Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to return to Cafe Liebe, and see how things are faring for our hapless kohai Hime. After being conscripted into service as a replacement for her manager Mai, Hime swiftly managed to trip over or smash into basically every convention of their fictional girls’ academy. Though she has some vague understanding of the genre territory being explored, the lingo is still foreign to her; she has mastered a precise script of feigned modern-day courtliness, but her affectation bears only a passing resemblance to the assumed calls and responses of Liebe Girls’ Academy.

Of course, that precise formality of assumed language is exactly why Liebe’s customers find this performance so enticing. Hime is talented at improvising in the manner of a genuine social butterfly, but the genre-born assumptions of Liebe flatter a very different audience, comforting those who, like Kanoko, find the vagaries of spontaneous conversation foreign and intimidating. Scripts provided by fiction allow those who have difficulty expressing themselves organically to connect with others; when the rules are so clearly defined, there is little fear of putting your foot in your mouth. And of course, it’s not like organic conversations don’t follow their own unspoken scripts, as Hime’s initial talents well demonstrate. All human interactions are in part a performance of selfhood, and through Cafe Liebe, Yuri is My Job! is consistently demonstrating the differences and nuances of performing for yourself, for the sake of being understood, and for the approval of an assumed audience. Let’s see how Hime fucks it up this time!

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