📝 Travel Twerps

Farrah stood on the corner of Seattle's historic 1st Avenue and Pine with an electronic parakeet perched on her shoulder.

"What are today's travel expectations?" the realistic-looking bird asked.

"A book tour," Farrah answered. Feeling a wave sarcastic goofiness, she added, "Add a little vacation romance, too. Thanks in advance for making the impossible happen, Twerp."

"You'd like me to find bookstores that sell romance novels?" Twerp questioned.

"Negative."

"Clarify the travel experiences you'd like me to locate for you."

"I want to visit famous book and movie locations. You know? Fifty Shades of Grey. After. Twilight."

Twerp rolled his plastic eyeballs.

"I saw that," Farrah muttered.

"Hold on for a moment while I search my database for possible options to make your personalized travel dreams come true." Twerp became motionless on Farrah's shoulder. A flashing blue light blinked in his eyes while he searched a vast collection of online resources.

Farrah chuckled. She tapped the blue and white parakeet gently on his head with her forefinger. "Good bird."

After a minute or two, Twerp's jerky machine movements sprung back to life. "There's more options if we include Sleepless in Seattle on our tour. Would you consider substituting Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan for After's Hessa?"

"Uh--nope! I want Hessa, not Mom."

"Pardon? Your mom was not an option."

"I was trying to ship Meg and Tom."

Twerp shook his head. Even a machine recognized Farrah's lame shipping attempt.

"Leave me alone," Farrah snapped, allowing herself to be humiliated by a robot. "I'm not good at shipping. What else did you find?"

"Grey is Gray is Grey, amirite?" Twerp flapped his animatronic wings.

"Christian Grey?"

"No. Doctor Derek Shepherd. I believe the Grey's Anatomy stops might be more entertaining than Shady Grey destinations."

"Definitely not the same, Twerp. I want McShady, not McDreamy." After a slight pause, Farrah mumbled softly, "But it's not as if McDreamy would be totally out of the question."

Without warning, Twerp bobbed and flapped his wings excitedly. Several long and screeching twirp-twirp-twirps exploded from his beak.

"Stop," Farrah hissed, embarrassed by the looks strangers tossed her. "You're programmed to only make that sound if we're being attached or something."

The sophisticated tour guide's internal fan came on to cool his computer chip and wires.

"What was that all about?" Farrah questioned.

"Would you consider a trip to see Bruce Lee's grave?" the parakeet asked. "Bruce Lee instead of sparkly vampires? Please? It's Bruce f**king Lee!"

Before Farrah had time to scold him, Twerp sat up straight. His head spun around in full circles on his shoulders. "Incoming--."

"Your rating is getting switched to PG when we get home," Farrah muttered after apologizing to a woman covering her child's ears.

When Twerp's head stopped spinning, he faced Farrah and whispered in her ear. "Walk towards Seattle's Gum Wall. Don't ask questions."

"You mean the alley where thousands of people have discarded their nasty gum on the wall to create a germ-infested trip to the E.R.?"

"It's art--and I said don't ask questions."

"It's a germaphobe's worst nightmare. Not happening."

Twerp unloaded a few more screeching twirp-twirp-twirps.

"Stop!" Farrah demanded.

"I can't stop until you walk towards the wall."

Farrah exhaled and walked towards the gum wall, disappointed by the fact she was letting an electronic parakeet tell her what to do. Digging through her purse, she pulled out hand sanitizer. "Fine. But this isn't the Seattle dream tour I was hoping for."

"Trust me." Twerp lifted a wing and tapped the top of Farrah's ear. "You'll get your Seattle dream tour. It's what I'm programmed to do."

"You realize McDreamy doesn't actually work in a Seattle hospital, right?"

Twerp bobbed in place making a chirping-chuckle sound.

A couple minutes later, Farrah stood at the opening of Post Alley where the Gum Wall was located. "I hate you, Twerp."

Twerp responded with another episode of screeching twirp-twirp-twirps.

Farrah watched in mortified humiliation as tourists in Post Alley parted like the Red Sea, revealing a man at the other end of the alley with his own Travel-Twerp perched on his shoulder. His electronic parakeet was making screeching sounds exactly like Twerp.

"Walk towards him," Twerp instructed. "It will make the noise stop."

Both Farrah and the man at the other end of the alley slowly walked towards one another--onlookers gawking at the commotion. When the man and Farrah got within a conversation distance of each other, the Travel-Twerps went silent--as did the audience of tourists.

Farrah laughed in an attempt to disrupt the awkwardness. "Now I know where the phrase kill two birds with one stone came from."

"Tell me about it," the man said, his face blushing.

"Your temperature has increased significantly," the man's bird said. "You're either sick or in lust."

"Power off, Twerpie," he muttered. Turning to Farrah, he said, "Let me apologize for--."

"Your heart rate is through the roof, Farrah," Twerp interrupted. "You either have heart problems or you're in lust, too."

"Power off, Twerp!" Farrah mouthed voiceless apologies to the handsome stranger, her body nervously twisting.

Twerp and Twerpie remained quiet as their owners struggled to regain composure in the awkward silence. Eventually, the man pushed a few words over his lips. "Can I take you to dinner to apologize--for this?"

Farrah blushed. Her giggles nearly prevented her from responding. "I'd like that." She held out her hand. "I'm Farrah."

"I'm Rahul."

The two strangers with love birds on their shoulders held 'handshake hands' for what seemed like an eternity. They clearly were in need of one more love-nudge.

"Get a room," Twerp said in a sultry tone.

"I hear the Marriott has nice rooms," Twerpie suggested.

"Power off, Twerpie," Rahul demanded. Twerpie closed her eyes and powered down.

Farrah turned towards Twerp and whispered, "I've got it from here, Twerp. Best. City tour. EVER!" Then without a command, Twerp closed his eyes and powered himself off.