[There's something depressing about a robotic dog.
No wonder how realistic and oh-so-fluffy their fur is supposed to be, no wonder how they mill about in circles and yip and flop over onto their back for pets-- it's not the same. The wetness of the nose is just this side of off and the eyes are entirely too focused, like the manufacturer of the robotic-pet wanted to make absolutely sure they didn't look too goofy. Which is stupid, because the dumb goofiness is one of the best parts of dogs. That and how brave and loyal they are, how they just know, how they'll wiggle with barely-contained excitement at even the shortest glimpse of food--
Shit. Maybe this job selling fake-dogs to people was a bad idea.
Right now, he's got his arms folded on the completely unnecessary pen set up, where a bunch of fake puppies and fake dogs either "snooze" or "play-wrestle" or look at passer-bys out the window with their hyper-focused cameras, complete with facial recognition and whatever the fuck else to make the dog a 'perfect' pet. Being completely artificial, there's no food to fill or water to freshen or need for walks or attention or anything- so he's mostly killing time in one of the lulls the shop has, watching faux-existence of the pooches.]
I can't stand how weirdly perfect these things are. [He finally grumbles out a complaint to the other man on the sales floor with him-- some other dude who showed up from another time- decent guy, though Shinjiro didn't really acknowledge him a whole lot in his first few days after getting hired on here.]
Like-- Did they guys who came up with this ever even see a dog? They get this gross black shit hangin' out their eyes and drool everywhere and eat string and gotta piss on everything they see. Not just... whatever this is. [It's said with a frustrated gesture at where one of the robotic dogs has apparently had a glitch and just keeps lifting a paw, going for the 'shake' command over and over. Which he should probably go fix, but fuck it, he doesn't really need a job.]
how much is that canine automaton in the window
No wonder how realistic and oh-so-fluffy their fur is supposed to be, no wonder how they mill about in circles and yip and flop over onto their back for pets-- it's not the same. The wetness of the nose is just this side of off and the eyes are entirely too focused, like the manufacturer of the robotic-pet wanted to make absolutely sure they didn't look too goofy. Which is stupid, because the dumb goofiness is one of the best parts of dogs. That and how brave and loyal they are, how they just know, how they'll wiggle with barely-contained excitement at even the shortest glimpse of food--
Shit. Maybe this job selling fake-dogs to people was a bad idea.
Right now, he's got his arms folded on the completely unnecessary pen set up, where a bunch of fake puppies and fake dogs either "snooze" or "play-wrestle" or look at passer-bys out the window with their hyper-focused cameras, complete with facial recognition and whatever the fuck else to make the dog a 'perfect' pet. Being completely artificial, there's no food to fill or water to freshen or need for walks or attention or anything- so he's mostly killing time in one of the lulls the shop has, watching faux-existence of the pooches.]
I can't stand how weirdly perfect these things are. [He finally grumbles out a complaint to the other man on the sales floor with him-- some other dude who showed up from another time- decent guy, though Shinjiro didn't really acknowledge him a whole lot in his first few days after getting hired on here.]
Like-- Did they guys who came up with this ever even see a dog? They get this gross black shit hangin' out their eyes and drool everywhere and eat string and gotta piss on everything they see. Not just... whatever this is. [It's said with a frustrated gesture at where one of the robotic dogs has apparently had a glitch and just keeps lifting a paw, going for the 'shake' command over and over. Which he should probably go fix, but fuck it, he doesn't really need a job.]