Zach woke up with a sense of giddy anticipation, barely able to wait to try out his brand-new AutoDrive electric car. Today was the day he would leave behind the sputtering engines of the past and glide into the future with silent, effortless speed. As he stepped outside, the car gleamed under the morning sun, like something out of a sci-fi movie.
“This is it,” he muttered to himself, running his hand over the smooth, silver hood.
“Finally.” He slid into the driver’s seat, savoring the feel of the premium material, and tapped the dashboard to power up the system. A soothing voice chimed in to welcome him – but then, suddenly, the screen flashed with an offer: “Upgrade to three times as many miles today for just $9,999!”
“What?” Zach frowned, dismissing the pop-up. He hit the ignition, only for the car to pause, insisting he listen to an advert for premium sound systems before the engine would start.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, tapping impatiently. Eventually, the car whirred to life, but only after the ad had finished its jingle.
“Okay, fine, I’ll deal with it,” Zach muttered, pulling out of his driveway.
As he passed the familiar Starbucks, the dashboard lit up again.
“Special deal: $3 off any large beverage today!”
“For God’s sake, can’t I just drive?” Zach hissed, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. The car responded by momentarily freezing the cruise control option he was trying to turn on until another promotional message finished.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, shaking his head. But then, as he swerved to overtake a slower vehicle, a soft ding rang through the cabin.
“Aggressive overtaking detected. You’ve received a warning email from SpeedSafe.”
“Seriously?!” Zach shouted at the car.
“You’re snitching on me now?!” His excitement was quickly dissolving, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. He hadn’t expected his fancy new car to come with this much baggage.
As Zach hit the highway, he tried to shake off the frustration.
“It’s just an adjustment,” he reasoned aloud, forcing a smile.
“I’ll get used to it.” He fiddled with the controls, looking for the cruise control button – he had paid extra for that, after all. But as his finger hovered over the screen, a warning flashed: “Cruise control unlocked after watching 30-second ad.”
Zach let out an exasperated laugh.
“I literally paid for this! I already own it!” Reluctantly, he sat through yet another commercial, this time for a new energy drink promising “limitless focus.” Finally, cruise control activated, and Zach leaned back, trying to relax. The car hummed quietly for a few blissful moments.
Then, just as he was starting to feel like he could enjoy the ride, the audio system piped up. A cheerful male voice cut in: “Hey there! Looks like you’re passing Starbucks. How about a coffee to fuel your morning? Try our new Colombian bean cold brew – just $4.99!”
Zach groaned, slapping the steering wheel. “I don’t want a coffee!” He reached to turn the sound system off, but it wouldn’t budge. It just kept blinking back at it. The promotion continued, plastered across every screen in the car, and only when the ad had finished did his music playlist return. “This is insane,” Zach muttered, already feeling the simmer of anger rising inside him.
He noticed the digital clock on the dashboard and realized he was running late. “Come on, let’s go,” he muttered under his breath, pressing harder on the accelerator. But just as he started overtaking a row of slow-moving cars, another soft *ding* echoed through the cabin. “You’ve been flagged for aggressive driving. Warning email sent to your employer.”
Zach’s jaw dropped. “What the hell? You’re ratting me out to my job now?” he barked at the car as if it could understand him. “I’m not even at work yet!” His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he imagined his boss reading an automated email about his “dangerous” driving. “This is unreal,” he muttered, his initial excitement completely crushed.
The drive only got worse. The car seemed to have a mind of its own, constantly locking features behind paywalls or pestering him with useless updates. At one point, as Zach tried to make a phone call, a message popped up: “Hands-free calling: $2.99 for 15 minutes. Confirm purchase?”
“Are you kidding me?!” Zach shouted, slamming his fist on the dashboard. “I already own this car!” His voice echoed in the cabin, and for a moment, everything was silent. Then, the car’s voice assistant chimed in with a calm, almost condescending and smug tone: “Please refrain from aggressive behavior. A report will be filed if outbursts continue.”
Zach’s eyes widened. “You’re threatening to report me again?” He smacked the steering wheel in disbelief. “This car is out of its mind!”
