ArchivedLogs:Marketing and Sex Robots
| Marketing and Sex Robots | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
2014-06-02 ' |
| Location
<NYC> Busboys and Poets - East Harlem | |
A quiet, artsy spot nestled away on a side street in East Harlem, Busboys and Poets combines cafe and bookstore in a way a Starbucks tacked on to a Barnes & Noble could never achieve. The food is a solid, multi-national cuisine menu that caters to all kinds of dietary choices, and its fair-trade tea menu is extensive. Its weekend brunch tends to draw a large crowd, but there is ample enough seating both at tables and on its many comfortable armchairs and couches that at other times of the week there is never a wait. The walls are adorned with the work of local artists, and tucked in among and alongside the couches are rows upon rows of books, with a definite slant towards the political and the bohemian.
As one who comes from better weather and cranky already about the heat and humidty, Keith has meandered into the cooler confines of the establishment in search of iced coffee that wont tag on the cost of a name brand. His attire shows that he shops far too often at Woot, as the red shirt he wears has a cat on it demanding coffee right Meow, and a pair of khaki cargo shorts helps to keep him cool, at least by leaving a few inches of his legs uncovered. Standing in line waiting to be served, he adjusts his glasses as he contemplates the sizes of frozen coffee drinks. "They need a gargantuan size. Large is too small," he mutters to the air. Doug is not a native New Yorker, but he's lived here long enough that a day like this is a glorious taste of the summer to come. He may or may not have taken the afternoon off from work, since there's no way he was in the office in a pair of beige canvas high-tops, snug grey football shorts and a tight-fitting white t-shirt with SAVE FERRIS across the chest in blocky black print. He has a gym bag slung across his chest and a tablet in his hand when he pushes through the front door and makes his way into the line. He's really engrossed in whatever he's doing on his tablet; not paying attention until he hears the familiar voice ahead of him. Then he's glancing up, and flashing a lop-sided grin at Keith. "A frien -- a guy I know was saying the other day that he wanted an IV drip." This is a spot where people Isak's age go - but it isn't a spot that sees many people like Isak. Every part of his attire, from the black deck shoes, to the teal skinny jeans, to the graphic tee, to his watch, to his sunglasses are designer. His hair has been styled up into a loose approximation of a pompadour. He's wearing a month's salary - and these are his casual clothes. Before he goes too far into the cafe, he pauses and tugs off his sunglasses, then squints at the menu. "Hrm. No, no an i.v. drip would negate the taste. Also, whip cream in your veins is a terrible idea," Keith nods as he puts in his order of not one, but two large iced coffees with whip cream and two extra shots of espresso. "Maybe an drip of niacin and b vitamins and stuff. Then its pretend healthy at least, and tastes better than most energy drinks." Checking the smart watch on his wrist as it buzzes, he grumbles and pushes buttons to make it stop. "I need alerts, but I hate them, so much." Glancing at the fellow dressed so very fancily, he raises a brow, then shrugs. "Huh, wonder how much hair gel that takes," he says distractedly pushing a hand up through his already messy hair then shakes his head. "Nah, I couldn't pull off the Conan look." "Fair point," Doug says easily. "Although, you could get the drip, and get some coffee-flavored candy to suck on. That would /almost/ be the same." He pauses, considering that, and wrinkles his nose. "Never mind. That's an equally terrible idea." He grins, and hooks a thumb into the strap of his bag, tucking his tablet away. Keith's buzzing watch response gets a snort, and the teenager shakes his head. "I feel your pain," he says. "I gave up app notifications altogether because my freaking phone never shut up." He glances at the door when Keith does, and there's a flicker of recognition in his face. Maybe not for the man himself, but for the apparent /type/ of man. "It takes a lot," he says, pursing his lips. "And I bet /that/ requires the most expensive ones." Keith's fussing gets another grin, and the blonde leans in a bit. "There's something to be said for shaggy," he says. "Maybe you could go for the /other/ Conan look." Isak has noticed the attention, even though he's too far away to hear what they're saying. He gives one of those cursive looks, like a stone skipping over the water. He slides the sunglasses into his hair carefully and seems too lost in thought to be contemplating only the menu. The twang of a guitar string comes from his pocket. Speaking of notifications. He digs around for it and only gets a slight hold of it. It goes sliding from his fingers and clatters to the ground. "Shit." "Not app notifications, test results," Keith says holding up the watch showing a string of numbers on it. "I set the stuff up to run after I left the office. I can fix the design at home then if I get bored." Grinning at the Conan comment, he snerks and glances at his arms. "I am pretty sure that I would need super soldier serum to look like /That/ Conan." Making a face, he winces as the phone falls, though it decelerates slightly before it hits the ground, at least enough to prevent screen shatter. "The eternal dilemna. Defender series case to protect it from falls, or slimline case to fit into non jeans. The true answer, cargo pants." Acquiring his iced coffees, he glances around a moment as if looking for something. "I get plenty of those, too," Doug says, grinning. "I've got Warlock set up to let me know about code testing and stuff. That way, I don't have to go blind reading screen after screen of code." He laughs at the comment about Keith's arms, and shakes his head. "You're better off hitting the gym than hoping for wartime urban legends," he says sagely. "Though it /did/ make for good comics for that era." He also winces when the phone falls, and grits his teeth briefly before he squats to pluck it from the ground. "Defender series is nice," he says, holding the phone out for the other man. "I like the Valkyrie in that line. Doesn't add bulk to the phone, and has a nice, comfortable feel for long conversations." The iPhone 5 has only a thin, clear case. Form over function, it seems. Isak reaches for the phone. He checks it over for damage and looks relieved that the screen didn't shatter. "Mhmm. It seems a shame to cover up something that was designed to look nice. Sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" He has an accent - something faint and European. "Hey, I happen to believe in the power of positive thinking. Well thinking that I'd be positive of one being available for me. Less surgery involved than putting in cybernetics," Keith says with a smirk, and glances between the two men and the phone. "Its not bad hardware. I still think it's stupid that everyone is trying to make a bigger phone. What are they calling em? Taphlones or something. Stupid name either way. Have a tablet if you want a tablet, have a phone if you want a phone. Get cybernetic implants if you're playing the right game," the smile is more broad at that. "But having to replace em constantly when they break defeats the purpose of having a phone. Unless you carry multiple redundant ones, you'd be out of a phone till you get to a replacement." "Less surgery involved in gym time, too," Doug points out casually, returning the smirk and winking. "Although, a handy-dandy serum /would/ be the easiest route." He raises his arm to flex a bicep before dropping it. The comments from the other man about his phone gets another kind of smirk, and a pointed look thrown his way. "/Tell/ me about it," he says. "Why do you think I dress like this?" It might be a tease, but he keeps a straight face. "I'm with you," he says to Keith. "I mean, I married my phone to my tablet, but I can imagine walking around with one of those god-awful hybrids. I /would/ like some Google glasses, though." Isak only seems to be half following the conversation between the two others. Something about being a cybernetic muscleman? He wipes the phone against his shirt and checks it to make sure all the touchy bits still respond. Seems he got lucky. "I do have to wonder how much market research goes in to how to make these things just delicate enough that people will blame themselves if they break rather than calling it shoddy construction or blaming the manufacturers for making them too delicate." "I would like google glasses that aren't shit. It needs like double the features before I start wearing one around. Hey maybe we can see about building one inhouse, we've got the hardware," Keith starts strong with that and fades off at the end, then shakes his head and looks to Isak, that thought not having every passed his mind. "Thats kinda unlikely. I mean possible, but unlikely. Have you heard they were planning on using sapphire glass for the next iphone set? Ya know, transparent aluminum, Star Trek nerds everywhere cry out to the heavens." He chuckles at his own joke at least. "I want to get my hands on a pair and see if it's possible, at least," Doug says, bobbing his head. "I'm fairly certain we could do it. I could even upload Warlock into it." He grins at this idea, glancing over at the other man when he chimes in. "I don't know that much about Apple, but I think it's more about /making/ it, and then convincing people that they really, really needed it." He rolls his eyes a bit, playfully. "Like everything else in this country." Keith's information gets a hike of his eyebrows, and an impressed sort of look. "Really. LIke in Star Trek IV?" This /does/ seem impressive, and he falls silent on the matter to consider it as he places his order for a frozen latte. Then he turns back to Keith. "Why aren't we beating them on that?" he wonders. "It's not like Stark can't make /phones/, after all." "Yeah, except did you notice? I watched that remake of Star Trek the other day," Isak is half paying attention to his phone, half to the conversation. "Their consoles shattered like iPhone screens." The phone is slipped back into his pocket. "It would hurt their business model to have durable phones. The technology exists, but when something is breakable, then it feels like it has value and preciousness. That's why you see those reviews, you know? They say plastic feels cheap and is inferior. But the plastic...it's more durable. It doesn't scratch