Dancing for the Algorithm

A poke in the stomach jarred Wally awake. “Ow,” he mumbled.

“Wally, get up.” Rose shook his shoulder.

Wally felt around on the nightstand for his phone. It took a second for numbers to come into focus. “It’s 5:00 a.m. What’s the emergency?”

“We don’t have a video for today. You agreed we would post daily.”

He groaned. When he had agreed to posting every day, he hadn’t anticipated how exhausting it would be. “Well, we forgot to film extra videos this week. It doesn’t matter now.”

“We’re barely making enough as it is,” Rose said. “Everyone says you have to post daily to grow your channel.”

Every day since the near accident, Wally’s enthusiasm for their MeOnTV channel had diminished. When the channel started, it had just been him and Rose enjoying some meals out. Why not film a nice dinner out with your girlfriend? Why not get that cute neighborhood restaurant on the corner a little attention? Wally’s parents had owned a little deli before they retired. He knew how hard running a restaurant could be.

“It’s Thanksgiving Day, Rose. Nothing will be open.”

“When is the dinner at your parents?” Rose asked. “Early afternoon, right?”

Wally rubbed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“So let’s film at your parents.” Her words tumbled over each other, too fast for Wally to follow. “A day in the life sort of thing. Actually, this is great!”

Clearly, Rose was more awake than he was. How long had she been up worrying about this?

“Letting people see a little bit of your personal life is a great way connect with the audience,” Rose continued.

“We’d have to ask people if they want to be filmed.” Wally instantly regretted his words. He wanted to talk Rose out of this idea. Instead, he sounded like he was being helpful.

“Well, sure. But no one’s going to say no.”

Rose was right, sort of. Wally’s family was quintessentially midwestern. They were polite and agreeable to a fault. They would paste their smiles on all through dinner, and then talk about how ridiculous this MeOnTV venture was after Rose and Wally left. Wally would hear about it from his younger brother, Tom. Tom enjoyed replaying all the conversations where their parents criticized Wally. He says he’s a content creator, whatever that means

“I don’t know, Rose.” Wally tried to organize his still sleepy thoughts. “Not everyone wants their personal life to be a performance.” Shit. He’d gone from being too accommodating to being too honest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wally sat up. Reorganized his thoughts again. His eyes caught on the corner desk piled with recording equipment and the computer they used to edit and post videos. If they made a little bit more money, they might be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment. With a second bedroom, they could have an office.

“Nothing,” Wally said. He rolled over and got out of bed. “I just meant, you’ve seen our old family videos. My dad blinks too much and my mom speaks an octave higher whenever a camera is pointed at her. It’s not going to be great footage.”

Rose stared at him with her we’re-about-to-have-fight expression.

Clothes. Wally should find some clothes and get out of the bedroom as fast as possible. He pulled on pants and searched for a clean T-shirt.

“Do you want this to work or not?” Rose was out of bed now too. Her hair was still tousled from sleep and her long T-shirt was still wrinkled. Her natural face, no makeup, was set in a glare.

He realized he wasn’t used to seeing Rose out of makeup anymore. Wearing makeup used to be the exception for Rose. Now she wore makeup every day they filmed. Which was every day. “We messed up and forgot to film an extra video. It’s one day. We’ll be fine.”

“But everybody says the algorithm—”

“Fuck the algorithm!” Wally threw his laundry into the hamper. “You realize no one actually knows exactly what the algorithm wants, right? MeOnTV keeps the details secret on purpose.”

“I’ve spent hours researching this. Getting tips from other content creators. Without your help. You could at least help me follow their advice.”

Wally finally found a clean shirt. The logo made him cringe—it was the first version of the merch for their channel. Cartoon versions of Rose and him layered into a burger as if they were the toppings. They’d left the design up for a day before being laughed off the Internet. He was definitely not wearing that to his family Thanksgiving.

“So what if they’re right,” Wally said. “This channel is still us, right?”

“Exactly,” Rose said. “I’m doing all of this for us. And lately, it feels like you don’t even care.”

“No, I mean our brand is us.” Wally hated how the words sounded. As if he were a marketing executive at a meeting. If marketing executives met shirtless in cold bedrooms. For business meetings that were also arguments. “Our content should be genuine. It should make sense for us. That’s what people subscribe for.”

Rose chewed on the idea. “We’re not making enough money. You know that. We have to grow the channel or . . .”

