Coin Operated MySpace
February 2, 2008 – 5:20 amFor those who haven’t heard, Microsoft made a bid for Yahoo! to the tune of 44.6b. Apparently the absurdity of merging two mega-cultures is still a good idea despite being able to afford fancy MBAs. In more interesting news, I had a very bizarre dream last night which, within my dream, I analyzed what I encountered as a potential business idea. I call it…
The Coin Operated MySpace Kiosk at an Amusement Park.
It was really an odd dream. I was at some sort of SixFlags and I came into the dream at the point where I was approaching a kiosk/booth type area. As I got closer I took notice of a line of people wrapped around the free standing poles (the ones that signify a line) like a snake. It threw me off, “Was this a ride?” Dream Nathan wondered. Apparently I was actually excited about the thought of standing in a line that leads to a destination I’m unsure of, because I moved right up to the end of the line. I realize I could have looked at the sign to figure out just what it was I was standing in line for, but Dream Nathan didn’t give me that luxury, OK? So Dream Nathan decided to stay in line. I suppose it was because most amusement parks cause you to spend a better half of the time standing in lines to begin with, so he figured this was an exciting alternative (good thought, Dream Nathan). Makes you wonder just who’s being amused, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I patiently wait in line doing that slow inching movement that everyone seems prone to when they want to get from Point A to Point B but there’s too much crap in the way to do it quickly. You know, like when you’re driving and the person 2 cars in front of you pulls up like 5 inches, then the person 1 car in front of you pulls up, and then of course it’s your turn. At first you go against the flow, and then you can just hear the guy behind you screaming “COME ON! Everyone else pulled up 5 inches! Why did I have to get stuck behind the guy that doesn’t? Those 5 inches, nay, 12.7cm are imperative!” Giving in you pull up the 5 inches, and it was OK because somewhere deep down you had a sigh of relief, too.
After having patiently repeated a series of 5 inch crawls, I am finally at the point where the “next person in line” means something. “Hey! Next dude! You’re up!” a large, 18-ish Rastafarian guy shouts to me with quite a bit of exuberance (No lie, this dude was Rastafarian in my dream). The Exuberant Rastafarian is behind a khaki counter that stretches some 15 feet long, his 4 equally exuberant co-workers (Soccer Brunette, The Geek, Long Haired Beach Man, and Trendy Blond who looks trendy but at the same time looks and acts so untrendy it’s almost seductive) equally separated behind the counter. It’s at this point Dream Nathan hands The Exuberant Rastafarian a $5, with which The Exuberant Rastafarian gives me more quarters than I could possibly want. I curse Dream Nathan under my breath, who at this point I am realizing (as I write this) seems to take over my body at the points when I am confused within my own dream. I move past the long counter to the arcade type machines where I finally get a view of just what the hell it is I stood in line for.
The “MySpace” homepage shines brightly on the screen. I’m at a loss for words, thinking “What the f…?” to myself but I am still unable to prevent my rising excitement. It’s at this point I realize why the MySpace workers were so exuberant. Damn them, they wore off on me. I plop my coins down on the table and slide one into the coin-receiving-doodad. A second later I hear an immediate clank. I peer down at the change holder. I can feel the panic rising in me. “No! I won’t be able to login to MySpace at a remote kiosk in the middle of an amusement park!” I look to my right where there are at least 10 other people, all happily using MySpace, one frantically inserting more coins. I sighed a sigh of defeat, accepting the fact that I won’t be able to get onto MySpace and do, well, whatever it is we do on MySpace (I would have been specific, but really I am just not sure).
I left the kiosk with a lot of quarters and no MySpace access. I wondered briefly what Facebook’s kiosk would look like, but the image of people giggling as they poked the person next to them through Facebook rather than in real life made me die a little inside. A loud beep noise, which I thought signified something like my time being up, began to sound. I didn’t realize until a minute later that it was actually my alarm telling me to get out of bed and also asking me just what on earth I had for dinner the night before (Oh, it asked. No, I wasn’t still dreaming).
I thought my alarm clock asked a good question. For those of you also wondering, I had taco bell, sushi, beer, and BBQ chips before bed. Back off! It was left overs night, all right?
Update: Some people have decided to clue me in on the fact that such a kiosk at an amusement park would be silly because they could just put in WiFi. Thanks for the heads up! I’ll be sure to inject that thought for Dream Nathan the next time I decide to have a poor assortments of food before bed :-p