like the aluminum." "More important things than phones. He has more money than god, why would he need to make shit the average joe can buy?" Keith shrugs and gestures towards the sky as if that would answer it. Making a face with the comment about the movie, he nods and lets out a sigh. "Yeah, doesn't make a damn bit of sense with the replicators and post scarcity economy they have. I mean hell, they could be dropping out wafer thin graphene systems in diamond casing, or something even stronger. But, that's what happens when you make a movie, you don't have to follow continuity or logic, or even science. You just make something the average chair warmer can understand." Doug grins at Keith's assessment. "That's probably true," he says. "Although, we /are/ supposed to be bringing the future to the world, right?" He's quiet as he pays for his drink and collects it, leaning along the counter to grab a straw from in front of Keith. "I learned a long time ago to completely give up on trying to make that stuff make sense," he admits. "I think it was when I saw Jurassic Park for the first time, and all that whole UNIX system bullshit." He shudders, poking his straw into his drink and lifting a shoulder. "Besides, Star Trek is just a /blueprint/. For nerds like us," he gestures between Keith and himself, "to make correctly and better. So guys like him," Isak gets indicated here, "can buy it." "I feel like I should be insulted," says Isak with a little grin towards Doug. He orders his own drink and steps aside as milk is frothed. "You can have the best device in the world, but if you don't market it properly, no one is going to buy it. That's where guys like me come in. Did you know that Beta was actually better quality than VHS? VHS just had better marketing." "I think guys like him make it pretty so that guys like us get paychecks for making the things that amuse us," Keith grins as he looks over the much better dressed man. Grinning at Isak, he takes a long pull of the ice coffee, halving it in one draw. "I think Porn backed VHS actually. Never bet against porn, it's why our graphics cards and internet got up to speed so fast. At least till Crysis came out to destroy graphics cards and Netflix to consume bandwidth. You know it wasn't till the past few years that social media and streaming tv services beat porn in bandwidth.." He chuckles and shakes his head. "So, that's probably how we'd get life realistic androids too. Watch out for those Real Dolls coming with a strong AI soon." Doug grins at Isak, and lifts a shoulder. "It wasn't meant as one," he says. "You just look like a man of..." he lets his eyes rake over the other man before dragging them back up to tilt his grin a bit. "...discerning tastes." He nods at Keith's assessment,. and Isak's revelation that marketing is what he does. "He'd probably make it pretty just by holding it," he drawls, taking a long pull from his straw. "Which would probably accomplish the same end result." He snorts at the comments on VHS vs. Beta. "Yeah, and HD was better than Blu-Ray, until Sony got on board." He narrows his eyes, thinking for a moment. "Which kind of underlines your point, I guess." He shudders at the thought of A.I.'d Real Dolls. "Oh, gods," he groans. "We'd be living in a terrible, Hayley Joel Osmont-endorsing world, at that point. Just...Jude Law robots running around everywhere." "Ahh yes, the porn. Right." Isak snaps his fingers and rocks on his heels. How could he forget the porn? "I can't imagine that developing a realistic sex doll would be more cost effective than just hiring prostitutes." He lifts a shoulder and barely contains a look of amusement. "Now that is a thing I am surprised that Stark has not mass-marketed, if his reputation is to be believed." He grins at Doug and grabs up his drink when it comes. "I'm in the fashion industry. You're technical types, yes? So you carry the best of the phones. I dress like I know what is going on in my industry." His accent isn't always audible, but the syntax sometimes gives him away. "Hey, a prostitute has limits, changes, gets diseases. Imagine all the lonely japanese businessmen who want to have their anime mistress unchanging for decades, and programmed to love em." Keith ticks it off on his fingers as he talks. Frowning slightly at the gossip, he nods none the less at the assessment. "I'm sure if we could find a way to carry more tech we would. Well, aside from carrying backpacks and tech bags. Hey, you're in the fashion industry, think you could get bigger pockets around? Maybe one on the back or something so I can slip a tablet in." "I don't think Stark is into creepy," Doug says, lifting a shoulder. "And that's what that is, ultimately. Might as well have sex with a refrigerator. Programmed response isn't the same as the real thing." He lifts a shoulder. "I could see Hammer going down that road, though." He takes another long pull of his drink, watching Isak carefully as he speaks. "I'm really more of a software guy," he corrects absently. "But I know what you mean. I like to have the best tech I can manage, to show off my awesome software." He tips his head, narrowing one eye at the other man. "Fashion, huh? You a designer?" Isak shudders dramatically, but there's a sense that he's not exaggerating. Ugh. Sex robots. It makes the skin