Help! I Just Clicked Gmail’s Automated Responses and Now I am On a Deserted Island in Fiji for Having Accrued Too Much Debt

“Thank you! You, too!”

“What was that?”

“Oh, okay.”

“That sounds great!”

“That also sounds great!”

“That doesn’t sound as good.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long. And wouldn’t it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong?”

“What do you mean these ‘lyrics’ are taken? I just published it as an original poem.”

“No, I thought of them independently! I’ve never even met a Beach Man before.”

“OK, well it seems like they should be Men by now.”

“No, I would not like a lawyer at this time.”

“Actually, I would like one immediately. A female lawyer is fine. I am a male feminist.”

“The legal prep is going well. I’m picking up good vibrations. She’s giving me excitations.”

“Of course I did not mean that sexually. I read bell hooks once, and it was good.”

“Hold on, those are also lyrics?”

“Maybe I’m a musical prodigy.”

“THEY want to meet ME?”

“Oh, well can I ask for their autographs in court?”

“Yes, fine, I will flee the country until you figure this out.”

“One way sounds fine, I’ll book when I get there.”

“Quick question: where exactly is Fiji and how many islands does it have? Is there Wi-Fi?”

“My lawyer, lost at sea?? Good luck, fish!”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make light of it.”

“Yes, I can make the memorial service next week.”

“Bring the body?”

“Please resend longitude and latitude.”

“Weak signal, but sailed to neighboring island. Will loop you in soon.”

“Boat sailed away. Cell tower was mirage. Turned out to be a tree.”

“Lost the case? Lost the lawyer too.”

“Sand tastes terrible.”

“It’s been one week on the island.”

“Sand is tasting better now.”

“Week seventy: my only dreams are about the island. Life before it means nothing.”

“I’ve been so bored that I started writing music. No lyrics though, don’t worry. Wanna listen?”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. The MELODY?”

“No, of course I didn’t! Has anyone ever surfed the U.S.A.? That’s not even possible with all the land!”

“So far I have to pay for the funeral, a new lawyer, the court fees, and now three songs?”

“Okay, ha-ha, you created an email address for my landlord.”

“So far I have to pay for the funeral, a new lawyer, the court fees, three songs, and RENT????”

“Week one-hundred forty: I’m married to Philip. We had been dating on and off for a few months. At first, I thought I wouldn’t get into anything serious, but as time went on, our relationship solidified. He is my soul. He is my purpose. He is my rock. He is a coconut. He fell out of a tree and landed directly onto me, forever changing my life and permanently damaging my left knee. I am devastated to report that he is cheating on me. The last thing I wanted was to be clingy, but while I was working through my trust issues, he found solace in Elizabeth, another coconut, who is not in debt because, again, she is a coconut. The nights are sad, dry, and lonely, and the days are exactly the same, but drier. I keep running into Philip and Elizabeth rolling around together and it wrecks my heart. My only respite from this hell are the moments that I spend looking after mine and Philip’s son. Yes, I am a mother — a good mother at that. My boy used to be part of the boat that brought me here. I think we’ll be alright, Danny and I. We’ll have to be.”

“Thank you! You, too!”