(no subject)

[timesbureaucrat]

On the top floors of this resort, in the conference rooms and penthouse suites, even now the politicians and diplomats are discussing whether or not they'd like to go gallivanting around our universes, and we aren't allowed even a cursory peep at what they're talking about, much less a formal seat at the table.

[Small grenade of political discontent lobbed, Narvin switches topic.]

Also, I want to make it known preemptively that yes, I am a technician and computer specialist, but no, I will not fix your personal computer, communicator, speeder, spawner, or whatever else you brought with you. I'm a researcher, not a common mechanic. [Actually, he might fix your computer, if he likes you. But Narvin doesn't like many people as a general rule. He also might offer to repair it if he thinks that you might have interesting files on your files that he might hack, but that's another matter.]

Comments

[timesbureaucrat]

[Her words cool Narvin's ire considerably. He's been on the mouth end of saying just the wrong thing at the wrong moment a considerable number of times himself. And it was more the universe he was angry at than her anyway. She just had the misfortune of saying something that reminded him of his troubles.

So he chooses to take the conversation in an entirely new direction. Or at least in an apparently new direction.]

How old are you?

[It doesn't occur to him that in some cultures, this is a rude question.]