crawl. He sips his coffee just as Keith is asking the question. "Mhmm. My family is in the suit business, and phone size actually is a consideration for jacket pockets. But I'm imagining that isn't going to help you much." Then he looks to Doug. "Not a designer, no. Have you heard of Blomgren? My family makes suits for men and women, though we're branching a bit out from that. I do client services, which is essentially marketing." "Bleh suits. I haven't worn one since a job interview," Keith makes a face at that, then chuckles. "No offense meant. Its just not something that we need to put up with much. I mean the PR guys do, and Sales and such. But they don't let the engineers and techs near most of the people that stuff is being sold to." Tossing the first of his empty iced coffee, he takes his free hand and pulls out his phone, encased in mil grade protection, as he swipes across it a few times. "Still, Blomgren is doing pretty well right now according to trending. Can't complain about success. Thats just sour grapes." "Oh, I know Blomgren," Doug says, his eyebrows hitching upward. "Half the suits in my dad's closet are yours. I think I have a -- " he breaks off, wrinkling his nose. "/Had/. A couple of them. Good suits." He quirks a grin. "Clearly. Your work must not be that challenging, after you get in the door." He chuckles at Keith's assessment, and shrugs, chewing on his straw as he grins back at Isak. "He's exaggerating," he demurs. "They let us out of the cages on a regular basis, to keep us socialized." "We're doing well enough, but the suit market is by nature risk-adverse. Our suits are as modern as they need to be to keep up, but I'd really like to see some more innovation. But I'm the baby of the family. My voice is heard the least." Isak says that with a good-humoured grin. His eyebrows arch at Doug. "Well, always good to hear about brand loyalty. And you would be surprised. The clients with the most money are used to being wooed. In the shops, no. Sales pressure is not much needed or wanted. What I do is charm the buyers for high street stores, or the high-end hotels looking for a standard suit for their staff. Or the Hollywood star walking the red carpet for a major film. It sounds...glamorous, but it is basically a lot of brown-nosing and ego stroking." "It's certainly easier to get average guys through to get a suit. Probably takes five minutes to find one, then get it tailored to fit better," Keith glances at his tee shirt. "If I could just order it online, maybe have an automatic size scanner or something. Course that wouldn't really keep most brick and mortars going at that point," he says with a hrm. "Yeah, you're better off catering to the obscenely rich. They like to go in person to that stuff." Doug grins at Isak. "Hey. When something looks good, you tend to keep it, right?" He wrinkles his nose, and looks around. "I feel like I should have a camera trained on me." He listens to Isak's explanation, and grins. "Hey, not just the obscenely rich," he says to Keith. "There are plenty of people willing to put themselves into debt simply to /appear/ obscenely rich. Trust me." His tongue flicks out to catch a stray bit of latte, and he smacks his lips a bit. "My mom would totally do that to my dad, if he let her. It doesn't really stop her from going to the shows and stuff, though." "We actually have a full-body scanning tailor," says Isak casually. "Some of our suits only cost a few hundred dollars. Every man should own at least one." He rocks back a step and lifts his hand "It was nice talking to you. Enjoy this nice weather." "I'd prefer to put myself in debt building something no one else has," Keith taps a thing on his phone as it makes a dading noise. "Note: find a good source of rare earth magnets and platinum." He grins at that, and nods to Isak. "You enjoy the weather too. At the very least you wont have to worry about rain ruining your hair. I doubt that a hat works with that kind of hair style. Huh, do they make fancy designer umbrellas? I mean, aside from the silly ones with led handles." "Now /you/ sound like the commercial," Doug teases, crinkling his eyes at Isak. "But I guess we established that's kind of your job." He lifts a hand as the other man begins to excuse himself, and nods. "It was nice talking to you, as well," he says. "Maybe we'll run into each other again, sometime." Keith's comments twist up his eyebrows in a concerned sort of expression, and he shakes his head at the older man. "Dude. You're obsessed with this hair business." "What can I say? I drink the family Kool-Aid," Isak tugs his glasses out of his hair and slides them back on his face. "The hair is surprisingly durable if you do it right." He doesn't seem insulted. You don't wear teal pants and style your hair in a pompadour if you're overly sensitive. "Perhaps we will run into each other again." And then he's out the door. "What? Its all up and stuff. Kinda draws attention ya know," Keith nods, then looks over to Isak. "Have a nice day. And perhaps we will." Offering a wave he looks back to Doug. "I mean its a practicality thing. It would be like putting an antenna extender on a phone, then realizing the surface profile changes so you can't slide it into a pocket anymore." "Dude," Doug says, shaking his head. "You are /such/ a nerd." | |
