"I Do Part-Time Work for YouTube..."
The last time I went to The Alibi I got mugged, at gunpoint, on my way home.
"Oh
The Alibi," detective Gonzalez said the next day at the as he filled
out the crime report. A poster behind him read 88th Precinct, Best
Detectives in the World. "One wallet, black. One credit card. One
driver's license. Thirty dollars? So if he had a firearm that's
technically a robbery. But yeah man, The Alibi. I used to roll there,
man. Last I heard some guy walked in with a gun."
Same place. Probably same guy. And there I was again, couldn't sleep, and had walked down the block for a nightcap. Now I was understandably apprehensive about leaving. So I slouched down at the end of the bar under the television, which was hanging from the low, tin ceiling by chains, and watched people come and go.
So this girl comes in, black sweater and burberry skirt, sits down beside me, and orders a Guinness. We talk, and after a while she asks what I do. I'm independently wealthy, I said. That's why I gave my wallet to the last guy I met. How about you.
"Well I do part-time work for YouTube, but I'm not supposed to talk about that."
Oh. Hello.
"I help with their filters."
Have another drink.
"The stuff they're getting sued over, you know? I'm part time. There's a bunch of us distributed and stuff, working from home or wherever. So they give us queries and we check whether the videos that match the queries are appropriate. Like, so, we get a list, like names of things, shows, just regular words."
Huh. I always wondered about that. I mean, I'm just a guy sitting under a TV set, but I thought they couldn't have any knowledge of what's in their database. Because if they did, and they saw that something was copyrighted content, they'd have to pull it. Do you make notes if you run across TV shows?
"If it's not an appropriate result for what we're searching for. And sometimes we have to check for porn. Because they don't allow porn on the site."
Huh. So. My name's Steve. Can I have your number?
...to be continued
Same place. Probably same guy. And there I was again, couldn't sleep, and had walked down the block for a nightcap. Now I was understandably apprehensive about leaving. So I slouched down at the end of the bar under the television, which was hanging from the low, tin ceiling by chains, and watched people come and go.
So this girl comes in, black sweater and burberry skirt, sits down beside me, and orders a Guinness. We talk, and after a while she asks what I do. I'm independently wealthy, I said. That's why I gave my wallet to the last guy I met. How about you.
"Well I do part-time work for YouTube, but I'm not supposed to talk about that."
Oh. Hello.
"I help with their filters."
Have another drink.
"The stuff they're getting sued over, you know? I'm part time. There's a bunch of us distributed and stuff, working from home or wherever. So they give us queries and we check whether the videos that match the queries are appropriate. Like, so, we get a list, like names of things, shows, just regular words."
Huh. I always wondered about that. I mean, I'm just a guy sitting under a TV set, but I thought they couldn't have any knowledge of what's in their database. Because if they did, and they saw that something was copyrighted content, they'd have to pull it. Do you make notes if you run across TV shows?
"If it's not an appropriate result for what we're searching for. And sometimes we have to check for porn. Because they don't allow porn on the site."
Huh. So. My name's Steve. Can I have your number?
...to be continued