Or get real jobs, as both Rose’s parents and Wally’s parents had hinted lately. Wally and Rose had spent a year scraping by, trying to grow the channel.

The credit card debt was growing. Their meager income didn’t reflect their effort. Their short list of fans saw one thirty-minute video a day. They didn’t see all the time Rose and Wally spent editing, planning content, organizing cross-collabs, engaging with viewers’ comments, deleting the trolls’ comments, analyzing viewer counts based on keywords or video titles, dealing with copyright strikes for barely audible music in the background . . . most hours of the day were spent doing something related to their channel.

“I know,” Wally said. But is this the life you want? “Let’s brainstorm later, okay? I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Sure. Whatever. I’m going to shower.” Rose grabbed her robe and stormed out.

Wally gathered all the dirty laundry. Spending a few hours in the building’s laundry room would be a good excuse to get out of the apartment.

****

The car smelled like chemical lavender. Wally hadn’t noticed the leftover dryer sheet when he’d started the dryer. Now his clothes smelled like someone had sprayed Lysol on some wildflowers. Or maybe perfume that expired fifty years ago. Wally’s uncle would make at least one joke about it. Probably a homophobic one.

Good thing he’d talked Rose out of filming his family’s Thanksgiving.

Rose sniffed and wrinkled her nose.

He wished she’d get the lecture out of the way. He’d hear about it later anyway. You never pay attention to the details. Do I have to do everything?

She wasn’t wrong. Wally tried. He really did. But he’d never managed to be what anyone else needed him to be. At his parent’s deli, he’d been appointed assistant manager and failed within three months.

Who could keep all those schedules straight anyway? One employee could work weekends except the last weekend of the month. Another could work weeknights, but not Tuesdays. Suppliers dropped by at all hours of the day with deliveries and invoices that had to be tracked. The busy times were never predictable. Wally still had nightmares about angry customers waiting in line and the stacks of paperwork that had built up on his desk.

Wally had thought this MeOnTV thing might be it. Working just under forty hours a week at minimum wage hadn’t paid great either. So why not spend his time building a channel where he owned the profits? And spend more time with Rose. He might be shit at managing schedules and suppliers, but he knew good food when he saw it.

He could wax rhapsodically about the flavor balance of a ham and swiss sandwich with just the right aioli and mustard. Authentically. Wally appreciated the artistry of a good meal.

“We’re here,” Wally said. Not so long ago, he and his dad had spent hours in the kitchen testing new menu items for the family business. Now every visit home felt like picking through a minefield. Don’t mention the deli—they wanted you to take it over and you said no. Don’t mention your new job—they think you’re wasting your time with this content creator thing. Don’t mention anyone you know having kids—unless you want to hear about how nice it would be to have some grandchildren around.

Rose got out of the car without saying anything. She hadn’t said a word to him on the ride over. Wally hurried to catch up with her. The last thing he needed today was for his parents to know he and Rose were arguing. His parents would say it’s proof the relationship wasn’t working. If the relationship was meant to be, you would have married her already. Well, they wouldn’t say it out loud until after he and Rose had left.

There was an order to how things ought to be done. Get a stable job. Meet a nice girl. Get married. Have a kid or two or three.

Wally’s younger brother, Tom, was engaged. Wally’s younger brother was a warehouse manager. Never mind that Tom had only known his wife for six months before they got engaged. Never mind that Tom couldn’t afford a wedding. Never mind that Tom was making the night shift work by popping pain pills to work through a back injury. Never mind that Tom could have taken over his parent’s deli if he wanted. Nobody had ever blamed Tom for the deli closing.

The door opened just as Wally reached the front steps. Wally held out his offering—deviled egg potato salad. Just like they used to make at the deli.

“You used dill pickles, not bread and butter?” Wally’s dad asked.

“Of course, Dad,” Wally said. Let the judging begin.

“Let them come in, for god’s sake,” Wally’s mom said. She put a hand on Wally’s arm as she closed the door. “Your brother and uncle are already here. If you don’t mind, could you refill the cooler in the kitchen?”

This was code for your-uncle-has-had-too-much-already-and-your-dad-won’t-say-anything-about-it. Wally’s job in this well-rehearsed maneuver was to refill the cooler, but put all the alcoholic beer at the bottom and a bunch of nonalcoholic beer on top. At least someone else was getting judged.

“Pam, Jerry,” Rose said. “I hope you don’t mind, I was thinking we could film a little bit during family dinner. You make such wonderful food from all those recipes you used at the deli.”

