we gaze, inconspicuously, through the gray dividing wall that separates the mortals from
the demi-gods that reside in the center of the floor. we time our moves meticulously, so as
not to be seen and noticed. we crouch, as though busy with manipulating the system
synonymously termed after a flag. we try to get closer to the screen, appearing to be
engrossed, therefore giving the impression that we are not to be disturbed. our heads and
shoulders try to cover as much as we can of the lower part of the monitor. cautiously, we
click on the icon that provides us a relative glimpse of the world, a gateway to the window
of satellite-transmitted information. as a demi-god passes by, we straighten from our
suspicious crouching position then we discreetly push the left mouse button to minimize
the window. as the imminent danger of the citation form passes by, we scan the floor once
again to check if the coast is clear, then we repeat the procedure. this goes on until the
next irate texan decides to dial the toll free number, just to disturb some poor filipino
footstool and bitch about the unfairness of power-weilding, high and mighty retail electric
providers and threaten to move to another company who could give them better service.
hakhakhak.
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