Yesterday I ordered my lunch from an AI operating a drive-thru. It was fine. Banal. Boring even. A new experience that I think will become routine in the future.
The AI drive-thru operator isn’t cutting edge tech deployed in an upscale market to win over high value consumers. I live at the edge of a South Carolina city with a little more than 140,000 people. A booming metropolis with the best and the finest, it is not.
There’s a lot of local fast food fried chicken joints here and one of them is Bojangles. It’s mid. Better than KFC and not as good as Popeyes, Bojangles is fine if you’re hungry but you’ll forget the meal as soon as it’s done and you’ll never yearn for it. Last year the restaurant said it would deploy an AI agent at its drive-thru windows. It’s called, I shit you not, Bo-Linda and made by the Israeli tech firm Hi-Auto.
According to the Bojangles website, “Bo-Linda™ can take guest orders 96+% of the time with no human intervention,” and “improve overall satisfaction by offloading order taking from team members and providing a consistent guest experience.”
When Bo-Linda finally arrived in South Carolina, I went to see what the fuss was about. It was crushingly dull. A preview of a time in the near future, I think, when the AI bubble retracts and the agents are common. It took my order with an efficiency that, I’ll be honest, is not typical of the typical fast food worker. The worst part was its constant attempts to up-sell me.
“Do you want to upgrade your drink to our new water-melon iced tea?” It asked.
“No thank you.”
“Would you like to add our new peach cobbler for $1.99?”
“No thank you.”
“May I get you anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”“Would you like to round up for military scholarships?”“No thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you. Your total is $10.89.”
When 404 Media founder Joseph Cox watched the video of my interactions, he made fun of my “no thank yous.” What can I say? There’s an ingrained and often stifling politeness that’s bred into us in the American South. Even though I knew I was talking to a machine, I couldn’t not be nice to it.
My thought in the immediate aftermath is that the whole thing was painless. My order wasn’t complicated, but it was correct. The machine never stumbled over itself or asked for clarification. It knew what I wanted and the humans at the window gave it to me. A few conversations with friends and a quick scan of social media in the area show that other people have had much the same interactions with Bo-Linda.
The drive-thru AI, much like the chicken it sold me, is fine. Forgettable.
It was later, sitting at home, and doing a little research for the story that concerns popped up. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman has said that saying “please” and “thank you” to ChatGPT has cost the company tens of millions of dollars. How much water and energy had I burned being polite to Bo-Linda the chatbot?
Sometimes it feels like the answers to these questions don’t matter. We’re barreling forward into the AI future, whether we like it or not. Data centers are springing up across America and nuclear power plants are coming back online, so Bojangles can make a little more money and so people in the drive-thru can feel a little less friction before eating their meal.
This is how a new technology takes over, what it feels like right before it becomes ubiquitous. One day you wake up and the cameras are everywhere, able to recognize your face and chart your movements across the city you live in. One day you look up and everyone has their face buried in their phone. It happened by degrees, but so gradually you didn’t notice. There were signs along the way, dangers and warnings.
But mostly, it was fine, as boring and routine as ordering chicken at a drive-thru.
