Tyler has two fans asking him for advice. He’s in the habit of writing raunchy fantasies. The advice he types sends his fans off on wild behavior, giving him a vicarious thrill. He’s treating real people like characters in his naughty books, with impunity. Layers of security protect Tyler’s personal life from everything…except instant karma. There’s a spooky cause and effect relationship between what he tells his fans to do and what his wife does. He should treat them like real people. Every time he types, he’s the kinky author, treating them like fantasy fodder. He’s rapidly changing the lives of real people caught in his web of crappy advice. Divine justice is swooping down on him, in the form of instant karma. Those real lives he’s changing include his wife, and yet he can’t stop himself as he types.
(Ding.) “Dear StoryServer21, my husband and I have a bedroom fantasy about me kissing my boss. I’m thinking of taking it to the next step. I’d like to come home and tell him I did it, that I kissed my boss. Do you think he’d understand? Or do you think he’d feel betrayed that I did it in real life?”
“It depends on how intense your fantasies are with him. If he’s been enjoying them as much as you have, then he’d probably dig it. Since it’s just a kiss, I’d say go ahead and see if your boss is into it too. It’s just a kiss. People do that at office parties under the mistletoe. No harm, no foul.” (Send.)
(Ding.) “You’re right. It’s like mistletoe. No harm, no foul. I’ve gotta run, hon. Chat later.”
I’ve just encouraged a woman to cheat on her husband, well not in a big way, but still in an emotional way. How would I feel if Sarah came home from work and told me she kissed her boss?
(Ding.) I’m called away from my mental tailspin to read the screen. I wonder what she wants. Did it all go so terribly wrong? No, it’s from Widower43. “Dear StoryServer. I think my secretary might be attracted to me.”
“Good for you. Mazel Tov. I wish you two every happiness.” (Send.)
(Ding.) “Her husband might not share in your celebration. For many people, fantasy is just that, merely fantasy.”
“Are you saying they have fantasies about you?” (Send.)
(Ding.) “It’s not that unusual. Before my wife died, we had an active fantasy life too. The paper boy must have felt the way she looked at him.”
“You could try a small experiment. It’s not even my idea. Another fan came up with it. Just a simple kiss, like at an office party, under the mistletoe. If she kisses you back, her husband is either on board or irrelevant. If she kisses you against her husband’s will, their marriage is over anyway. There must be some form of consent in these things.” (Send.)
I know what I did wrong, and it’s too late. I’ve already sent it. I’m making decisions about these other people’s lives like they’re just characters in my books. All the blood leaves my face. Instant Karma is real. I’m scared.
(Ding.) “OK. You’re right. If I get the chance, I’ll kiss her. You’re pretty wise about these things. I won’t even pry about how you’ve learned so much.”
Wow. Like lambs to the slaughter, I’ve sent these strangers of the workforce into other people’s arms. I sure hope they know what they’re doing. When I typed up the kiss story, it was supposed to be fantasy, fiction for a thrill, not to end marriages. I hope my advice won’t end marriages.