Virtual vehicles for the metaverse
Topics concerning that thing known as ‘real life’ and not virtual worlds.
I just recieved an e-mail from an anonymous source. There was no subject, and the body consisted only of this picture:
This could be bigger than I had expected. Is Microsoft stepping into the lucrative spork market? Is Gates himself the mastermind behind the missing utensils?
It’s been a week since my vigil in the kitchen, and still no sign of the missing utensils. I’ve seen people eating soups and stews with improvised utensils, such as rulers, rolled up sticky-notes, and even diskettes. Once-popular containers of chocolate pudding have gone untouched for days.
The local cubicle dwellers are beginning to lose hope. Some have been been affected more than others. While some have successfully switched to foods that require a fork or chopsticks, others resort to desperate means to fill the void left by the absent spoons. One programmer created a virtual spoon and spends hours interacting with it in The Sims. And in one sad case, a tech writer spent countless hours writing stories about utensils. I’m not sure if he’ll ever recover from the emotional scars.
It has to come to an end. The spoons have to be recovered. I have only one logical recourse now. I’ll have to call in a paranormal investigator — ideally a utensil specialist.
I arrived early last Wednesday morning — about 06:00 — to follow up a lead from Marketing. According to local legend, their kitchen is haunted by a spoon-like object that, in the words of the locals, “has the amazing ability to pick up food like a fork. It’s a revolution in kitchenware. It’s two utensils in one!”
I would normally ignore such tales as myth or, at best, a cheesy sales pitch. No stone, however, must be left unturned and no market-speak left untranslated. Damn those evil marketing copy writers, forever obfuscating and hyperbolating. I’d cut through that like a … a cutting thing through something that’s all soft and… cuttable. Like chocolate cake. Or pizza. I’d cut through it like a spatula through an omelette. Like pinking shears through a dill pickle. Like bolt-cutters through a Nerf football. Like a chainsaw through Jell-O. Ooh, that’s a good one. Just like that.
Anyway, after setting up a cubicle dweller blind, I observed the locals arriving for work. Typically, they’d enter the kitchen, fill a mug at the vending machine, then leave. Was that in itself a suspicious pattern? Every time it was the same. Enter, fill the mug, leave. Like a ritual. Was this the infamous Cult of the Coffee Bean founded by Juan Valdez back in the seventies?
By 11:00, I wondered if I was approaching this correctly. I still had no solid leads. Also, all that coffee really made me have to pee.
I struck camp and retreated to my cubicle.
My investigation into the missing utensils began with the obvious.
From: Stephen Cavers, Cubicle Investigations
To: Fred O’Donnell, Jr. Software Developer
Subject: Just a couple of questions
Hello Fred. The word around the department is that you’re from Newfoundland. Is this true?
And is it also true that while you lived in Newfoundland, you played in a band? Not only that, but you played the spoons, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!
Please get back to me whenever you can.
-Stephen
Only minutes later, Mr. O’Donnell wrote back.
From: Fred O’Donnell, Jr. Software Developer
To: Stephen Cavers, Cubicle Investigations
Subject: Re: Just a couple of questions
I’m from Saskatoon, you moron.
Well, that seemed pretty conclusive. He couldn’t have done it — Saskatoonians have no sense of rhythm.
My search would have to press on in new directions.
Some days ago, fear and suspicion gripped the dwellers at the cube farm. The e-mail memo said it all:
From: Tina Shrewberries
To: Everyone
Subject: ATTN: Spoons missing from 6th floor kitchen!!
There are no spoons left in the kitchen drawer! Could the person or persons responsible please replace the spoons? If you know of their whereabouts, we urge you to come forward and report what you know! This matter is of the utmost importance, as it threatens our ability to consume our lunches!!
Thank you for you attention!!!
Our kitchen was without spoons of any kind. Even the giant stirring spoons went missing, which was baffling because without a hotplate, there are no pots to stir. As well, the precious spork — that miracle of nature that is neither spoon nor fork, yet both — was also absent.
Some claim that it never existed at all, but I know better.
What nefarious purpose could be behind the disappearance of the spoons? I decided to take the case. So began The Search for Spork.