I studied Greek in college, which meant I was temping soon after. My best gig was in an internal medicine office, where I sat in a closet calling insurance companies all day, and the ladies teased me for being a virgin, and also thought I was quaintly cute. Two of them attended my wedding.
In the closet, while calling the insurance companies, I stared at an old DOS medical records system. Each screen was a different human, a person, reduced to an ASCII medical records profile along familiar axes: name, age, gender, race, and then medical history. By the end of my stint I had an image of a reconstituted person, a human, appear (to my conscious mind) instantly upon switching screens. This was late 1999, the age of The Matrix, and I identified with Mouse, the geeky young character who scans the falling green characters and cognizes the world itself. Martha Schwartz, old lady, 309 lbs., sitting on her couch with a walker in front of her, tube