Bobby paced back and forth in his living room, his nerves getting the best of him. His reflection in the mirror revealed a man desperately trying to maintain composure, but the beads of sweat forming on his forehead told a different story.

Marla, his best friend, sat lazily on the couch, her feet up on the coffee table, scrolling through her phone without care. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” she said, not looking up from her screen.

Bobby tugged at his tie for the umpteenth time. “I just want to make a good impression, okay? This is my first blind date in forever.”

Marla snorted, finally setting her phone down. “And you think that tie is going to help? You look like a game show host.”

Bobby glared at her. “What’s wrong with my tie? It’s classic. It says, ‘I’m serious, but not too serious.’”

“It says, ‘I’m about to sell you a used car,’” Marla quipped, smirking.

Bobby’s best friend, Frankie, barged in at that moment, his hair an untamable mess after a day of skateboarding. “Whoa, Bobby, you look like you’re about to interview for a job as a lawyer’s assistant or something.”

Bobby sighed. “Great, more fashion advice from the guy who still thinks hoodies are formal wear.”

Frankie shrugged. “Hey, they’re versatile.”

Marla chimed in again, “Seriously though, Bobby. Relax. You’re overthinking it. If this Emily girl doesn’t like you for who you are, then forget her. Besides, it’s not like you’re going in alone.”

Bobby looked confused. “I’m not?”

“Nope,” Marla replied with a mischievous grin. “Frankie and I are coming too, for moral support.”

“Wait, what?” Bobby blinked, taken aback.

“Oh, come on. We’re just going to be at the next table,” Frankie said, clapping Bobby on the back. “We’ll blend in. You won’t even know we’re there.”

Bobby shook his head, but deep down, he felt a small sense of relief. Having Marla and Frankie nearby wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“Besides,” Marla continued, “if you want to impress her, why don’t you show off one of your inventions? Women love a guy with brains.”

Bobby’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea! I’ve been working on something. It’s not fully tested yet, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, ‘not fully tested’ doesn’t sound reassuring.”

Bobby ignored the warning, a spark of excitement replacing his nervousness. “Meet the Waiter 3000,” he announced, gesturing toward his latest creation—a sleek, shiny robot that was programmed to take orders and serve food at the touch of a button.

Marla groaned. “Oh boy, here we go.”

The trendy restaurant was buzzing with energy. It had just the right mix of cool ambiance and cozy charm, the perfect place for a first date—or a potential disaster, depending on how things went.

Bobby arrived first, anxiously adjusting the settings on the Waiter 3000, which he had set up beside their table. The robot gleamed under the dim lights, its mechanical arms perfectly poised to serve drinks and food. Bobby glanced around nervously, hoping Emily would find the robot impressive rather than weird.

Marla and Frankie, true to their word, were seated at the next table, half-hidden behind menus. Well, Frankie was trying to hide behind the menu. Marla, on the other hand, made no such effort, her eyes sparkling with anticipation of the chaos that might unfold.

“This is going to be good,” she whispered to Frankie. “I give it ten minutes before something goes wrong.”

Frankie chuckled. “You’re being generous.”

Just then, Bobby spotted Emily entering the restaurant. His breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful—more than he had imagined, with a radiant smile and an air of confidence that made him even more self-conscious about his tie.

“Hi, Bobby!” she greeted warmly, her smile immediately putting him at ease.

“H-Hey, Emily! Wow, you look great,” Bobby stammered, his nerves resurfacing.

“Thanks! You look nice too,” she replied, eyeing his tie but choosing not to comment on it.

“Uh, this is going to sound strange, but I brought something… unique to help make the evening more fun,” Bobby said, gesturing toward the Waiter 3000.

Emily tilted her head, intrigued. “What is it?”

“This,” Bobby said, puffing out his chest with pride, “is the Waiter 3000. It’s a fully automated, voice-command robot that will serve our food and drinks. I built it myself!”

Emily’s eyes widened, and a smile played on her lips. “That’s cool! I’ve never been on a date with a robot before.”

Bobby exhaled in relief. Maybe this was going to go better than he thought.

Marla and Frankie, meanwhile, exchanged amused glances from their table.

“I give it five minutes now,” Marla whispered.

The dinner started smoothly enough. Bobby, feeling more confident with Emily’s positive reaction, activated the Waiter 3000.

“Waiter 3000, bring us the menu!” Bobby commanded.

The robot whirred to life, its mechanical arms extending to the nearby menu stand. With impressive precision, it picked up two menus and brought them to the table.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Emily said, looking at Bobby with newfound admiration.

Bobby beamed. “See? It’s pretty cool, right?”

“Okay, that’s working,” Frankie muttered, genuinely surprised.

Marla shrugged. “Give it time.”

They all ordered their drinks, and Bobby, eager to show off his creation’s full capabilities, activated the robot again. “Waiter 3000, serve the drinks.”

