Watson used to be just a geek. Super into computing, obsessed with Jeopardy, that kind of thing. You know the type. But like many a dweeby guy before him, as Watson reached adulthood, he realized that perhaps his dorkiness could be harnessed, that there was a place where it would give him status, and not just among a subset of committed trivia fans. That place is Wall Street, USA. And so, a year after his big win on Jeopardy, Watson has become a first-year analyst for Citigroup.
Sure, at first he’ll probably still spend his weekends gaming or whatever. But soon he’ll be getting drinks on a Friday at Joshua Tree, and talking about that one sorority girl from UVA who’s working in PR and has all those hot friends. He’ll be buying Knicks tickets and bottles at Dream. He’ll be copied on e-mail chains about summer shares in the Hamptons — actually, he’ll probably be the guy organizing the share and tabulating who owes what. (It’s in his nature.)
Every once in a while, he’ll flip on his 96-inch television and Jeopardy will be on, and he’ll have a brief flicker of regret, of longing for a former self. But the feeling will pass, and Watson will send a perfectly formed text to a friend to see what’s going on that night so he can make sure it’s behind him. “’Sup, bro?” He is, after all, extremely good at processing, understanding, and using natural language, and that skill will always get him far.