So my friend Charlie and I were discussing those Google App commercials where Google basically pretends that no one has even heard of Siri over the last couple of years, and makes out that asking your phone questions is still super amazing. The annoying thing, however, is that in the commercials, Google doesn’t seem to be directly answering the questions, which seems weird when you assume that google cherry picked these question/answer interactions for how well they sell the product. Like, the correct, direct answer to ‘Will I need an umbrella today?’ is not ‘Here’s today’s weather forecast.’, you dumb robot.
Anyway, this is the increasingly moronic series of text messages that Charlie and I sent to each other. I’ll do mine in bold, and Charlie’s in italic. Enjoy.
Here’s an unusual encounter that befell me yesterday. I was at work, quite quiet, very hot, when in walked a fully uniformed policeman. They occasionally make the rounds in my area, popping in just to say hello and reinforce their presence. This chap, however, was a little more memorable than many of his predecessors.
… and it was agonisingly awkward.
There was a girl in my shop with (presumably) her parents. She was maybe 18-24, I’m useless with guessing ages, and had bright blue hair (and for the record, I am quite a fan of bright, dyed hair). Anyway, she sort of shot me a few smiles, and I shot a few back in that customer/shop assistant kind of way, and after a very small chat with the lady I assumed to be her mother that she sort of joined in with, they left.
Cut to two hours later, and the phone rings.
Well, you know… sometimes. If I just happen to be sitting by the lake with my ladyfriend when the sun decides to glare off of my camera like a monochromatic, upside down rainbow. Also, I feel like I should work the word ‘dappled’ into this somehow. Hipsters love the word ‘dappled’. http://instagram.com/p/qr-64bNlF3/
Bad guy: Are we finally ready to negotiate?
Good guy: Look, god, I’ll bring you the damn money, just please don’t hurt my family, please.
Bad guy: Very well. You have 8 hours.
Good guy: I, uh… 8 hours? Dude, it’s like a 10 hour drive just to get to you.
Bad guy: Oh, yeah. Uh, that could be a problem, huh.
A typical day at work (a typically quiet day at work) was interrupted earlier when an adorable Chinese couple came in to my store for a little look around. They perused the stock for a short while, before the young lady glanced over at me and began whispering to her male companion (which immediately made […]