The robot responded, “Initiating drink service,” and began moving toward the bar area.

But something went wrong. Instead of stopping at the bar to pick up their drinks, Waiter 3000 zoomed right past it and careened toward a nearby table, nearly knocking over a vase of flowers.

“Oh no…” Bobby muttered, his eyes widening.

The robot’s mechanical arm extended, grabbing a drink that wasn’t theirs and attempting to serve it to a bewildered older couple at the next table.

“Excuse me, sir, but that’s my drink!” the elderly man protested as the robot deposited the glass in front of him.

Bobby jumped up from his seat, rushing over. “Waiter 3000, stop! Come back here!”

But instead of listening, the robot turned around and grabbed the older woman’s salad, carrying it toward another table where a family of four sat.

“Mommy, look!” one of the kids exclaimed. “The robot stole their salad!”

The mother looked horrified while the father laughed. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day.”

Emily covered her mouth, stifling a laugh, while Marla and Frankie were beside themselves.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Marla whispered to Frankie.

Bobby flustered, managed to wrestle the salad away from the robot and returned it to its rightful owners, apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry! There’s a small glitch. It won’t happen again, I swear,” Bobby said, trying to salvage the situation.

Emily was giggling, clearly entertained. “Don’t worry, Bobby. This is hilarious.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Bobby muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured the evening going.”

Frankie leaned in from the next table, giving a thumbs-up. “Hey, man, she’s laughing. That’s a win.”

Bobby shot him a look that could melt ice. “Not helping, Frankie.”

Bobby tried to regain control of the situation, sitting back down with Emily, who was still chuckling. “So, uh, let’s try this again,” he said, clearing his throat. “Waiter 3000, bring us our drinks—from the bar this time.”

The robot whirred to life once more, and for a moment, everything seemed to be working as it should. It approached the bar, picked up their drinks with its mechanical arms, and headed back toward their table.

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. “See? All good now.”

But as the robot reached their table, it suddenly jerked forward, as if hitting an invisible obstacle. In a split second, one of its arms malfunctioned, and instead of gracefully placing the drinks on the table, it flung them into the air.

Soda, juice, and water splattered everywhere. Bobby, Emily, Marla, and Frankie were all caught in the crossfire, drenched from head to toe.

There was a collective gasp in the restaurant, followed by the sound of laughter from nearly every table.

Bobby sat there, wide-eyed and frozen, while Emily burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my God! That was… that was amazing!” she said between fits of giggles, wiping soda from her face.

Bobby, now dripping wet, could only stare at her, wondering how she could find this funny.

Marla was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “I knew it! I knew this was going to happen!”

Frankie, his face wet with juice, shook his head in disbelief. “Bobby, I gotta hand it to you, man. This is legendary.”

Bobby groaned, sinking lower into his chair. “This is the worst date ever.”

Emily, still giggling, reached across the table and touched his arm. “Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve had on a date in ages. Who else gets to say they were served by a malfunctioning robot?”

Bobby blinked, surprised. “You… you think that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her smile genuine. “I mean, sure, it’s a disaster, but it’s a funny one. I’m having a great time.”

Bobby felt a wave of relief wash over him. Maybe this date wasn’t a total catastrophe after all.

With the Waiter 3000 now officially out of commission, Bobby decided to take a more traditional approach for the rest of the evening. He flagged down a human waiter to bring them some towels and their food, and the group spent the rest of the meal drying off and laughing about the chaos that had unfolded.

“So,” Emily said, leaning in with a mischievous smile, “I’ve gotta ask. Is this what all your dates are like? Because if so, I’m definitely in for another one.”

Bobby chuckled, feeling his confidence return. “Only the special ones. But I promise, next time, no robots.”

“Next time?” Emily raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re assuming there will be a next time?”

Bobby blushed. “Well, I mean, if you want… I’d love to.”

Emily grinned. “I think I’d like that.”

Frankie, still overhearing from the next table, muttered, “Well, look at that, the guy pulls off a miracle.”

Marla wiped her eyes, still laughing from earlier. “I have to admit, Bobby, I didn’t think you’d recover from that robot fiasco. But here you are, getting a second date.”

As the evening came to a close, Bobby and Emily exchanged numbers, and the group left the restaurant, soaked but in high spirits.

“So, what did we learn tonight?” Marla asked, teasing Bobby as they walked out.

“That maybe robots aren’t the best wingmen,” Bobby replied, grinning.

“And,” Frankie added, “that sometimes the best dates are the ones that go wrong.”

Bobby laughed, feeling grateful for his friends and the unexpected success of the night. Maybe the Waiter 3000 wasn’t a total failure after all. At least, not when it came to giving him and Emily something to bond over.

As they parted ways, Bobby felt lighter, more confident, and ready for whatever came next—whether it was a second date with Emily or another crazy invention waiting to go haywire.