Once past the gate I was in the garden and the little robots in the garden all called out to me as I passed. Come play with us, they said, We're robots!
As I left they were singing a tinny little sing-song melody, in a hapless but adorable attempt at harmony.
Then I got to the street. Someone had changed my car into a giant kangaroo -- street crime is getting very common in San Francisco -- but how could I complain? I hopped on the convenient kangaroo saddle, turned on the stereo that was conveniently placed on the saddle horn, and shouted "Giddap!" to my giant kangaroo.
When we rode out to the freeway, there were no cars there. Only marsupials, hopping quickly down the lanes. They would honk at traffic jams. They would hiss when cut off. A police kangaroo with a siren on her forehead, ridden by the CHP officer, would sometimes ride up and box with other kangaroos who were hopping too fast.
When I got to work, I found that my job had changed. Now I'm in charge of finding peoples' restaurant behaviors.
When you choose a place to sit in a restaurant, what algorithm do you use? (And why?)
...and this is the "below" where you detail "something else."
How would you react differently if you were choosing a chair at a restaurant, and there were thousands of adorable little robots singing and asking you to come play with them?
Please select one of the following.