Asking For An Alt

Three Readers. Three Dilemmas. One Questionable Adviser.

Welcome to Asking for an Alt, where virtual lives come with real dilemmas, and everyone swears they’re asking for a friend.

“He Only Has Eyes For My Elbow”

From: Loved In High Resolution

Dear Asking,

My boyfriend takes beautiful Second Life photographs. When we first started dating, I loved being in them. Romantic sunsets, stolen kisses, gorgeous little getaways, it felt like being courted by a man with excellent lighting.

Now, every date seems to turn into a photo shoot.
We can’t dance without stopping to adjust our hands. A cuddle requires three pose changes and a different head angle. Last week, he asked me to change my hair because it was “fighting the composition.” Apparently, the composition is winning, because it gets considerably more attention than I do.

He posts our pictures with lovely captions, and everyone comments on what a romantic couple we are. Meanwhile, I’m remembering the forty minutes we spent discussing where my elbow should go.

I know photography matters to him, and I don’t want him to stop including me. But how do I explain that I miss the dates we appear to be having?

Signed,
Loved in High Resolution

Dear Loved in High Resolution,

Darling, the minute a man tells me my hair is fighting the composition, I’m taking my hair’s side. She and I have been together longer.

I suspect he still thinks he’s courting you. Those early photos made you feel adored, and he may have no idea how much you miss what happened between the pictures. You said it beautifully yourself. “I miss the dates we appear to be having.” I’d tell him that before your next night out.

Try this. “I love our photos, and I still want to pose with you. But sometimes you pull me close and I get butterflies, and then it turns out you need me two inches to the left. Take me dancing Friday? I’d love a whole evening where you pull me close just because you want me there.”

When he has a picture in mind, let him ask, “Fancy doing a shoot tonight?” You might well say yes. And when he asks you to dance, you get to stay in his arms long enough to flirt, finish a story, or find out where that kiss was going.

Besides, there are far more interesting reasons for a man to whisper “a little lower, sweetheart.” Shame to waste it on an elbow.

Yours behind the sunglasses,
Asking for an Alt

“My Best Frond Has Attachment Issues”

From: Available Does Not Mean Available,

Dear Asking,

My best friend seems to think that the moment I log into Second Life, I’ve clocked in for our friendship.
Before my clothes have finished rezzing, there’s an IM asking where we’re going. If I say I’m shopping alone or just want a quiet evening, I get, “Oh. I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” Somehow, that little sentence comes with enough guilt to fill an entire region.

She was there for me during a rough patch, and I genuinely love spending time with her. But sometimes I want to wander somewhere without company, explanations, or a full itinerary. Recently, she spotted me at a club after I’d said I wanted time to myself and acted like she’d caught me having an affair.

Does wanting to be alone mean I have to sit in an empty skybox? How do I keep my friend without surrendering custody of my login?

Signed,
Available Does Not Mean Available

Dear Available Does Not Mean Available,

Darling, you can take yourself dancing. Sometimes you want good music, a little people-watching, and the luxury of slipping out after three songs without the traditional twenty-minute Second Life goodbye. Save the empty skybox for trying on demo pants.

I can see why that little “Oh” gets to you. She showed up when you needed her, and the last thing you want is for her to feel pushed aside. But if you keep saying yes just to spare her feelings, eventually you’ll start sighing when her name pops up. That’s a conversation worth having while you’re still glad to hear from her.

Pick a night when you’re already enjoying each other’s company and say, “I love our nights out, and I still remember how you kept me company when things were rough. Some nights I like logging in with no plan and seeing where I end up on my own. When you got upset about seeing me at the club, I felt like I had to account for my evening. Can you trust me when I say I’d like a night to myself?”

Give her room to tell you how she feels. Then, the next time she says, “I guess I’ll leave you alone then,” a warm “Thanks, love. I’ll catch you later” will do. Go enjoy your evening. And on a night when you do want company, send the first IM yourself. There’s a lot of affection in “Get your shoes on. I found a place you’re going to love.”

Yours behind the sunglasses,
Asking for an Alt

“Date Night, Pending Pedigree”

From: Third Wheel To Sir Biscuit

Dear Asking,

My partner asked if we could get “a couple of breedable cats” for our Second Life home. I said yes because I am a loving, supportive partner and, apparently, a spectacular idiot.

We now have forty-three.
There are cats in the bedroom, cats on the kitchen counters, and something called Sir Biscuit of Butterscotch occupying my favourite chair. Last night, I tried to arrange a romantic evening, but she couldn’t join me because someone was about to produce “very important ears.”

I don’t know what makes ears important. Mine have been listening to this for weeks and haven’t received any recognition.
When I suggested cutting back, she brought up my six motorcycles. That felt unfair. My motorcycles don’t reproduce while we’re at a concert.

She says the cats are an investment. So far, the return appears to be more cats.

How do I reclaim our love nest without becoming the villain of her breeding programme? She’s already suggested renting more land, and I’m afraid she means a small parcel where I can live.

Signed,
Third Wheel To Sir Biscuit

Dear Third Wheel To Sir Biscuit,

Darling, my first instinct was to suggest wearing a pair of those rare ears to bed. Then I pictured you standing there in your best underwear while she IMs a stranger, “Lovely markings, yes, but I’d have to check the mother’s side.” Maybe leave the ears off.

I’m ruling in your favour on the motorcycles. The day you leave two of them alone in the garage and come home to a baby Vespa, she can appeal.

Before either of you starts shopping for land, tell her what you miss. “Come dancing with me Friday, gorgeous. I want you to myself for a couple of hours, and I’ve got something to whisper in your ear that would get me ejected if I typed it in local.”

Ask for a date like that once a week. As for the other six nights, agree on how many cats you can both enjoy sharing a home with. She gets first pick of her favourites, the kittens she’s ready to part with can go to new homes, and the matchmaking takes a breather. Frankly, yours is the only love life on that parcel that could use a little encouragement.

Let Sir Biscuit have the chair on Friday. If that whisper does its job, you’ll be walking straight past the living room anyway.

Yours behind the sunglasses,
Asking for an Alt

That’s a wrap for this edition of Asking for an Alt! Go dancing solo without filing an itinerary with your bestie, and kiss your sweetheart while your elbow’s still two inches out of place. As for getting your favorite chair back, Sir Biscuit of Butterscotch put it to a vote. You lost, darling. Forty-three to one.

And if this week’s drama sounds suspiciously familiar, don’t panic. We’ll tell everyone it was your alt.

Yours behind the sunglasses,
Asking for an Alt

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