Whenever I’ve heard “Jolene”, it always triggers some intrusive thoughts. Like if a bank teller can be hot enough to almost tempt someone away from Dolly Parton of all people, could my husband Jeff also be so easily led astray? Sure, his screen time is borderline excessive, but I never once believed he’d spend a second of it talking to other women.
Unfortunately, those intrusive thoughts have turned into a real-life marital crisis because just like in the song, my husband is being tempted away from me by the AI assistant in his Bank of America app.
I knew something was up when I caught him on the app at 2 a.m. sending that harlot Erica messages about opening another savings account. Does he not realize we have a joint account already? It’s like he wants to get caught.
It’s almost comical how easily she could take my man. Is the allure of some soulless AI espousing financial advice that much more powerful than being with someone who has only provided him with a loving home? I’ve eavesdropped on her speech-to-text capabilities, and it’s far from soft like summer rain.
On top of that, this autonomous home wrecker can look like whoever Jeff wants her to look like. Dolly could at least do a Jolene threat assessment, what with the auburn hair and green eyes, and know who she was up against. Is Erica a goth muscle mommy, or a green-haired alt girl? Going by his Instagram searches, I’m potentially up against a top 1% OnlyFans model who moonlights as a bank teller.
Worst of all, I can’t even tell her to leave my husband alone. I called her out after requesting “help” setting up a retirement plan, and that bitch told me to call customer support. I will take a hammer to BoA’s servers if she doesn’t stop sending my man DM’s about building equity.
You know what? Fuck this. If Jeff wants to goon over an artificial computer woman, he can have her. My happiness doesn’t depend on competing with Erica, so I’m going to take some advice from a different Dolly song and dump the dude.
Have fun talking about her in your sleep, jackass.