On Robot Dining Habits; Or, Are the Absinthes Actually Androids?
We're delighted to share another piece from Sarah Tonin. However, I must admit to some bias in publishing this one, as Maya and I feature rather prominently in her latest investigation. Sarah's unique perspective on SL hospitality has quickly become a reader favourite, even if her theories about me being the ‘Dirk-obot’ remain... inconclusive. Here's her account of an evening at The Continental:
From the Paranormal Investigation Files of Sarah Tonin
It started, as these things often do, with a perfectly normal invitation.
“’How would you like to join Maya and me at The Continental for dinner?’”
I read Dirk’s text out loud to Violet, who happened to be reviewing our previous investigation notes at her desk. By now, I was used to the 3 AM Dirktext as a catalyst for a new adventure, but this one was stamped with a more human time – exactly 7:43 PM.
“Sure, but I just realized something,” she commented without looking up from her laptop. “He posted your revi—erm, investigation notes at exactly this time last Tuesday. See? It’s right here. 7:43 PM.” From the tone she took, I could tell she was unwilling to let this just be a coincidence.
“They’re too organized,” Violet insisted, rising to pace our office. “When’s the last time you saw them make a mistake? Show up late? Misdescribe something in a review? Make a typo, for that matter?!” She paused at the corkboard and pinned up two small cards, his and hers, and connected them by coloured string. “Have you ever seen that guy not wearing a suit?”
“Maybe they’re just… professional?” I had to admit she had a point.
“Or swingers,” Violet mused. “That would explain the coordination, how comfortable they seem with everyone…”
I shook my head and began, “No, this goes beyond that. Have you noticed how Maya—”
“—always knows exactly what Dirk is going to say?” Interjected Violet with newfound enthusiasm. Pacing again now, her glance tossed toward the pegboard at intervals. Finally, she stopped in front of me and said firmly, “Robots.”
“Robots?”
“Robots,” Violet repeated. “Or possibly sophisticated androids. Maybe replicants. Definitely not human.”
I sighed and reached for the file drawer marked “Active Investigations.” We had been tracking some strange activity in Second Life lately – perfectly maintained ski resorts appearing overnight, cryptid mating patterns on new dating apps – but never robot resort reviewers. Connect the dots, and something was definitely afoot in the virtual hospitality industry.
“Fine,” I said, jotting a note. “But if you’re wrong about this, I get to wear what I want for a month.”
“Deal,” Violet grinned. “But when I’m right, you have to admit the ski resort uniform is kinda cute.”
The Investigation Begins
The first thing you notice about Dirk Absinthe is his moustache. It’s exactly the kind of moustache a sophisticated robot would choose to seem more human – impeccably groomed while not quite perfect, refined without the affect of too much wax and curl. The second thing you notice is his suit – which really ought to be plural, because he’s always wearing one – and how it seems to defy the laws of material science, unwrinkled and crisp regardless of where or how you might find him.
Then there’s Maya Absinthe. Preternaturally productive, an organizer of events and maker of spaces, it seems to this investigator that she must carry around the most comprehensive calendar on the entire grid – and that’s for everyone else’s parties, too. Haven’t even mentioned the hair yet. She's got the hair of rich girls, the ones who held down the back-corner table at the cafeteria. Just minus the sneer.
Dirk and Maya make quite a couple, and when we arrived at The Continental to find them waiting for us in the lounge, it was 7:43 PM. Because of course it was.
Investigation Note: Dirk’s review of The Continental says it better than I ever could. Thecla’s created an impressive place. You won’t be disappointed.
The Continental offers an impressive atmosphere for surveillance. Dark corners perfect for observation, multiple exits (always useful when dealing with maybe-replicants), enough ambient noise to mask conversation. Most importantly, the staff seem tolerant of strange behaviour, barely batting an eye when Violet began using her cocktail stick to scan for electromagnetic frequencies.
Dinner Frozen Over
What followed was either the most sophisticated display of human simulation I’ve ever witnessed, or simply a lovely dinner with two charming people. To test our hypothesis, Violet had worked with a leading expert in the construction of lead balloons to prepare a series of weapons-grade “icemakers” – questions designed to provoke emotional responses, the lack of which would reveal our dinner partners to be synthetic beings.
“Do you prefer prong collars or choke collars?” Violet asked casually over appetizers.
A normal person might have sputtered on their drink or changed the subject. Instead, Maya and Dirk engaged in a thoughtful discussion about the ethics of different kinds of restraints. Our early swinger theory seemed less than likely now – swingers would surely have jumped at the chance to engage in some deeply inappropriate dinner conversation. This had to be good programming.
“How racist are your parents?” Violet deployed her next probe. “Mine are dead,” I enthused, by way of encouragement.
Any human would have been caught off guard! But Dirk smoothly led a nuanced discussion of generational attitudes. Maya’s sympathetic nods were perfectly calibrated and could not have better deployed to suggest actual empathy. Whoever put together their social adaptation algorithms surely knew what they were doing.
“Are you a squirter?” Violet asked Maya suddenly, as I was taking a sip of wine. Maya shook her head sympathetically – probably at me – and commented that her preference was not to spit, in reference to my involuntary -take.
Meanwhile, Dirk maintained perfect composure, offering a detailed overview of the female ejaculation options available in a variety of sex bed engines. Who keeps this information front of mind, unless they’re polling an internal database?
“Did you know it’s like 95% urine?” I added unhelpfully to provoke some human embarrassment. Nothing back.
Dessert à la Flambé
Violet was about to deploy her nuclear icemaking option – it involves post-coital moustache odour – when our evening took an unexpected turn. Opie, The Continental’s somewhat chaotic server, decided to celebrate Dirk’s birthday with an impromptu fireworks display.
As flames engulfed the tablecloth, we were provided with an excellent opportunity to observe how our subjects handled unexpected threats to their health and safety. Their response to the catastrophe was unsurprisingly inhuman.
They didn’t even leave their seats, with Dirk laughing about how fortunate it was his tie of choice that night was flame retardant. A solid coating of fire extinguisher foam didn’t dampen Maya’s charm, and somebody even commented that it was similar enough to meringue to count as backup dessert.
The Verdict
After three hours of careful observation, multiple courses, and one minor emergency, we are unfortunately forced to conclude that indeed, either Dirk and Maya Absinthe are advanced robots, programmed with an impressive array of social protocols, or they’re simply lovely people who happen to be really good at what they do.
Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between. After all, in a virtual world where we can all choose our level of perfection, maybe being consistently wonderful isn’t even suspicious at all.
Investigation Status: Inconclusive, but delightfully. Violet still has questions, but she always does – do androids even squirt? And if they do, what about those poor electric sheep? Still, as dinner companions, the Absinthes rate five stars out of five – highly recommended. Even if they are robots, they’re the kind you’d want to have dinner with again.
Postscript
From March, The Continental will be hosting monthly dinners during the first week of each month, with reservations opening one week before each dinner. For the latest information and reservations, please contact Thecla directly.
In addition, Thecla has recently opened a new club called Atonement (pictured) in the same sim. DJs interested in performing at Atonement should reach out to Thecla (IW Thecla Resident) for booking information.
Image Credits - Maya Moxie (Absinthe), Sarah Tonin, Violet Voxel, Thecla
