The End of an Era: A Brief Encounter with a Cheerleader on the Last Day of School (Bing Chatbot Reinterprets a Scene from ‘Reunion’ in the Style of Jennifer Egan)

Third in a Series of Reimagined Versions of a Scene from Reunion: A Story

For my last post for this Throwback Thursday of April 13, 2023, I present to you another version of the “Jim Meets the Hot Cheerleader” scene I shared this afternoon. This time, though, I asked Microsoft’s OpenAI (aka Bing chatbot) to rewrite this scene (which was part of the beginning of the original story I started writing way back in 1987 when I was 24 and still in college if you can dig it) in the style of Jennifer Egan (A Visit from the Goon Squad, Manhattan Beach).

Ann smiled once more. She looked beautiful. I lingered for a moment, still thinking how strange it was to see the leader of the cheerleaders in jeans and a plaid blouse. She was very attractive.

OpenAI, writing in the voice of Jennifer Egan, “Reunion: A Story”

The End of an Era: A Brief Encounter with a Cheerleader on the Last Day of School

By OpenAI (in the style of Jennifer Egan), based on Reunion, by Alex Diaz-Granados

I handed the yearbook to Ann Saroyan, the cheerleader (ex-cheerleader now) who had asked me to sign it. I had scribbled something lame: To Ann Saroyan: It was a pleasure sharing English with you this year. You made it fun! Best, Jim. I closed the yearbook and gave it to her with a fake smile.

Ann Saroyan – she looked different in normal clothes; I only knew her in her cheerleader uniform – smiled genuinely. Her hazel eyes shone with anticipation. “Thanks, Jim,” she said. She gave me my yearbook. She had written: Hope to see you again someday. Love, Ann Saroyan, Class of ’83.

“Thank you,” I said after reading her note and closing my yearbook. “Really.”

Ann smiled once more. She looked beautiful. I lingered for a moment, still thinking how strange it was to see the leader of the cheerleaders in jeans and a plaid blouse. She was very attractive. She moved closer and kissed me softly on the cheek. “Goodbye, Jim,” she said quietly. Then she looked at the clock on the wall, gathered her things and walked out of the classroom, maybe to find more yearbook friends.

I watched her leave, and after scanning the nearly empty classroom – Mrs. DeVargas, my English 4 instructor, had left earlier to get some caffeine so she could finish grading dozens of final exams in the privacy of the English Department office – I grabbed my backpack, stuffed my yearbook inside, and walked out into the corridor.