Be still my beating heart
Grim news in the village, as the grocery store where I used to buy my cheap booze has closed down.
In truth, they were fucked the second Sainsbury’s rolled into town, Sainsbury’s is half the size, stocks half the stuff but is newer and, for some reason, more popular. It’s also more expensive, so go figure.
This means that I now buy my booze from the Offie. I get served by either Aussie Guy, Facial Piercing Guy or Offie Girl.
Guess which one I’m going to blog about.
Just once, I promise…but what do you do? OG is…actually, I have no idea what she looks like because I went in to buy a bottle of wine and when she was serving me I noticed she had a low cut top on. Then I thought she thought I was staring at her boobs, so I can’t make eye contact, I’m certainly not looking at her chest, or at her. The poor woman must have thought I was special, was going to rob the place, had a twitch or all three.
I grabbed my wine, mumbled good evening and fled.
Such social ineptitude is acceptable today, but a few years hence…who knows. Because I think that in a few years time, we’ll have computers integrated into our clothing, maybe a heads-up on glasses or contacts and so when you look at a bar code you can get product information and when you wander into a public place you can see the MyFace profiles of other users, hovering over their heads (posted a 20 year old photo on your profile, taken before you discovered dunkin’ doughnuts? Let’s see you explain that in real life).
I know that some supermarkets have singles evenings where people have badges showing availability status and that in Japan you used to use a special device…but now just use your mobile…to have a sort of singleton profile so that if you’re on the bullet-train platform and you’re into manga, spanking and being bombed with atomic weapons and somebody else shares your interests, your ‘phones beep.
But I reckon that what’ll happen is that we’ll combine this with sensors of other people’s heart-rate and so on, so we’ll be able to tell if somebody is attracted to us. We’ll keep them talking, pull up their credit history and when the big red ‘loser’ sign comes up, it’s time to move on.
Until then, I guess that women will just have to rely on low cut tops and, after selling a bottle of wine, go into the back room, touch up their lip stick, smile into the mirror and say ‘men are such fools’.
In truth, they were fucked the second Sainsbury’s rolled into town, Sainsbury’s is half the size, stocks half the stuff but is newer and, for some reason, more popular. It’s also more expensive, so go figure.
This means that I now buy my booze from the Offie. I get served by either Aussie Guy, Facial Piercing Guy or Offie Girl.
Guess which one I’m going to blog about.
Just once, I promise…but what do you do? OG is…actually, I have no idea what she looks like because I went in to buy a bottle of wine and when she was serving me I noticed she had a low cut top on. Then I thought she thought I was staring at her boobs, so I can’t make eye contact, I’m certainly not looking at her chest, or at her. The poor woman must have thought I was special, was going to rob the place, had a twitch or all three.
I grabbed my wine, mumbled good evening and fled.
Such social ineptitude is acceptable today, but a few years hence…who knows. Because I think that in a few years time, we’ll have computers integrated into our clothing, maybe a heads-up on glasses or contacts and so when you look at a bar code you can get product information and when you wander into a public place you can see the MyFace profiles of other users, hovering over their heads (posted a 20 year old photo on your profile, taken before you discovered dunkin’ doughnuts? Let’s see you explain that in real life).
I know that some supermarkets have singles evenings where people have badges showing availability status and that in Japan you used to use a special device…but now just use your mobile…to have a sort of singleton profile so that if you’re on the bullet-train platform and you’re into manga, spanking and being bombed with atomic weapons and somebody else shares your interests, your ‘phones beep.
But I reckon that what’ll happen is that we’ll combine this with sensors of other people’s heart-rate and so on, so we’ll be able to tell if somebody is attracted to us. We’ll keep them talking, pull up their credit history and when the big red ‘loser’ sign comes up, it’s time to move on.
Until then, I guess that women will just have to rely on low cut tops and, after selling a bottle of wine, go into the back room, touch up their lip stick, smile into the mirror and say ‘men are such fools’.
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