My downstairs neighbor and I hit it off almost as soon as he moved in. Turns out we’re both huge geeks with just enough of an overlap in interests to loan each other books we don’t actually own. Yesterday, he loaned me something way better, though:
I know Roombas aren’t new, but it’s the first time I’ve had one in my own house, merrily chugging away. When you push the little button, it sings a happy little I’m-going-to-clean-your-floors song. When it chokes on an item of clothing you forgot to pick up off the floor, it sings a little HALP! song. When it’s all done making your floors shiny and clean, it sings a happy little I’m-done-cleaning-now song. And when it runs out of juice, it sings a sad little I’m-all-run-down song.
A few months ago, when they installed the new super-duper security gates in the downstairs lobby of my office building, I had an epiphany. We have little robot friends everywhere! The robots in the lobby read my RFID card, think a little while, and then beep and let me in. They’re posh robots, all stainless steel with some wood detailing and frosted-glass gates.
More and more people have little robot friends in their houses, chugging away sucking up dirt, mopping floors, or reading them their email. And the designers have wisely made them as cute as the DRDs from Farscape.
I can has robot frienz?