Welcome back to our exciting (if not a little strange) Second Life adventure. To make sure you’re all caught up, make sure you’ve read our first, second, and third installments on this delightfully delicious adventure. We can wait.
All right, waiting is for jerks, let’s go.
When I logged back in, I was still cold chilling at the Botanical Gardens. Sunrise was fast approaching. It was time for me to be on my way and for the journey to continue. I had scheduled myself to check out some of the political headquarters here in Second Life. But first, I’ve got to tweak my outfit for it.
There. I put on the free t-shirt I got from the house party last night and gave myself some bell-bottoms, perfect attire for political functions. Now all we need is an obligatory flying away from the gardens during sunrise shot.
I cued up my search and typed in “politics”. Why was I doing this again? Maybe I just wanted some substance and to know it wasn’t just people logging on to watch their avatars dance awkwardly.
I found…Mike Gravel? Isn’t he out of the race? I did like some of his crazy talk at those debates. Maybe I can head over there and drudge him up some support. He might need it.
This place is deadsville. It’s a good thing I have my torch, I don’t think he’s paid the electric in a while. I shouted, but no one was around to hear. You could actually hear crickets. Poor Mike. Best of luck in another four years, you crazy Alaskan coot. I should probably skip out of here before I get bored and start reading his poorly rendered leaflets. Let’s see who else we can find.
I found Hilary. Well, the “unofficial” headquarters that is. I wonder if she got official somewhere else. I hit the teleport button and braced myself.
It’s just as deserted as Gravel’s. I shouted greetings, only to fall on no one’s ears. The “unofficial” Hilary has a whole island to herself. It’s a little more whimsical than Gravel’s. I was hoping there would be more robots, though.
It’s a rally for hope, but all hope seems lost around here. Why aren’t these politicians connecting to today’s Second Life youth? They need to get DJ Thom in here. He’ll bring them twerking from miles.
She has her own private jet and limo on the island, not really connecting to the common Second Life man there. She also hired a dolphin, for the ladies. I tried stealing the car and jet of course, but no luck. The dolphin wasn’t offering any rides either. So much for doing flips and shit, I’m going to see what moneybags keeps in the plane.
There are some chairs, a wide screen TV, and a bunch of 2-D booze. This must be where the interns and Bill hang out. I gaze up at my mini map, and from this angle the island looks like Pac Man eating a pellet. Neat!
Maybe Second Life swings more to the right. I should check out some republican sites. Maybe the kids are getting down with fiscal responsibility. I did a search and came up with…Ron Paul? Oh geez. OK, it can’t be deader than these last two.
I was dead wrong. I tried shouting the benefits of socialized medicine, but no one was around to call me a beta cuck. Damn it.
The only good thing about this void of a place is that it was on a mainland and not some isolated island. I wouldn’t have to teleport to leave. A pox on politics, I’m going walkies.
I met a lady on a rooftop shortly after leaving Ron Paul’s joint. Her name was Charlot Dickins.
We exchanged hellos and she asked me why I was flying around with a giant flashlight. I said, “Oh, he’s not a flashlight. He’s a torch. I rescued him from Orientation Island. He’s my sidekick on my adventures.”
She seemed amused by this, “OK. What’s his name?”
“Uhh, you know, I never asked him,” I say.
“How about Torchy?” she suggests.
“That’s perfect,” and it was.
We chatted for a little bit more. I told her I had been checking out political headquarters. She asked, “Why would you do that?” and I didn’t have a good answer, other than I was making up this shit as I go. She laughed, and we said goodbye.
That was the first decent, sane person I’ve met so far. My spirits were up. I looked on my mini map to see if anyone else was around. I saw a cluster of people up the road. I decided to go check it out.
(Takei voice “Oh my”) It appears I’ve stumbled onto a brothel. Just a little up the road from a republican headquarters, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. Well, I guess since I’m here, I might as well look around. You know, for journalistic purposes.
It’s not long before I’m approached by one of the ladies. You can read our interaction above, but the tl;dr version is: No money, no honey.
Now I’m wondering what the incentive is to becoming a sex worker in Second Life. Maybe you can cash in the money you make here in the real world? I decided these are mysteries I don’t want to solve yet. I’m just going to go with the flow and lurk a little.
I find a “make out” ball in the corner and proceed to get to know Torchy a whole lot better. We are on a first name basis now, thanks to Charlot. But, no one seemed turned on by our display and joined in. I guess kissing costs extra.
After a good session, we decided to consciously uncouple. On our way back we saw Charlot still on that rooftop and I told her about our experience. We all had a good laugh. We said goodbye again, and it was time for me to log out. Maybe when I come back she’ll still be there, and I can tell her about the time someone turned my pelvis turned into a bar of soap.
Tune in next time for…
Part Five: Guns, Revenge, & German Discotheques
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