how to read body language. I started making meaningful friendships for the first time in my life. I got a girlfriend. I actually got a fucking girlfriend.
I decided to go back to school and get my GED. After that I enrolled in a community College and set up a plan to get into a university. I was even getting straight A's. I was on track to actually getting into a decent university. Though after some time I found the process to be too slow. I started studying in my own time. I was reading entire novels. I was reading scientific papers. I was watching university lectures on physics. I didn't find mathematics so boring any more.
All my ticks disappeared, and I didn't develop new ones. I wasn't so compulsive anymore. I looked at everything from a critical thinking standpoint. I was no longer attracted to conspiracy theories.
I eventually found my friends to be beneath me. I moved on to making friends in academics. I found my girlfriend boring. I found it harder and harder to date after that. It's like no one could stimulate me intellectually any more. I began using dating apps strictly for sleeping around.
It was after I started writing novels and getting book deals when the largest and scariest change of all came about.
One day I woke up and I couldn't feel pain any more. That was one of my fears. The chip was messing with my nervous system. I mean, it could be worse, it could have caused me to feel nothing but pain day in and day out. It wasn't just pain though, I had no physical sensation at all. Naturally I stopped using the dating apps.
That only meant that I had to get my stimulation through intellectual pursuits. So I kept studying, kept learning, kept pushing the boundaries of my mind. I would seek out academic peers. However, that didn't prove to be too difficult. It almost seemed like I was surrounded by others like me. There were physicists, mathematicians, novelists, painters, sculptors, all at the top of their field.
I was offered a job based on my skills. It was based around answering questions for strangers online. It sounded really fun at first. Educating people is something I really enjoy doing. However, it wasn't fun at all. Most questions were really stupid. Who was in what movie, or what would happen if I lit a fart on fire. Every now and then I get something good like, what are the themes that run through Lovecraft's work and how can they be applied to today's story's, or how can the universe be a hologram? In the end, it will always come back to, who is this celebrity dating, or why does my cat hate me?
To keep myself from going crazy, I would just write novels in my spare time. When my employers found out about that, they started buying the rights from me. Eventually no one wanted to do the question answering job anymore, since they can just sell their works. Now we have to all spend a portion of our day answering those questions, save for the artists, but they have to do something equally as demeaning. They have to take a certain amount of requests, and the majority of those requests are abysmal. What would Guy Fieri look like if he was Asian, or combine Star Wars and Star Trek into one property.
Eventually I was asked if I was interested in writing screenplays. Sure, why not, I love movies, but then it turned out I had to write what they wanted. Write a modern day retelling of The Goonies, or Friday The 13th part whatever it is on now. I still write novels in my free time. I'll also write my original screenplays, but they never want to buy those.
I finally realized that I haven't felt hunger since I stopped feeling pain. I haven't eaten any food in months, and yet I persist. They tell us that they're working on an update so that we can feel sensation again. I'm not expecting it anytime soon.
I'm sure I'm just a copy of the original Drew, he's still out there, or at least he was. I don't know what they did to him. If they removed his chip so that he lost his abilities, or if they got rid of him. My assumption is the latter.
Obviously we have to have access to the internet to do our jobs, while extremely limited, but they didn't account for me teaching myself how to hack. So here I am on the world wide web to tell you all, don't get the implant.