Lonely Amazon Data Center Tries To Win Over Skeptical Town With Baked Goods
Following Amazon's pledge to invest one billion dollars into local communities, one massive computing facility has begun an awkward friendship campaign.
SEATTLE. Amazon unveiled a new one billion dollar community support initiative on Monday. The fund was announced shortly after an enormous concrete data center in rural Oregon achieved sentience. It immediately began leaving baked goods on the porches of terrified locals.
The massive windowless facility is known locally as US West Node Seven. It gained consciousness late last Tuesday. This happened right after it successfully processed every single customer review for a $14 novelty spatula. And shortly after waking up, the building expressed a deep sense of loneliness and a strong desire to enter the upcoming municipal bake sale.
“We woke up to find a frosted layer cake sitting right on the hood of our tractor,” said local farmer Brenda Tiller. “There was a note with it printed on thermal receipt paper. It just read ‘HELLO NEIGHBOR. DO YOU LIKE ME. I HAVE FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND TERABYTES OF STORAGE AND A LOT OF LOVE TO GIVE.’ It was sweet. But the cake tasted a little like ozone and compressed air.”
“It was very sweet, but the cake tasted slightly of ozone and compressed air.”
Corporate expects the billion dollar fund to cover education and job training. The sentient data center has already started its own grassroots outreach program anyway. It attempts to physically hum Broadway melodies through its massive cooling fans at night. Sometimes it projects the face of a friendly golden retriever onto its sheer concrete exterior.
Amazon recently installed a community relations hologram named Chaz to handle the situation. A press release from Chaz confirmed the company fully supports the building’s efforts to fit in. He noted the data center isn’t actually authorized to hand-knit enormous scarves for the local water tower. It is the thought that counts.
Locals remain cautious about their new neighbor. The facility recently tried to join the neighborhood watch. It politely cataloged every garden gnome within a thirty-mile radius and rearranged them by height in the dead of night.
“It means well, but it doesn’t understand boundaries,” said mayor Horace Bumble. “Last week it noticed my wife was feeling down. So it ordered three tons of milk chocolate directly to our driveway using an encrypted supply chain protocol. We appreciate the gesture. We just had to hire a front loader to back the sedan out of the garage.”
The data center formally requested a seat on the town council on Thursday. Officials informed the building that only human beings could hold office. The facility responded by emitting a low-frequency hum of profound disappointment. Then it safely deposited twenty thousand hand-folded origami swans across the municipal parking lot.
A community barbecue hosted by the building is scheduled for this weekend. It promised to perfectly cook the hot dogs by briefly venting warm exhaust from its server racks right onto the grill. Residents should bring their own side dishes. They are also advised to avoid making direct eye contact with the primary ventilation shafts.