Shopping, Not Shopping, and One Perfect Metaphor

It occurs to me, not for the first time, that so much of the grid is one shopping place after another. I realize everyone needs to pay the rent, but it seems odd that clothings and objects can be monetized in a way that other types of entertainment cannot.

I found myself in a shop called Old Time Prims, which sells a small number of outfits from the twenties through the forties. (That's the nineteen 20s through 40s, for those still in the Victorian Era.) One would think that the architecture of that era would be interesting to a number of people, or the cars from the era, the warplanes, something other than gingham dresses and sensible shoes. If those other things generate interest, they certainly do not generate income, and so I stand in a perfectly nice house, looking at perfectly nice clothes.

Along with Miss Micki Anthony. Now, perhaps she enjoys different eras, but she didn't really strike me as a 40s kind of gal:


I spent some time flying across Zindra, looking at what the Lindens had installed. The North Resevoir, in the Laffoon sim, had a concrete pumping station. Inside, barrels of toxic waste leaked, and apparently spawned some interesting wildlife:

I call him "Torley." Anyway, finding a giant pink frog amidst a bunker full of toxic sludge seemed to epitomize Zindra.