Drones are becoming cheaper and smaller, and remain shockingly unregulated. A personal drone might be a cross between an unpaid intern, a pet and a flying child. Here’s how I would use my drone, which I might call either Paul Jr. or Droney:
– I would program it to fetch toilet paper from an all-night CVS at 3 AM.
– I would use it to annoy my partner John, when he was sitting a few feet away. I would have the drone hover near his head and ask in a mechanical voice, “What are you doing?” and then, a split second later, “What are you doing now?”
– I would have it take photos of random people on the street, just to make them paranoid. Then I’d have it approach Justin Beiber but at the last second decide, “Nah” and zoom away.
– I would teach it to follow people who litter and scold them.
– I would have it reach inside the collars of people’s shirts from behind, if the tag sewn into their shirt has flipped up and can be seen. The drone would correct this and the people would thank me.
– I would train it to hover outside the door of any office where I was having a meeting, and as I emerged it would say, “Great meeting!”
