The tall dutch airhost saw my ticket. San Francisco?! Oh my god. I'm sorry for you. Your seat's that way.
I sat there for some time. The plane landed at Schiphol. I walked out of the exit door and through the aerobridge, and found myself at the gate for the next flight. A middle aged Goan started chatting with me. Works at the ship, he said. He was flirting with me, a fact I didn't pick up on until he mentioned that we "do something" in the bathroom. I politely declined.
I walked through the boarding gate, which took me to a Mediterranean fast food place in a shady part of SoMa. I was with my colleague, and I saw my brother walk in. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen him in a long time. He only wanted soup. There was shouting outside.
We walked out. It's too shady here, my brother said. Let's book cabs. Our Lyft arrived. When I got inside it was suddenly daytime. The bearded driver jovially asked us to say Hi to Chewbacca. I looked back to see a random fuzzy monkey-esque soft toy, and I chuckled. I'm having the best day ever, he said. Glad to catch you in this mood, I said. Yeah I broke up with my girlfriend. He spoke about how his daughter (how stupid is she) working at the bar is secretly an alcoholic, but she won't admit it.
I had to awkwardly end the conversation as I deboarded. This was at an San Jose dinner party. I saw an old close friend (who I lost touch with for a bit) win an award for his conference paper just as I entered the restaurant courtyard. A waiter walking around showed me a tray with a drink and I took it. I realised I didn't want one. Over the barbeque flames, the head of AI at a popular database company talked about how much he hated that shit. And then made a job offer to my old friend's friend sitting beside me. It was cold. I stared at the fire.
I went back to our hotel room. This hotel had room service robots that looked like dustbins with wheels. The lift door opened, and one of these robots rushed into the lift. Ladies first, said the man beside me with the accompaniment of an eyebrow dance. I grabbed my things from the room and went to meet my brother for his birthday party. We ate italian food and then went to a donut place which was apparently the only thing open this late. It was a shitty donut, and a disheveled drug addict at the front of the line was demanding something incoherent. A group of east asians behind us were striking up a conversation about who knows what with one of my brother's friends, but it was boisterous. I went back to the hotel room.
This hotel had room service robots that looked like dustbins with wheels and they made beeping sounds. The lift door opened, and one of these robots rushed into the lift. On getting off, I found myself in the top floor of the conference venue in Hilton, San Jose. I was tired. There was too much talking in this conference. I met well-known people I would have never imagined I'd ever meet, and like other people, they were people. I pitched myself and my work for the hundredth time to this man. Oh you're from CMU? Oh no I'm not. I'm not even an academic. I'm actually not even from here.
I walked down into the VIP lounge with all those famous people again. I only vaguely remember how I got access. A famous AI researcher with a thick greek accent looked at me and my shirt. Are you from Laude? Oh no I'm not. Oh your shirt made it look like that. I asked him a question about his research. I forgot his answer, it was noisy. Your shirt (a plain black shirt with a logo in the corner) is nice eh? Can I take your picture? I gave a confused nod, and he took a landscape photo of me (not a selfie) on his phone and walked off. The room was lit a shady pink, and Mr Andy (of Laude) was in the conference room yapping and having a podcast recorded. I walked to the hotel's cafe to get away from all the stimulation. I'd continue to hear an offscript podcast from him as he talked to two people a few tables away.
I saw a man eating a fries and burger in the cafe. I know he was Josh and Josh was involved in organising this conference. I waded through my fog of jet lag to meet him and said something about the conference logo. He was very excited about the logo and told me all about how it came together. I was excited too hearing about this, and now I have forgotten what he told me.
I walked out to meet an old friend, and hopped in his car. I used to worry about him because he had a negative outlook to life. I used AI to get laid, he told me. This woman was very hippie, and I learnt about birds and used that to woo her. We drove to the salt flats. The cold wind was blowing and the chilliness cut through my mental haze. I watched the california gulls flock near the deep red water. So you still talk to her? I ask. He shrugs and tells me that she ghosted him, and that she probably sensed something was off.
He drops me back, and I go through the BART in Japan town. I'm holding on to a 14kg bag and a $100 poster.
I went to an office party in SF that I was invited to. I knew no one there, except the founder from the conference booth who invited me there. I saw detroit style pizza, and a bartender who was hired for this event. An indian uncle latched on to me and started talking about his startup and his bar for talent. Another founder was next to him encouraging him to keep talking. His encouragement was unfortunately accompanied by bad breath. I was asked a question. I answered the question. The answer was dismissed and the man continued talking. I was reminded of the party that I would have in the future where people dressed as Orcs, held lightsabers to sell SaaS, and another Indian unc was selling me a database that I had no immediate use for. He was also incorrect about how that database worked.
Another person from a bigtech company struck a conversation with me. He then walked me to three women and told me what I do. All three were nodding vigorously and playacting a lot of curiosity. I awkwardly entertained this and explained what I do, and I realised that I don't actually identify myself with whatever I'm telling them.
I thanked the host for hosting me and I walked out and booked a cab to meet my brother and his wife and their friend at a bar in the corner. My $100 poster was getting dragged and pulped by the grime of san francisco.
It had been a while since I had a clear thought. I got to the airport and waited as Delta screwed up and overbooked the flights. A dad bid goodbye to their kid as they got separated. I was sat next to a person who had a recurse center tshirt. I asked him about recurse center. He had just joined Anthropic. We started talking about our respective nation's cultures while zooming in and pointing to the maps on the inflight entertainment system. We spoke for five hours straight until we landed in NYC. I took his number, so that I could tell him where to get egg shaved fuschka in Flushing, Queens, which is the best pani puri I have ever eaten. I never ate Pani Puri in NYC this time around.