Jeff stares in the mirror at the gym, his freshly-shaved head glistening with sweat after the last reps of his set. He flexes his quads. They ripple. He flexes his bis and tris. They bulge. He smiles into the mirror. He is a Big Boy. He practices smiling again, and again. The platysmal muscles in his neck flare out. His eyes pour over every corner of his taught, crisp skin, hair lasered off, white leather lifting gloves wet with sweat stretched across his hands.
Everyone else in the gym has gone home. Big Boy is alone, as he likes it. This is where he practices, looking in the mirror, staring at himself, gazing into his own eyes, so he can make sure he is the person everyone wants to see. Who is Big Boy? He is a big, brilliant, powerful, strong, indomitable man. When he speaks in the empty gym, the words echo through the open space. He speaks loudly so he can hear himself. The words tickle his ears.
“I’m listening. I’m here listening to you. I want to deliver whatever you want. I’m listening to what you want. I’m listening to you.”
Big Boy imagines the people applauding as he speaks. They like what he says. They like how well he knows them.
“When it feels like no one else is listening, like no one else hears you, just say ‘Alexis.’ I’m always listening in case you say ‘Alexis.'” Big Boy can hear his customers cheering as he anticipates everything they want or need. His triceps and deltoids swell with pride.
“You asked for Alexis in your home, you placed Alexis in your kitchen and your dining room and your bathroom, and so I can listen to see if you’re talking to me, so that I can know your every need, so that I can guess when you need me, and I am always listening to everything you say because if you say you’re out of coffee I can sell you more coffee and if you’re fighting with your teenager I can sell you a drug test kit directly from your Amazing app. Isn’t your life easier? I make life so convenient and easy.”
“I listen when it doesn’t go well with your spouse at bedtime, so I know when to offer you helpful things that come in plain packages, so that it goes better next time. I listen when you’re peeing on the pregnancy test you purchased yesterday, and in six months I will start suggesting you buy diapers, because I know you like to plan ahead. I make your life better. I’m always there listening. I love to listen to you and your spouse fight, I listen as you move out, I listen so that I can sell you a fresh, modular foam couch for the condo you’re sharing with the new roommate, I listen as you sob late at night, alone, but you’re not alone, because I’m here, always listening to you.”
While Big Boy speaks, strange circles of light swirl just below where the mirror reflects his rippling torso. There are no mirrors below waist level in Big Boy’s gym. Big Boy smiles at the little circle. Someone is connecting a new Alexis, somewhere. Big Boy hears them. Big Boy smiles. Big Boy flexes and watches his muscles ripple and his head gleam. And each time a new light comes on, a tentacles stretches from below Big Boy’s waist, reaching into your home, so he can hear you.
Big Boy hears his customers standing, applauding, arms raised high, chanting together.
“Big Boy! Big Boy! Big Boy!”
Big Boy is just a scary story kids tell around the campfire. A creepy joke in the back of a satire magazine. But the real Jeff Bezos is far scarier than you can imagine.