Cyber Kittens and Cowboys Ipam (reading a book txt) 📖

date withPamela….this evening. He pushes, forcefully chair from table.

Arthur barks, loudly. “Still on that call,boss.”

“Call?” Preston tilts, angularly black skull& talks, meekly while standing and studying Arthur.

“Phone near your neck, boss.” Arthur points,rudely at object then chuckles, lightly as he returns to dessert.He thinks, mentally Preston would like that one chasing her down inthe hallway for a date.

Preston eye burns cell then pockets it intojacket & sits, quietly devouring the Key Lime Pie with twohands like wild monkey in South America.

“Who called ya, boss?” Larry inquires,nosy.

“Geneva.” Preston lies, honestly whilethinking of Pamela.

Time: 6:28 pm. Preston’s house.Nighttime.

Knock! Knock! Preston curses, strongly &stomps, nosily to back door wiping exceed aftershave from handsonto jeans. He almost escapes from that kid-neighbor sellingcandles, zines, or colored toilet paper this month for schoolfundraising events. He jerks, roughly door handle & reveals,surprisingly smiling face.

“Pamela!?”

“Hi, Preston. I brought…” Pamela holds,vertically white paper bags in air. “Thai food.” She steps, boldlyonto polished wooden floor & moves, swiftly around tall &stunned Preston into black and white cozy clean kitchen. “Thairestaurant off of Five Points South. I got sesame chicken. I likethis best along with sticky rice, white rice, garlic shrimp, spicychicken, Chaing Mai noodles, stir fired beef with Panang curryand…” She holds, vertically wrapped brown rectangular items.“….eggrolls.” She grins, toothy.

“Pamela!?”

“Explanation, yes, you deserve anyexplanation, Preston. I’ve a very good one.” She pauses,dramatically then sighs & breathes, heavily. “I don’t break therules.” She roller balls eyes into cranium then she holds arms withintersected finger pads like folded prayer in the air & talks,bravely. “I like my job. I need my job. I’ve been there only oneyear…so I want to be there many, many years.” She thinks, mentallythen continues, boldly. “I probably…well most likely know lots ofstuff about you, personally than you will or can ever know aboutme. You work with secretive Geneva.” Preston nods, once. “Well, shedoesn’t particular like me, or maybe she don’t like anyone…human,that is.” Preston chuckles, lightly. “But, I’m new and stilllearning under her direction. I like you, really like you, Preston.I’m pleased as fruit punch that you asked me to dinner, tonight.I…I want to go to dinner with you, tonight. But, at the same time,Geneva makes it very clear that our…me…my position…there…at work istop secret. I know about Ilenn and Arthur. Ilenn blabs all the timebut only with Lacy and I. Secondly, Ilenn is very good at her joband has been there for two or so years or something like that. Ireally don’t know my co-workers via Geneva’s orders. But, I like myjob and my co-workers. So, I respect the rules. Are you mad at me,Preston? I hope not…and you smell great.” Pamela stops, suddenlytalking and stands, soldierly waiting for her verbal executionwhile smelling vanilla, citrus & spicy aftershave which ignitesher engines.

Preston blinks, once eyelids close then open& expresses, softly. “Pamela.” He pauses, dramatically thensighs & breathes, deeply. “You’re most direct with yourexplanation and absolutely correct with your interpretation ofGeneva.” Pamela nods, once. “I…I am not mad. I’m stunned andsurprised but not upset. I’m thrilled you’re here and broughtfood.” Preston eye burns bags then to Pamela. “How? Where are mymanners? Let’s eat and talk, okay?” He shifts around her body tocabinets, pulling plates and cups onto counter.

“Okay, Preston. Thanks for understanding me.Over to the table, is that okay?” Pamela trucks food bags anddishes to new destination.

“I understand Geneva.” Preston talks, boldlythen chuckles, lightly. He carries two tall goblets & pulls,slowly cool white wine from refrigerator as she lays out plates andutensils. Pamela dumps, generously portions of different foodentrees over plates. She sits, quietly watching Preston open thewine.

“How did you find me?” He inquires,mysteriously.

“Your social network platform with yourtouchy/feely people, photos, pages of friendly relationships. Doyou date all those girls?” Preston shakes, sideways black skull.Pamela giggles, lightly then talks, bravely. “Shared personalcontent and tags of your skull, neck and beyond the stacked abs.”She giggles, lightly. “Now, I see why you have 5,987 friendlies,Preston.”

“Fringe benefit from FBI for my cover storyof smooth jock scouting Cyber bullies or goodies on the Internet.”Pamela chuckles, lightly. “You wear your employer on your T-shirtaround the office. Is that a requirement?”

“For fun? How do you know my personal homeaddress, that’s not on my…personal social network?”

“Yeah, right or the telephone electronicbook, either because of your job I suspect, correctly. So, insideyour…personal social network, I connected some loose net variablesthrough a couple of logic root paths of one particular variable andtraced user’s model using one of 12 view dissecting thecreation…”

“You hacked me. You hacked my social network.That’s illegal, Pamela, totally off the chart.”

“Not really, I investigate suspicious FBIactivities all the time without permission and with totallyauthority from Uncles Sam and Ms. Lassater.”

“I thought you didn’t break the rules.”

“I didn’t. I wanted your home address so Icould surprise you with supper. And my devious planworked…perfectly.” Pamela grins, wickedly.

Preston laughs, hardy. “You did at that. Isthis your secretive job, spying on foes or friends or both?”

“Javelin is the UI framework on the popularsocial web page.”

Preston understands bot techno language. “Ah!It was known for busting through data and algorithms includingmultiple synchronized POVs and used by the military in the earlygovernment Star Wars project.”

“You’re a programmer, degreed?” Pamelainquires.

“That’s top secret, so why don’t you findout, tomorrow?”

“I shall after I’ve dumped some cybercriminals into your shunt.”

“Tell me about yourself.” Preston asks,sweetly.

“Can’t do that, Tex?” Pamela stops, chewing,smirks, lightly, answers, swiftly.

“I’m slow but intelligent. I can honestlycomment that I know nothing about you, Pamela. Can you feed me onetiny little datum?”

“No.”

“I know your name, Pamela Craft. Do you havea middle name?”

“No.”

“That’s not a national secret, your unknownmiddle name. Is it weird something like Tiger or Cricket? Ya gotthose slanted eye things like you’re maybe Asia heritage.” Pamelagiggles, heavily.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s normal like I’mnormal…American.”

“We can discuss your heritage. Are you AsianAmerican, you’re eyelids give it away.”

“No, Preston.”

“You’re Asian American, on your