the holographic bartender program

that the Down Lounge franchise subscribed to could be amusing, or it could be sort of a pain in the ass....the tired looking mousy blonde on the bar stool to my right was just trying to get a gin-and-tonic, but the holotender was giving her a whole song and dance....almost like the cyber-circuits were trying to hit on her....what sense does that make?

"Ah yes, the gin and the tonic, my dear." drawls the program in the accents of W.C. Fields, it's facial features fleetingly morphing to fit the voice.

"Affirmative" she mutters, holding her head up with a hand under her chin.

"With the tall glass and rocks and the lime wedge, the whole nine yards or what have you....by the way my dear what have you?" offers the silly machine, sounding like Groucho, all of a sudden sporting the wide painted on 'stash, eyebrows pumping, cigar flicking the illusion of ash.

The poor girl turns and looks at me with a drop-jawed helpless hang-dog expression of mounting dispair....

"Just get the lady the fucking drink, you two-bit piece of binary trash, or I'll kick your virtual butt clear into the n-dimension." says I.

"One generous tonic, coming right up!" says Jackie Gleason, in his barkeep persona....I forget his name in that sketch.....