Their smiles froze in peak midwestern politeness. Now Wally was getting judged again. But if he contradicted Rose, his parents would know about the argument from this morning. Which was why Rose knew Wally wouldn’t say anything.

“Well, sure, I suppose,” Wally’s mom, Pam, said. “It doesn’t hurt anything, I guess. Can I take your coats?”

“Great!” Rose was as chipper as his parents were pretending to be.

Wally shot Rose a look when his parents went to hang their coats in the closet. “What are you doing—”

“You’ll thank me later,” Rose whispered back.

Pretty sure I won’t, Wally thought. But his parents were facing them and he couldn’t say anything.

“There’s more ice in the garage,” Pam said to Wally.

Right, the cooler. Wally found the ice and a case of nonalcoholic beer in the garage. He carried both to the kitchen, where his uncle was digging at the bottom of the cooler. His uncle’s hand came up dripping and red from the cold. Tom, Wally’s much celebrated younger brother, was chopping vegetables at the counter.

“Just in time,” his uncle said. “You’re out.” The cooler held at least twelve beers. But Wally’s uncle wasn’t slurring his words yet.

“Here’s a cold one.” Wally handed his uncle a beer from the case. “Still cold from the garage.”

“You wearing cologne?” His uncle sniffed. “What’s that smell like? Lilac?” He laughed. “Hey Tom, your brother smells like a girl!”

“The apartment laundry—” Wally started.

Tom came over and sniffed too. “That’s pretty strong, man.”

“The apartment laundry—”

“Did you grab Rose’s perfume by accident or are you trying to tell us something?” Wally’s uncle laughed again. “No wonder you haven’t married Rose yet!”

Could have been worse, I guess, Wally thought.

“Gotta have a little family meeting,” Wally’s uncle said. “So you can come out of the closet already.”

Okay, that was worse. “I’m not—” Wally looked up and saw Rose’s camera in front of his face. Rose was filming him.

“Yeah, he spilled a little bit of my perfume while we were getting ready,” Rose said, laughing along with his uncle. She hated when his uncle said things like that. But here she was, filming and going along with it. Lying, just a little. For the footage.

Wally shoved cans forcefully into the ice. Just another couple of hours here. He just had to make it through dinner and then he and Rose could get home and talk. When Rose had calmed down, when they both had calmed down, they would finally be able to talk.

Rose panned her camera over to Tom. “Tell us what you’re working on.”

Tom stared at the camera like a deer in headlights. “Salad,” he said robotically.

The footage didn’t get any better from there.

At home, they sat at the corner desk in their bedroom reliving the worst Thanksgiving they’d ever had. Rose sat in his lap. The way she always did when they edited. He liked how close they felt. Plus, they only had one chair in the tiny corner set aside for the desk.

“This is horrible,” Rose said.

I told you so, Wally thought. “We can’t post this. Any of it.”

“I just wanted to—” Rose twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I was just so worried about not having anything. I shouldn’t have asked your parents when you weren’t comfortable with it. I shouldn’t have gone along with your uncle’s idiotic jokes.” On the screen, the video was paused where she was laughing with Wally’s uncle about the spilled perfume. “When did I become the kind of person who laughs at your uncle’s jokes?”

“It’s okay. Let’s just . . . let’s never do this again.”

Rose stared at the screen and cringed. “Agreed. But what are we going to do?”

“First, we’re going to delete all these files.” Wally dragged them all to the trash and emptied it. What a relief it would be to go one of these family things and just be honest with people. Maybe that started with him. “I’m going to start looking for a job. We don’t have to stop doing the channel. But if we have a little income, we can slow down.”

“I can do most of the MeOnTV admin stuff once you start working,” Rose said.

“I do want this channel to work,” Wally said. “I like talking about the food, highlighting all these small businesses. I’m sorry if I haven’t been helping as much.”

“I know,” Rose said. “You were right too. I don’t want to be one of the fake channels where we ape for the camera. And if the channel can’t work with us being us . . . we walk away.”

A ding interrupted their conversation and a new email appeared: ‘Sponsorship opportunity for your channel.’

Rose gripped his arm. “Open it!”

Wally opened the email attachment. An unfamiliar window popped up before the screen went black. He hit the space bar repeatedly but the nothing responded.

“What the hell?” Rose said.

The screen lit up again. Most of the display was taken up by a message in caps.

