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You’re no person. You’re a machine. My atm, you dispense My cash at My request. I say any little number and My ATM sends it. It’s not about Me being a bitch to you as much as the dehumanization you’re seeking. Ignored. Used. Doing what feels good. The escape of the burden of being a person by being My cash bot. I get what I want and you get the release of finally being yourself without that silly little person suit on. There is no you. No he, no him. Only it. It sends my cash. It sees the number. It spits it out. If my machine is working to the best of its capacity it has no issue tracking each number I say and completing its task. My ATM knows what to do.
Mega Saldi