M.I.A.

I discovered it too late, because Yahoo decided to drop the message from Linden Lab into the bulk folder, but there it was – disciplinary action has been taken against me. I’ll tell you what happened.

Last Saturday was one of the rare moments in the weekend that I am on Second Life. I was happily building away when someone on an IM channel said she was being flooded at Pooley. Out of couriousity I TP’d over and found myself knee deep (and more) in griefer cubes. Fine then – send an AR and get out. However, Doc Gascoigne called me at that moment for an urgent delivery of T-shirts for the new Mentors – the ones they had available read “Security” which is exactly what Mentors are not supposed to be. So I went off-world, forgot about building, and managed to make some hopefully acceptable shirts for the newly minted Mentors. Mind you, the grad party was already under way.

Back to the grid I went. I delivered the shirts to Mia Linden and got no reply. I IM’d Doc and got no reply. Thinking I had better go there myself I went over to the SL Volunteer Island complex, in the middle of which the party was in full swing. These are Mature rated islands that are furthermore off bounds to non-volunteers.

At the four sim crossing where the party was held, lag was terrible. I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t see properly, I couldn’t do anything. Four times or so I got close to Mia, but when I tried to get closer I ended up half a sim away. A very frustrating experience if you have an urgent message to deliver. And so, in my anger, I typed “Fuck this place” – or words to that effect, it had the word Fuck in it anyway – and clicked Shout. Remember, I was in a complex of Mature and furthermore private sims.

Then Mia got to me, thanking me for the shirts, and in the same breath berating me for what I just shouted across the party. That’s just typical, I thought, and I first told her that I was in a Mature sim (and I added a smiley) after which she told me she knew the guidelines very well. “You know what, Mia?” I said next. “AR me.” I knew it could cost me my Mentorship but at that time I really didn’t care anymore. She said she would, and apparently she did. Being that I am hardly ever in Second Life on weekends, I never noticed until I found that mail. I am still a Mentor – apparently one can be disciplined and maintain Mentorship.

A stressful hour, beginning with griefer cubes, a request I happily (and at the cost of 20 of my own Linden dollars for uploading) and swiftly obliged to, the insane lagginess of that party I only went to because of those damn shirts, and the non-responsiveness of people you just finished an urgent assignment for, was reason for me to say ‘fuck’.

Mia Linden does not understand this. Mia Linden never says ‘fuck’ even though she has a New York accent broader than that of Fran bloody Drescher. Mia Linden is an absolutely saintly person – and therefore hasn’t the slightest idea of how real people react to things. She would have reacted with a hearty ‘Golly!’ or an honest ‘Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!’ and that would be all – because nothing is going to knock her train of happy, positive thoughts off the rails, don’t you know.

I am still a Mentor. But I am wondering why I would be volunteering for Mia, or doing anything for her at all, for that matter. If she is so fucking saintly I am sure she can conjure up happy T-shirts for all to wear while being immersed in griefer cubes, loudmouth newbies demanding help and Waterhead regulars calling her a nigger bitch. And so she really doesn’t need me to do all that for her. Because that’s what I fucking do out there - taking shit for the Lindens. Every goddamn day.

So Mia, next time you need anything at all for your happy band of volunteers sending positive rays all over the grid, don’t come asking. You know the reply, girl. It starts with F.

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