WE HAVE CONTROL OF YOUR MEONTV ACCOUNT. YOU CAN HAVE IT BACK FOR TEN THOUSAND BITCOIN. YOU CAN FIND DIRECTIONS FOR SETTING UP YOUR CRYPTO WALLET BELOW. IF YOU DON’T SEND US THE RANSOM, WE WILL DELETE ALL YOUR VIDEOS.

Rose was frantic. She unlocked her phone and went to the MeOnTV page. “Our password isn’t working. They’ve locked us out.”

“Look up how much 10,000 bitcoin is.”

“Fuck. Twenty-eight thousand dollars.”

“We don’t have that. We have backups, right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rose said. “If they delete all our videos, the comments and history are deleted too. If we re-upload the content, the MeOnTV algorithm will treat them as new videos.”

“So the little progress we’ve made so far—”

“All lost,” Rose said. “Maybe we give up. Maybe this was never going to work.”

Wally reread the email. “There’s a support link.”

“Like tech support?” Rose said. “Our problem isn’t tech support. We don’t have the money. And even if we could get it . . . our channel isn’t worth $28,000.”

“Exactly.”

Rose stared at him. “Negotiate. For something that’s worth nothing.”

“Look, I was shit at managing the deli, but I did learn a few things,” Wally said. “They’re treating this like a business. So let’s follow their lead.”

“Ooooookay.”

Wally clicked on the support link. The web page politely informed him that a customer support representative would be available soon. A short second later the web page loaded a chat window. A silhouette profile picture labeled Nick appeared next to a blinking cursor. The name for his profile picture was the same as their channel.

Nick: How can I help you pay the ransom today?

WallyAndRoseEat: Well, here’s the thing. We can’t afford the ransom. Not even close.

Nick: I’m authorized to discuss discounts with you.

Rose paced back and forth in the room, peering at the screen every time she got close to Wally.

WallyAndRoseEat: No, you don’t understand. We’re making almost nothing right now.

Nick: Everyone says they can’t afford it. And I understand this is difficult, but I won’t be able to release your videos without some payment.

WallyAndRoseEat: You took over our account, right?

Nick: We don’t like to say it that way.

WallyandRoseEat: But you did.

Nick: Yeah, sure, we did.

WallyandRoseEat: So check our numbers. You can see what we’re making. You can see how many of the videos are labeled as sponsored.

Nick: I guess I could. But I’m telling you, you’ll have to pay.

WallyAndRoseEat: Just check, please.

Nick: Please hold on a minute.

“Who the hell are these people?” Rose said. “They sound like actual customer service.”

Wally grinned. “It’s a business, I told you.”

Nick: Your numbers are shit.

WallyAndRoseEat: Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. So why not just let our channel go?

Nick: I’m not authorized to do that. I have to get something . . .

WallyAndRoseEat: Come on, man. It’s Thanksgiving.

Nick: Look, I’m sorry. It’s just how it is. There are rules.

WallyAndRoseEat: Account takeover is automated, right? It happened so fast, it must be.

Nick: I really can’t help you, I’m sorry.

WallyAndRoseEat: I’m trying to help you.

The cursor blinked while someone who was probably not named Nick thought about how to answer.

Nick: How can you help us?

WallyAndRoseEat: MeOnTV must try to find your activity, right? Every account you takeover is a risk because you make noise on MeOnTV’s network. So you took a risk with us. And if you follow through with deleting our videos, you make even more noise. I’m telling you, we’re a bad investment. We can’t pay you. So cut your losses. Give us the account back.

Nick: Nice try, man. Sorry.

WallyAndRoseEat: You should watch a few minutes of our first video.

Nick: Wow. You’re really motivated here.

Wally glanced back at Rose before typing his reply. Why was it easier to be honest with this random asshole than her?

WallyAndRoseEat: You have a favorite restaurant where you are, I bet. You don’t have to say. But everyone has a place. That place with the perfect takeout when you don’t know what to make for dinner.

Nick: Sure?

WallyAndRoseEat: My girlfriend and I have lots of places like that. We like being regulars. Talking to the chefs. Learning about the history that goes into their food and the recipes they loved as kids. We started this channel so we could share all those things.

Nick: You’re not sharing with that many people. Your numbers are shit. Like, seriously, the lowest numbers I’ve seen.

WallyAndRoseEat: All I’m saying is this is a passion project. My parents used to run a restaurant. We were that neighborhood place.

