The other day, my wife and I went to one of our favorite places to get brunch. It was a busy day, so we were seated at a table that was right up against another table. This made it nearly impossible to not listen in on what your neighbor is talking about.

At the table to my right were two women, who we’ll call Steph and Mary. They seemed to be catching up on each other’s lives since the last time they met up. My ears first perk up when I hear Steph, say, “Yeah, so then I had ChatGPT make me a list, and like, label things on the list.” Mary is amazed by this. “Wow, you had it make a list! That’s so smart!” Mary was being genuine, folks.

Now, if you’re somehow unaware, I am ardently opposed to GenAI in nearly all forms, and will immediately think less of you if you admit to using it. Save for some very specific applications that the average person wouldn’t experience, there’s just no need for it. All that to say, at just this first snippet I overheard I was already not a fan of these two.

I tried to focus on the general cacophony of the restuarant, but my ears couldn’t help but pay attention to their converstation. Thankfully, Mary changes the subject away from AI, and begins talking about this neat lunchbox she got. She describes it as being a lunchbox with a battery pack that, at the press of a button, will heat up the food inside. Credit where it’s due, this sounds pretty cool.

Steph agrees that that’s cool, and asks Mary about what she uses it for. Mary tells her how she uses it mostly for bringing food to events like soccer games or football games. So far so good. Those seem like reasonable uses. Steph follows up by asking what foods she uses it for, and here’s where the trouble starts.

Mary gives a couple examples. “Oh you know, sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat - really anything”.

This then went on for thirty minutes.

Steph would ask about this food or that food, and Mary would reply, “Oh sure, you could do whatever you want. Sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat - really anything.”

Steph: “Blah blah blah”

Mary: “blah blah sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat - really anything”

At one point Mary pointed out a glaring flaw with the lunchbox. It does in fact have a finite capacity.

Mary: “blah blah sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat. But maybe not pasta. I don’t think you could fit enough in there for everyone.”

The coversation continues.

Steph: “Blah, blah blah blah”

Mary: “Yeah! Blah blah sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat. Really whatever you want”

Steph: “Blah, blah blah blah blah”

Mary: “Of course. Blah blah bláh sloppy joe meat, taco meat, chicken taco meat. Probably shouldn’t do pasta though.”

For thirty minutes this carried on, and that’s all they would talk about! And that’s all Mary could recommend the lunchbox for. Slopy joe meat. Taco Meat. Chicken taco meat. (Maybe not pasta though.) ((probably couldn’t fit enough in there.))

Steph closes off the conversation with, “Ugh, you are such a better mom than I am.” And with that, they left.

I admit that this story’s maybe a touch mean-spirited, but genuinely I don’t know how real people can have a conversation like this. This wasn’t some joke on their part best I could tell. To them, this was a truly involved and interesting topic. Furthermore, I don’t know how much the ground beef industry, or the taco seasoning industry maybe, is paying this woman to talk about sloppy joe meat, or taco meat, or chicken taco meat, but it must be pretty good money.

Now I wonder where I can buy me one of those lunchboxes. The Mrs. is making sloppy joe meat tonight.