To make matters worse, the car’s AI heard his outburst and, without warning, pulled itself over automatically, turned off the engine, and locked the doors. Zach tugged at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Oh no,” he muttered, panic starting to rise. He tried restarting the engine, but it only stalled again, another ad popping up for a premium roadside assistance package. “I just want to drive!” Zach yelled, slamming the steering wheel.
And then it happened.
As he neared his office, the car slowed down without warning, a message flashing across the dashboard: “Monthly payment overdue. Vehicle will return to dealership.”
Zach blinked, staring in disbelief as the car made an abrupt U-turn on its own, heading back in the direction of the dealership. “No. No, no, no!” he shouted, furiously tapping the screen. But it was useless. The car was already taking him back, like a petulant child. “I have an interview! I can’t miss this!”
As the car continued its self-guided journey back to the dealership, Zach noticed the dashboard screen displaying his exact location, including a zoomed-in map of his route. “Returning to authorized dealership at 4567 Tech Plaza, AutoDrive Service Center,” it flashed in bold letters. A soft voice chimed in again, this time with a tone that was disturbingly friendly. “We’ve detected that your current home location is 1225 Maplewood Lane, approximately 23 minutes from our nearest service center.” Zach’s jaw clenched. “Wait, how do you know where I live already?” he muttered.
The screen updated again: “We’re also aware you have a scheduled destination at 305 Market Street for a job interview at 10:30 AM. Unfortunately, payment issues have prevented us from completing your trip. Your estimated time of arrival at AutoDrive Service Center is 9:45 AM. Would you like to reschedule your interview?”
Zach’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the glowing text. “How do you even know where I was going?” he barked at the console. The system replied almost gleefully: “Based on your delivery order and recent GPS activity and your calendar sync, AutoDrive has optimized your daily routes for maximum efficiency!”
Zach could hardly process what was happening. His calendar? His routes? “This is insane,” he muttered. The car, oblivious to his outrage, calmly continued its journey back to the dealership, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
As Zach sat helplessly, watching his car steer itself back toward the dealership, the sound system suddenly chimed, and a cheerful human sounding voice filled the cabin. “Hello, Zach! This is Emily from AutoDrive Customer Care. It looks like there’s an issue with your payment this month, so that is why your vehicle is being returned to the dealership for a quick check-up!” Zach blinked, bewildered. “Wait, what? I’m *in* the car! Can you not – ” Emily’s voice politely cut him off. “Oh, no worries! We understand how frustrating these situations can be. Please note, while the car is in repossession mode, you won’t be able to manually override the controls. But don’t worry! You can reinstate full access by making a payment through our app or contacting our billing department. Have a great day!”
Zach stared at the dashboard in disbelief as the call abruptly ended, leaving him stuck in a car that was no longer his, but still somehow very interested in how his day was going.
The car didn’t care. It dutifully drove itself back to the dealership, ignoring Zach’s protests. By the time they arrived, as Zach was dropped off he was fuming, and sat down on a bench outside the dealership office as the car parked itself neatly in a spot marked “Late Payments.”
Later that day, after a humiliating bus ride home, Zach was upset he missed his interview for a promising new internal role at his current place of work, since his team was dissolved last week. When he got home, to his parent’s place, he went and stared blankly at his old Vespa moped parked in the garage, dust-covered and small. “Well,” he sighed, rubbing his temples, “guess it’s time for a downgrade.”
The next few days blurred by, as Zach was forced to adjust to his new, humbler mode of transport. The Vespa had no ads, no microtransactions, no backseat snitching to his employer – just the wind in his hair and the occasional sputter of an old engine. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation, even as he zipped along at a modest 30 miles per hour, dodging potholes and praying the engine wouldn’t quit on him.
Irony then hit, when Zach saw a recent job ad online for AutoDrive. The same car company that had driven him to the brink was now hiring software developers. For a moment, he considered ignoring it. But then, a smirk curled on his lips. Maybe it was time to pay them a visit.
A week after his electric car fiasco, Zach found himself sitting at his parents’ kitchen table, squinting at the job ad for the car company’s software development team. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “Applying to the people who ruined my life.” His dad shuffled past, glancing over his shoulder.
