Who wants to work on a 264-Core, 6TB RAM supercomputer
Well first of all I'd take it out to dinner, a nice quiet restaurant somewhere in the City, somewhere we can be assured some degree of anonymity. I'd ply it with reasonably priced wines, nothing to flash just enough to impress. Later we'd head off to an exclusive club, preferably a "Gentleman's Club" to admire some flesh and check out the dangly and wobbly bits.
Somewhere in there we would discuss the nature of the Universe, the Whichness of the Why, the How of the Now Brown Cow and the possibility of a Glurk Trolling.
Captain Kirk might be persuaded to stop by for a chat and to fuck something green.
Eventually, the evening would take it's toll and we would repair to my humble abode. Pushing open the front door, we would enter the darkened hallway. Mrs. Flittersnoop would be well and truly abed and we would gravitate toward the sitting room where we would sit primly discussing something in keeping with the lateness of the hour, like Pachabelle's Theorem in D Minor or D'ye ken tinkle plunk in his tinkle tinkle ding.
Having exhausted topics of decent conversation, we would head for the bedroom at which point I would decide to have the cat speyed.