We were all there, in the apartment, and the atmosphere had stagnated with the last drops of Beaujolais exiting the bottle.
I spoke first. “Where to now?”
“We could go to Pujol.”
“We could go to the park, it’s nice out.”
“Let’s go to that bar with the bad open mic.”
“Let’s get some more booze and watch a movie.”
“Hoops?”
Everyone turned and looked at Eveline, whom we all liked to call Vela. There were six of us, and all of us liked Hoops.
“We always go to Hoops.”
“Fucking love Hoops.”
“I was just there yesterday.”
“Really? Was it crowded?”
“Soo crowded. That’s when it sucks.”
A silence fell on us. We examined our desires. It was clear to me that Hoops was the right move, the one we could and would all agree on.
“It could be crowded tonight. I’d leave immediately if it was.”
“So would I. It’s a shit show when it’s crowded."
Flatbush leaned forward. “When I was there the other night, I had such an awful time. I really wished I had stayed home, basically the whole time I was there.”
“Why didn’t you leave then goofball?”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
Everyone laughed, but I got it. The reality is, some people are always going out, and some people are always staying in. The ones who always go out are, in some ways I think, very brave. Mostly, they feel the highest highs and the lowest lows. These highs and lows are surely balancing out at some equilibrium that is, one would think, having more fun than most. And the ones who are staying in are probably averaging less fun, though consequently they are less disappointed. Me, I play a mixed strategy - I go out, I stay in; I go around and do what I please, when I feel like it.
I spoke. “When it’s empty though, Hoops really is the best. We’ve all had the very best of times there, and mostly together too.”
Everyone nodded.
“The last time we went was great. The time before that was really crowded, if I remember correctly.”
“That sounds right. Actually, the time it was crowded, they could only let in four of us, remember? Flatbush and I went to the movies instead.”
I was still, to be honest, very jealous and upset that that Thea Rose-Gilchrist had gone to the movies with that smug-faced deviant clown Flatbush. It was a sore night for me.
“I do remember that! That was messed up.” Leonora always had very little to say, in my experience.
“Okay.” I stood up. “So, if it’s crowded we have a shit time, and if it’s not we have a blast. This is the Hoops dilemma.”
“Fucking christ.”
“It’s actually very simple. This is a game of minority rule.”
I had their attention now. And I explained it like this: in a majority rule, anything over 50% wins. But in a minority rule, anything under 50% wins. We could safely decide on going to Hoops if we could determine whether the bar was in minority rule; that is to say, had less than a 50% capacity. Anything over that was going to be a bad time.
“We have to think very closely about whether this city wants to have a good fucking time tonight. Because if it doesn’t, then we will.”
“Well there’s no way to determine that.”
I agreed. We had no knowledge of the other apartments in our neighborhood, let alone the entire city, potentially housing equally frustrated groups of young, sober thrill-seekers. Was the entire city converging on Hoops now, as we spoke? Was everyone looking for a well drink, a pinball machine, a sticky floor, a questionable DJ? It was just as likely as the place being empty, bone-dry; as silent as the dead sentinels of a darkened museum hall.
“The next best thing, then, is to determine the optimal strategy for maximizing fun and reducing disappointment. We don’t know who will be there, but what we do know is that it was crowded last night.”
Everyone began to murmur. “That doesn’t say anything.”
Rigoberto spoke. “No, it tells us that it’s less likely to be crowded tonight. People who went last night had a worse time than usual, so they’re unlikely to be back tonight.”
I stepped in. “And those who didn’t go last night, are generally less likely to go on any given night. So the odds of them going are more or less the same whether the place is crowded or not.”
Gilchrist was next. “But if everyone knows this, then everyone will have a bad time if they go tonight. Conversely, if everyone decides not to go, well the bar will be in a perfect position for us. Except we wouldn’t be there!” In that moment, I loved her with all my heart and I was deathly attracted to her.
We had reached a standstill. It had become clear that we were now against the entire city, and potentially against the world. We had to act in exactly the opposite of every other group of bums (“Bums!”, I yelled) who wanted a drink. But there was no conceivable way to be sure what that was. In order to have confidence in our action, we needed past evidence from past trips. But effectively every past trip to Hoops had become a Dark Age.
“We have a single data point.” I pointed at Flatbush. “It was crowded. You went. You didn’t have a good time, and if it wasn’t for us talking right now, you wouldn’t go back. Right?” He nodded. “We’ve got a good shot, I think."
Dorcas stretched out on the floor. “Let’s call a few more people then. I want to call—”
“No!” She didn’t get it at all, this girl!
“We are taking a risk even with the six we have here! Any more people and we increase the likelihood of getting turned away at the door, or bringing the capacity over 50%. Reaching a minority rule only to tip it into the majority would be the worst of all outcomes.”
I continued. “Actually, I think there’s a best strategy, which maximizes the fun shared optimally by everyone. And that is to split up into groups of 3, with some staying at home and others going to the bar. If we repeat the experiment daily, or weekly, switching the roles, it’s most likely that both groups will be picking the right choice most of the time—”
“We’re trying to go right now fag, not in a week!” I realized that I had slipped my mask, and I cautiously put it back on.
Rigoberto spoke. “No, I think that is incorrect actually. If we were indeed singly-minded actors playing a single objective game, then yes, possibly, but we are not. The best way to increase the stochastic optimum outcome would be to emulate the fixed points of standard replicator dynamics. That is to say, we should all be trying to go to the bar, every night, because it has the highest payoff for the most people.” At this, he reached for a pen and paper. I raised an objection but really, I didn’t understand what he had said.
He wrote it out on paper for me, and it looked like hieroglyphics. I asked him to explain, and found flaws in his argument, which I quickly pointed out. He retorted with more letters and symbols, to which I told him I don’t like his mumbo jumbo! We went back and forth for a while, and then, at that time, we realized that the rest of the apartment was empty.
I checked my phone and found a text from that old crust Flatbush. “We went to Pujol”. Me and Rigoberto went to the wine store and picked up a few more bottles.