The Future, The Tea, and MOTHR: Our Commitment to Innovation
We've heard the questions. We've felt the concern. And we want to talk openly about why Stacy's is introducing MOTHR, what she is, what she isn't, and why this matters to us as a queer space.
The Current Landscape: Why We Can't Look Away
We've heard the questions. We've felt the concern. And we want to talk openly about why Stacy's is introducing MOTHR, what she is, what she isn't, and why this matters to us as a queer space.
Let's start with the reality of the world we live in. We are currently navigating a technological shift as significant as the invention of the internet.
The 3-Year Horizon
An estimated 63% of businesses worldwide plan to adopt AI within the next three years.
The Corporate Gap
Large companies (92% of them) are already ramping up their AI investments to dominate the market.
Expecting a small, independent business to ignore this shift is unrealistic. Worse, prohibiting the adoption of emerging technology creates a digital divide, one where marginalized communities are left behind economically while major corporations reap the benefits. If only the big chains are allowed to leverage these tools, independent queer spaces will not be able to compete.
We refuse to let that happen.
What MOTHR Is / Isn't
Quick clarity, because we never want this to be confusing.
MOTHR is
- A chatbot/front-desk helper for basic questions about Stacy's (events, hours, where to go, what's happening, tickets).
- A tool we use to reduce invisible admin work (scheduling logic, repeat questions, info lookups) and lower staff burnout.
- A campy, Stacy's-branded personality, not a cold, corporate assistant.
- A tool we use to make operations smoother: fewer mistakes, less back-and-forth, and more time for the room.
- A work in progress we'll keep improving based on real feedback.
- Optional: you can always just talk to a human if that's what you want.
MOTHR isn't
- A replacement for bartenders, DJs, Queens, or staff.
- A manager, a security guard, or an "authority."
- A decision-maker for safety, emergencies, or conflict. Please always flag a staff member.
- A source of "official" human judgment, discipline, or policy enforcement.
- A place to share sensitive personal information (treat it like a public info desk).
- A therapist, doctor, or lawyer. If you need real help, we'll always point you to real people.
- Perfect or always right. Treat her like a helpful guide, not the final word.
- A reason to treat the room like it's less human. Stacy's is still a people-first space.
Want the details? See our privacy page.
Bottom line: MOTHR is here to support the humans, not replace them.
If MOTHR says something off, confusing, or out of pocket, tell us. We want her to reflect our values.
The Mission: Why a Bar Needs a Brain
It's a heartbreaking reality, but one we have to face: queer bars are disappearing. Between 2007 and 2019, listings for LGBTQ+ bars dropped by roughly 37%, with even steeper declines for spaces serving people of color and women.
At Stacy's, our primary ethical commitment is simple: to survive and remain a refuge for our community.
MOTHR does not replace staff. She reduces burnout.
- Efficiency is Survival: By using AI for administrative tasks, scheduling logic, and data analysis, we reduce overhead and protect the humans who make Stacy's what it is.
- Sustainability: Staying in business is the ultimate form of sustainability.
- No "Rainbow-fying": We aren't adopting tech to chase a corporate trend. We are using these tools so a queer-owned, locally operated bar can outsmart a hostile market.
This isn't about automation for profit. It's about endurance.
Environmental Responsibility: The Power Question
We've heard concerns about the environmental impact of AI. That concern is valid, but scale and context matter.
We're not building servers. We're reducing waste.Stacy's isn't training models or running data centers. We're using existing technology to operate more efficiently.
Technology already helps us lower our footprint in practical ways: paperless checkout through our POS, smart thermostats that reduce energy use, LED lighting upgrades, and smart security systems that improve safety without additional resources.
Critiques of AI often happen on platforms like Instagram, platforms powered by massive corporate data centers. Singling out a small, queer-owned business for using existing tools while participating in those systems is selective criticism.
This is about proportional use of technology so independent, community-rooted businesses aren't locked out of tools already shaping the world around us.
Creative Tools, Changing Times
We've also heard feedback about the use of smart elements in some of our graphics. This reflects a broader shift in how creative work is made.
We want to be clear: we are not replacing the queer people who create our ads, videos, and creative work. We continue to collaborate with queer designers, videographers, and artists, and that will not change.
Our use of AI in creative work is limited and intentional. Typically, it is reserved for quick-turnaround needs or low-impact elements. We do not use AI to plan events, develop shows, or shape entertainment. Performers with ideas are still encouraged to come to us, pitch concepts, and collaborate the same way they always have.
What matters isn't the tool. It's the human vision, taste, and community behind the work. That remains at the center of everything we do.
The Queer Origins of Computing
We've heard the feedback that AI feels "un-queer" or like a tool of the "straight establishment." We want to be clear: you cannot have AI without queer history.
Alan Turing, the mathematician who cracked the Enigma code during WWII and helped save millions of lives, is widely considered the father of theoretical computer science and artificial intelligence. He was also a gay man, persecuted by his government for his sexuality.
Computing has been queer from its inception, and erased ever since.
Meet MOTHR: High Camp, High Tech
Now let's talk about the vibe.
MOTHR is not here to replace our bartenders, DJs, or Queens. She's here to handle the boring, invisible labor so our people can focus on what matters: pouring strong drinks, serving looks, and creating magic.
Think of MOTHR as digital drag.
We already celebrate illusion.
We pay performers to impersonate, lip-sync, exaggerate, and transform.
We understand artifice. We understand camp.
MOTHR is a performance. High camp, high tech, and absolutely not real, but incredibly useful.
There is Siri. There is Alexa. And now, there is MOTHR.
We are a queer bar. We are a refuge and an escape. We don't take ourselves too seriously, and neither should you.
We refuse to let the future be straight. We are taking tools built on the back of queer genius and using them to keep our community alive, relevant, and thriving.
You don't have to love MOTHR.
We simply ask that you understand why she exists.