Eliza was lured into being by the idea of a Coldplay concert. Coldplay had performed in Second Life as a way to promote Barack Obama’s presidential campaign, though she hadn’t been born in time to attend. In this she was similar to her typist who had been born in 1970, a year to the day after Woodstock.
Curiosity had already taken hold however, and she appeared, fish to water, wearing a pink polka dotted dress and short ponytail, to see what might be seen. Which wasn’t much, at first. Moving her way through a dry tutorial, following gigantic arrows, typing gestures toward other figures that also seemed quite lost, wasn’t what she had in mind at all.
Maybe she found the coffee shop first, or the London clothing store, where she paired a wildly pouffy flowered dress with bold tribal tattoos. At which point she went nowhere for about a week, one morning spending about two hours just standing near a bench, just clicking profiles and listening to others chat.
She didn’t initiate conversations, startled to find herself rather shy.
It was in front of the coffee shop that someone first requested Eliza’s friendship, and took her to find a more suitable walk than SL’s then default, duck waddle. The walking animation, worn like a piece of clothing, felt too sensual at first, quite strange. Yet it was that feeling that began to register her senses as an avatar, giving traction, urging her to stay in and continue to explore. She browsed more stores, but also found poetry and book sites, then an Irish Pub. She was asked to dance, and experienced a parade.
Lounging at Shakespeare’s Sister, perusing shelves and listening to others coming and going, she realized that not only was the world actually interesting in and of itself, but bursting with souls she might know and learn from.
Next: Chapter Three – Buddha on the Road