Nick didn’t respond.

WallyAndRoseEat: I tried to take over running the place but I sucked at it. I guess this channel is me trying to make up for failing at the family business. If we can’t be the neighborhood place anymore, maybe I can drive people to the other great places around here.

Why was Wally inviting the mockery of a random criminal? He’d told Rose this was a business negotiation.

Nick: I hate to tell you, but you’re failing at this too. You have ten subscribers.

WallyAndRoseEat: So cut your losses. It’s one little project. That you were never going to make money from anyway. A good deed for Thanksgiving.

Nick: I get fired for good deeds.

WallyAndRoseEat: This seems like a big operation. You’ve had access to the account for what, 5 minutes? One customer disappearing. No one will notice. Especially an account that was never going to make you money in the first place.

Nick: I don’t know, man.

WallyAndRoseEat: Did you watch the video?

Nick: Watching. Your content isn’t bad. You need a better mic, will take care of that background noise. And if you adjust the settings on your camera, you can get better shots of the food in dark restaurants or when the shot is backlit.

WallyAndRoseEat: If they ask, you can make up some excuse. Say we had an email from MeOnTV that said suspicious activity was detected on our account.

Nick: And I was protecting the company.

WallyAndRoseEat: Yeah, exactly.

“Holy shit, Wally,” Rose said. “This might actually work.”

“My parents almost lost the deli once,” Wally said. “Some construction was cutting off foot traffic. So my dad goes to the landlord we’ve known for years and shows him our books. Every single cent we’re not making. And he says you can evict us because we won’t make rent for the next couple of months, but you’re not going to find a new tenant with that construction. So how about we make a deal? We’ll pay you our missed rent plus some when business picks up again.”

“Except we’re never going to pay them,” Rose said.

Wally shrugged. “The point is if you can make a connection with someone they might do you a favor. Especially if it doesn’t cost them much.”

Nick still hadn’t answered.

Life without the channel wouldn’t be that bad. It might be better, even. Rose and Wally had talked about walking away earlier. Being forced away was different though. Walking away was a choice. This was a robbery.

Nick: You know I’m a supervisor? I’ve been working here for long enough to become supervisor and I still can’t get a night off when I ask for it.

WallyAndRoseEat: That’s not fair.

Nick: Fuck it. I had tickets for a show tonight. Had tickets for weeks. But could I go? Nope. Because they say I have to work. You can have your account back. I’m going to delete our chat. It’s your lucky day.

The chat disappeared before Wally could answer. The menacing ransom note disappeared too. Another note appeared, thanking them for paying the ransom along with a temporary password to get back into their account.

Rose used her phone to log into the account. “The temporary password works—”

Wally unplugged the computer just to be sure the ransomware gang didn’t try again. Their computer – their only computer – would have to be reinstalled. “Change it, quick.”

“I know, I know.”

Wally had never seen Rose type faster.

“Checking on the recovery email too,” Rose said. “They changed it, I’ll change it back.”

“All good now?” Wally asked.

“We . . .” A smile bloomed slowly on her face. “We have our worthless account back.” Rose hugged Wally. “You were brilliant.”

“We have all our problems back too,” Wally said. “We do need more content. And we’ve been to all the places within two hours of here.”

“That content wasn’t getting us much engagement anyway,” Rose said. “We need something different. Something more personal.”

Like a family Thanksgiving? “What exactly do you mean?” Wally asked carefully.

“That thing you said to Ransomware Nick about being the neighborhood place. You liked making food for people, being the place to gather.”

“I don’t want to start a restaurant, Rose.”

“What about your family’s recipes?” Rose asked. “Would your parents mind letting us use them? You could teach me how to cook.”

This idea was sounding worse and worse. “I love you, but you suck at cooking.”

“Exactly. It’ll be entertaining. Remember when I made cookies and used baking soda instead of baking powder?”

Wally made a face. “They were awful. This might work.”

“So teach me how to cook,” Rose said. “And as a bonus it’s probably cheaper than eating out all the time.”

Wally liked the idea of spending time together with Rose when they weren’t arguing or stressing out about where to drive next week. He might even be able to share some stories from the deli in their new series. He and his brother had literally grown up there. His parents had converted part of the back room into a nursery.

He could build a better, more honest, relationship with Rose. He could honor what his parents had built, even if he hadn’t been able to keep it going. And if the algorithm didn’t like their content, at least he could be proud of what he and Rose were creating together.