Ye Olde Bay Area House Party - by Scott Alexander

When that April with his sunlight fierce The rainy winter of the coast doth pierce And filleth every spirit with such hale As horniness engenders in the male Then folk go out in crop tops and in shorts Their bodies firm from exercise and sports And men gaze at the tall girls and the shawties And San Franciscans long to go to parties.

"Hey!" says the hostess. "Great to see you again! You keepin' it real?" You were actually composing faux-Chaucer poems in your head, which seems like a marginal-at-best level of connection to reality. In desperation, you remember a piece of social skills advice you saw on r/greentexts, where you imagine what a hypothetical cooler version of yourself would say, then say that. You simulate the hypothetical cooler version of yourself. It says: "Real as an eel, sister!", then saunters off cockily. You decide to ignore all social skills advice from now on. Instead, you mumble something incomprehensible and desperately try to change the topic.

"How is your ... " You strain your memory, then it comes to you. "...automated land acknowledger?" That's right, last time you talked to her she was working on an Amazon-Echo-like device that you could leave in your home and workplace. At programmable intervals, it would read a canned message acknowledging you were on Native land.

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