“Look at the bright side, son,” his dad said with a chuckle. “Maybe you can teach them a thing or two about making a car that doesn’t demand your first-born child for an oil change.” Zach groaned. “It’s electric, Dad. No oil.” His dad waved a dismissive hand. “Doesn’t matter. The way they nickel-and-dime you, they’ll probably start charging for turning on the windshield wipers next.” That got a tired laugh out of Zach, and before he could talk himself out of it, he clicked “apply.”
A few days later, he got an email back: “We’re excited to invite you for an interview at our headquarters!” The irony wasn’t lost on him. He missed one interview because of the car, and now, here he was, heading to the place that had caused it all.
On the day of the interview, Zach pulled up to the company’s shiny, futuristic headquarters – on his Vespa. He parked it right between two gleaming electric SUVs that looked like they’d cost more than his parents’ house. One of them flashed its headlights, trying to scan his face for biometric access. “Sorry, buddy, I’m off the grid now,” Zach muttered, patting the Vespa’s dusty seat.
He walked into the building, greeted by a massive touch screen that blared out: “Welcome to the Future of Driving! Have you upgraded to the Gold Package yet? Enjoy our premium Wi-Fi while you drive!”
Zach rolled his eyes. Premium Wi-Fi. How long until they start charging you to breathe the air? He was ushered into a sleek meeting room where a young software developer named Jessica sat across from him. She had that slightly haunted look of someone who had seen too much code – and too many marketing meetings.
“Hi, Zach,” she said, giving him a polite smile. “Thanks for coming in. We’re really excited about your application. I see you have some solid experience in software development. What made you interested in our company?”
Zach leaned back in his chair, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. “Well, let me tell you a little story.” He spent the next ten minutes recounting his experience with their car – from the moment he tried to drive to work, to the ads, the snitching to his boss, the sudden self-repossession, and the humiliating ride back to the dealership as well as the bus ride home. Jessica’s smile faltered as the story went on, her eyes widening with each new revelation.
“And then,” Zach continued, smirking, “I realized I was late for my job interview because my car drove itself back to you guys. So, here I am. Without that brilliant feature, I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now. So… thanks?”
Jessica looked mortified. “Wait, it drove itself back to the dealership because of a late payment? We never even designed it to do that! That must have been something the sales or marketing teams added.” She shook her head. “This is insane. I mean, who approved – ” She trailed off as a notification popped up on her smartwatch: “Your job may be at risk. Consider enrolling in our Career Coaching Program for just $49.99 a month!”
Zach caught a glimpse and snorted. “Seems like the problem’s a little deeper than just the car.”
Jessica sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I… I knew things were bad, but I didn’t know they’d gotten this out of control. They’ve been rolling out all these new features with an outsourced development team without even consulting us as the core codebase team. It’s all about squeezing more money out of the customers. I’m a developer, not a car salesman!”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Ironic, right? The company that builds the future of driving can’t even get out of its own way.” He paused, giving her a sympathetic look. “You ever think about quitting?”
Jessica gave a bitter laugh. “Every day.” She stared at her screen for a moment, then looked back at Zach with a new resolve. “You know what? Maybe this is the last straw. I’m done with this place. I didn’t get into software to code pop-up ads into steering wheels.”
Zach blinked. “Wait, are you… are you quitting right now?”
She smiled, a little wild-eyed. “Yeah, why not? Life’s too short to work for a company that charges people to unlock their own sunroof.”
Just then, an alert popped up on the large monitor behind her: “Employee resignation detected. Please complete your exit survey for a chance to win a free cup of coffee!”
Zach laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair. “I guess even quitting comes with a catch.”
Jessica packed her things, her face glowing with newfound freedom. “You know, Zach, thanks for coming in today. Not for the job, but for reminding me why I got into this field in the first place. Maybe I’ll start my own company – one that builds cars without all the nonsense.”
Zach grinned. “Well, if you do, let me know. I’ll be the first to apply. And I promise I won’t charge extra for turning up on time.”
As he walked out of the building, Zach felt lighter than he had in weeks. The sun was shining, his Vespa was waiting, and for the first time in a long time, the future seemed a little less like a prison of microtransactions.
Maybe he hadn’t landed a job today, but he had something better – a reminder that not everything had to come with a price tag. He hopped onto his Vespa, revved the engine, and sped off, free from pop-up ads, corporate snitches, and paywalls for something as simple as enjoying the ride.
