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Still, humans were humans. They wanted you to know their opinions about your body, even if you hadn’t asked.
When it came to predicting what a person would find “tasty,” though, Cayenne had to account for more variables. Preferences could be affected by seemingly irrelevant details like where the human had lived, who had fed them as a child, how much money they had, and even their psychological health.
Food pointed humans to beloved moments in their memory heaps; it brought back the past as a visceral, living thing.
Hands and Cayenne made a broth for the man out of bird carcasses, onions, celery, and potatoes.
Love “carcasses” as a robot word choice
Nobody ever sat in the driver’s seat of a sentient car; it felt creepy, like climbing into the lap of a stranger.
light screens gleamed with images of the Californian flag, featuring a stoned-looking brown bear,
Lol
Humans had a ritual of putting things on, implanting things, to show who they were inside. She was on the opposite path, a simpler one, showing who she was on the inside by taking off the outer layers. Bots understood that. But humans couldn’t imagine nakedness as truth. They needed adornment.
Those are Vigilance Committee cranks who want to live in the 2020s again.
Even a few willowy white ladies from the gated towns of Marin drifted through to declare their satisfaction with the veganism of it all.
48 Hills, a venerable San Francisco publication, ran a big story about new restaurants and spotlighted their little operation as an example of “the best of the New Bay.”
OMG! Fangirling that 48 Hills and a reincarnation of “Best of the Bay” is in this <3
