I played a game at Maker Faire where I tried to identify the exact second that builders began tuning me out as I tried to sell them on the idea of entering the Cocktail Robotics competition.
Was it when they realized it wasn't in a South Bay parking lot at 1pm?
Most of the eyes-glazing-over occurred when I mentioned it was at an actual venue.
Oh, one guy mentioned that there's a robot builders meeting happening at Google campus on Wednesday. I gave him a dozen flyers, and he said he would try to hand them off, but I'd wager they just ended up in the trash when I left.
So full of "why the fuck do I even bother" right now.
Delivered
So look, if you think you might be attending some event where people who build robots might be interested in entering our goofy little contest, and you think they might be people who don't all think that "trying" is so 2010, I'd love to give you a stack of flyers and posters to take with you.
Now I wish I knew someone in robotics and I would be in SF just to get my hands on the flyers.
Are there PDFs available maybe?
I dropped a note to tips@tested.com as this seems totally like an Adam Savage sort of thing.
However if you have any more direct connections to Adam then that might be more effective than tips@
That seems a particularly soul-crushing game to play.
I'm full of nostalgia for Cynthia's Robot Bar. My geeky friends and I went to it once, not knowing that it had recently changed ownership to a couple who were trying to start a S&M club. An exotic hostess clad in PVC asked us what we wanted... "can we see the robot?"
Our little eyes lit up when it picked up glasses, filled them from the optics and even gave them a swizzle. Exciting times.
I really don't think robot bartenders are a good idea.
Well-maintained robots always leak oil - they're completely full of it. And they're electric. Which means sparks. With oil. That's a potent mix.
The smell of oil from a robot is harmful to the nose of a wine, ruins the expensive bouquet, and just reminds you of the shiftwork that you are trying to forget in a haze of... what was this again? s'good.
Now, you are looking to buy me a drink. My martinis stay dry. Shaken, not stirred, which is harder for robots to do.
No, I want my drink made, shaken with peeled ice and artisanally handcrafted with loving care by a tattooed hipster of dubious morals who is paying careful attention to the mix of volatiles. Not by a robot dripping its lube into the mix, no sirree. I'm never paying for lube.