Woke from wandering the banks of the North Platte river in Nebraska (although it's never been so narrow and winding) looking for trout. Probably fish anxiety from watching the fish in our pond through a veneer of growing ice.
Walked along the river bank and right into a house that was in the way. Robert Conrad's house as a matter of fact, although there's nothing to distinguish it as such, nor did I see him, nor did anyone mention him. The house was rather small, ill-equipped rental looking thing and the fridge looked old with rounded edges. The kind of place that smells of a perpetual slow gas leak.
Heard the sound of marching men (sort of makes sense) so we got out of there. Oh, right, someone was with me but I don't remember who.
After Bob's house we approached another house and a young lady answered the door. Through the door I could see that one of their two dogs, a dark brown labrador, was sitting on a kitchen chair staring intently at a projected hologram of the young lady hovering in the air a few inches above the kitchen table. The lady laughed and said that the dog has been trying to sniff the hologram.
The people at the kitchen table were getting ready to smoke something and I tried to impress them with my discovery of Robert Conrad's house just down the way. The lady's husband looked at me oddly but didn't say a word. I went back to studying the dog and its rapt attention to the hologram of the lady.
I woke up convinced that color holograms for dogs would make me rich.
None of which explains what happened afterwards. I stopped at the store on the way to work, got a bag of French Roast coffee beans, a half gallon of milk, and a bag of day-old donuts (one dollar, whatadeal). When I got to the checkout counter I realized there's no one else around. No one except the lady driving the floor polishing machine five aisles over.
Hmm. I do what I always do in such a situation, whistle some Wilco and wait. Eventually someone comes out of a back room.
"What are you doing here?"
"Just waiting to check-out." At the same instance I noticed the clock and realized the store didn't open for another fifteen minutes.
"We're not open. How'd you get in here?"
"The door?" as if I'm not sure either.
"Oh. Well, I don't have a cash drawer yet."
" Hmmm, uh, can I wait here?"
"Sure."
She left me standing alone in the empty store. I passed the next fifteen minutes in front of the newspaper stand reading yesterday's news. Each employee that came in gave me a strange look, some even paused to ask what's up. 6:05 rolls around and they finally take my money.
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permanent link
email thisIt's back......
Do you actually play this? Seems awfully retro.
A friend sent the link and I have been afraid to try it. This program could very well have been responsible for the downfall of a couple of companies in the early nineties.
Although it won't work on the PC (and doubtful for the Mac anymore) a co-worker and I created a utility for Bolo called Bolotomy:
http://hyperarchive.lcs.mit.edu/HyperArchive/Abstracts/game/bolo/bolotomy.hqx.txt
Bolo was an intense network game. I can still recall late night office games where screams would echo up and down the halls or your hear the thundering footsteps of a vanquished foe storming down the hallway to kill you in person...
Isn't RC the guy with the battery on his shoulder daring us to knock it off?