image problems."
There was a chorus of jPod agreement.
He continued, "I have a suggestion. Let's take a minute-long break and blithely pimp for the tobacco industry."
"Okay," Bree said. "But first I could sure use the smooth clear taste of a Marlboro Light."
"Me? I prefer Virginia tobacco. Mmm —nothing like a Rothmans to make the afternoon sweeter."
"But you know," said Mark, "I think there's nothing like menthol for a fresh smoking experience."
I asked, "What's the deal with menthol cigarettes? What sort of person smokes regular cigarettes for years and then suddenly says, Gee, this isn't satisfying enough. I need something more from my tobacco}"
Bree said, "My mother quit smoking in the 1980s, and then three months later they test-marketed lemon-flavoured cigarettes and she couldn't resist. She's two packs a day now."
I added that if Big Tobacco came up with orange-flavoured cigarettes, I'd probably start smoking.
Bree said, "Chocolate for me."
"I'd like roast beef-flavoured smokes," said John. "Nothing like a touch of cow to perk up a dragging day."
Evil Mark said, "Me, I find that the toasted tobacco flavour of a 100-millimetre-long More helps me to think better."
Bree asked, "More? Are those the skinny brown cigarettes?"
"Yup."
Cowboy said, "Me? I'd like to try one of those lady's cigarettes."
Bree added, "What kind of woman would look at a cigarette and say, Finally, someone out there is addressing my feminine tobacco needs}"
"Actually, I did just that last week."
"Cowboy, you're a guy."
"But I wanted to see, you know, what a woman's cigarette might be like."
"How did it taste, then?"
"It made me feel, you know . . .fresh."
. . .
As I walked past Evil Mark's cubicle, he moved quickly to get something off his screen.
"Porn?"
"Ha ha. Yeah. Uh. Don't tell anyone."
"That wasn't porn you were looking at. It was something else."
"Ethan, it's none of your business."
"Porn degrades everybody, Mark."
Evil Mark snorted.
"Okay, I was just trying to PC you into coughing up the truth. So what was it you were looking at?"
"Nothing."
"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be overreacting like this."
"I'm not overreacting."
Behind his cubicle wall, John Doe said, "I think he's overreacting."
"Evil Mark, are you into terrorism or something? Stock scams, maybe? Industrial espionage—passing along confidential in-house documents?"
"Leave me alone, okay?"
"Evil Mark, we're on to you now. We know you're up to something."
John Doe added, "We will crush you like a bug when we find out what."
"It was nothing! Just go and feed yourselves on a wide array of products containing high-fructose corn sugar. Zheesh."
"That wasn't funny, Evil Mark. It sounded fake and hollow. You're terrible at being ironic, and you've been rehearsing that line, haven't you?"
"I am not evil."
"People don't get nicknames for nothing, Mark."
Mark was beginning to lose it for real. "Bree arbitrarily chose 'evil' out of nowhere."
"Was it really so arbitrary, Mark?" Bree asked.
'You people are nuts."
"Let's look at the facts: a) boring email name; b) chose the black spy over the white spy in 'Spy vs. Spy'; c) could easily have confessed to having porn on his monitor, but instead chose to pretend it was nothing, meaning, it wasn't porn, but something too shameful to let his compassionate pod members in on."
Kaitlin put her head above her wall. "You people are totally fucking crazy. How can you live like this?"
"Like what, Kaitlin?" I asked.
"Like people damned forever to a shady armpit of an entertainment empire too cold and indifferent to even try to rescue people from a clerical spreadsheet error that assigns employee seating."
This stopped everything dead.
"Kaitlin"— and you have to remember, this was me, someone with an embryonic crush on her—"I don't think you quite understand the ramifications of being in jPod."
"What's with this whacko jPod shit?"
From all of us: "Oooooooohhhhhhhh . . ."
"She really doesn't get it,
There was a chorus of jPod agreement.
He continued, "I have a suggestion. Let's take a minute-long break and blithely pimp for the tobacco industry."
"Okay," Bree said. "But first I could sure use the smooth clear taste of a Marlboro Light."
"Me? I prefer Virginia tobacco. Mmm —nothing like a Rothmans to make the afternoon sweeter."
"But you know," said Mark, "I think there's nothing like menthol for a fresh smoking experience."
I asked, "What's the deal with menthol cigarettes? What sort of person smokes regular cigarettes for years and then suddenly says, Gee, this isn't satisfying enough. I need something more from my tobacco}"
Bree said, "My mother quit smoking in the 1980s, and then three months later they test-marketed lemon-flavoured cigarettes and she couldn't resist. She's two packs a day now."
I added that if Big Tobacco came up with orange-flavoured cigarettes, I'd probably start smoking.
Bree said, "Chocolate for me."
"I'd like roast beef-flavoured smokes," said John. "Nothing like a touch of cow to perk up a dragging day."
Evil Mark said, "Me, I find that the toasted tobacco flavour of a 100-millimetre-long More helps me to think better."
Bree asked, "More? Are those the skinny brown cigarettes?"
"Yup."
Cowboy said, "Me? I'd like to try one of those lady's cigarettes."
Bree added, "What kind of woman would look at a cigarette and say, Finally, someone out there is addressing my feminine tobacco needs}"
"Actually, I did just that last week."
"Cowboy, you're a guy."
"But I wanted to see, you know, what a woman's cigarette might be like."
"How did it taste, then?"
"It made me feel, you know . . .fresh."
. . .
As I walked past Evil Mark's cubicle, he moved quickly to get something off his screen.
"Porn?"
"Ha ha. Yeah. Uh. Don't tell anyone."
"That wasn't porn you were looking at. It was something else."
"Ethan, it's none of your business."
"Porn degrades everybody, Mark."
Evil Mark snorted.
"Okay, I was just trying to PC you into coughing up the truth. So what was it you were looking at?"
"Nothing."
"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be overreacting like this."
"I'm not overreacting."
Behind his cubicle wall, John Doe said, "I think he's overreacting."
"Evil Mark, are you into terrorism or something? Stock scams, maybe? Industrial espionage—passing along confidential in-house documents?"
"Leave me alone, okay?"
"Evil Mark, we're on to you now. We know you're up to something."
John Doe added, "We will crush you like a bug when we find out what."
"It was nothing! Just go and feed yourselves on a wide array of products containing high-fructose corn sugar. Zheesh."
"That wasn't funny, Evil Mark. It sounded fake and hollow. You're terrible at being ironic, and you've been rehearsing that line, haven't you?"
"I am not evil."
"People don't get nicknames for nothing, Mark."
Mark was beginning to lose it for real. "Bree arbitrarily chose 'evil' out of nowhere."
"Was it really so arbitrary, Mark?" Bree asked.
'You people are nuts."
"Let's look at the facts: a) boring email name; b) chose the black spy over the white spy in 'Spy vs. Spy'; c) could easily have confessed to having porn on his monitor, but instead chose to pretend it was nothing, meaning, it wasn't porn, but something too shameful to let his compassionate pod members in on."
Kaitlin put her head above her wall. "You people are totally fucking crazy. How can you live like this?"
"Like what, Kaitlin?" I asked.
"Like people damned forever to a shady armpit of an entertainment empire too cold and indifferent to even try to rescue people from a clerical spreadsheet error that assigns employee seating."
This stopped everything dead.
"Kaitlin"— and you have to remember, this was me, someone with an embryonic crush on her—"I don't think you quite understand the ramifications of being in jPod."
"What's with this whacko jPod shit?"
From all of us: "Oooooooohhhhhhhh . . ."
"She really doesn't get it,
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