department and chose “straight,” the truth. No one had ever asked him that question before.
The questions on the second page were to be ranked 1 (strongly disagree) up to 5 (strongly agree) with 3 being neutral. “I want a roommate I can be friends with” or “I prefer to keep to myself” (3 on each). “I get lonely easily” (2), “I don’t understand the way people behave nowadays” (3), “I don’t want what most people seem to want” (4), “I wish people would be a lot kinder than they are” (4), “It seems that right and wrong are pretty ambivalent these days” (4), “I feel confused about the world a lot” (4), “It often seems that it’s the nice people who lose” (5). “Life has become less and less meaningful to me.” Cody left that blank, but the page called him on it, and he put in “1” before it let him move on.
Cody noticed the Troller’s frequency monitor zigging wildly. Apparently he was piggybacking on a very strong network.
The third page had two rows of color blocks. They weren’t normal colors Cody recognized, like blue or red or yellow, but they were variations in shades he couldn’t name. He was supposed to click on each one in the order in which they “appealed” to him at this moment, instinctively, without thinking. One by one they disappeared as he clicked away, followed by a “Please Wait,” as a timer ticked backward from ten. The same color blocks appeared again, in the same order, and he was asked to repeat the process. This happened three times.
Next up were blocks of psychedelic patterns in bright colors: polka dots, stripes, paisleys. Same deal. This was fun, trippy stuff.
Strangely familiar music piped in on the next page. It reminded Cody of some ancient arcade game (Pac-Man? Donkey Kong?). It was repetitive and silly and made him smile. The blocks were in vibrant, geometric black-and-white patterns that seemed to move if you stared at them, like an optical illusion. They made him dizzy. He was to drag his favorite ten patterns into the box at the bottom. Then drag his favorite five from those. Down to two. The Pac-Man music withered and stopped.
The frequency monitor zigged wild and red.
An elaborate maze popped up to fill the screen, with a blinking mouse in the center. Cody used his keypad to navigate through the maze, and the instructions told him to take all the time he needed. It was intricate, and he backtracked from several dead ends, making little progress. Just as he started to suspect the maze was shape-shifting to trap him forever, the screen went white, as if it sensed his suspicion and didn’t want to play anymore. The page said simply, “Thank you. Yea, S’wanee’s Right!”
Then the page automatically closed out his browser. The Troller’s frequency monitor dropped to a calm, yellow wave.
Cody blinked at the screen for a moment. The vibrant patterns had given him a slight headache. That was a funny questionnaire. He wondered what kind of roommate it would pair him with, as he went to take a short nap.
• • •
The Apple Store gave Cody a small going-away party in the back with red velvet cupcakes and sugar-free Red Bull. He reset his final iPod and promised to visit at Christmas. He took his packed box to Macy’s, where Marcie had arranged for it to be shipped UPS Ground with their special rates.
“So we’re supposed to have this talk,” Marcie said that night, slipping on her reading glasses. She held a printout from the
Huffington Post
. They had ordered in Chinese, and Marcie sat on the sofa in her lavender robe with her wine.
“Arianna Huffington had this talk with her daughter before she went to college,” Marcie continued, scanning the page like a checklist. “She calls it a ‘teachable moment.’”
Marcie added, “Arianna’s an immigrant, too,” which apparently made her advice endlessly relevant. “An extremely successful one.”
“She married a rich gay guy and took half his money,”
The questions on the second page were to be ranked 1 (strongly disagree) up to 5 (strongly agree) with 3 being neutral. “I want a roommate I can be friends with” or “I prefer to keep to myself” (3 on each). “I get lonely easily” (2), “I don’t understand the way people behave nowadays” (3), “I don’t want what most people seem to want” (4), “I wish people would be a lot kinder than they are” (4), “It seems that right and wrong are pretty ambivalent these days” (4), “I feel confused about the world a lot” (4), “It often seems that it’s the nice people who lose” (5). “Life has become less and less meaningful to me.” Cody left that blank, but the page called him on it, and he put in “1” before it let him move on.
Cody noticed the Troller’s frequency monitor zigging wildly. Apparently he was piggybacking on a very strong network.
The third page had two rows of color blocks. They weren’t normal colors Cody recognized, like blue or red or yellow, but they were variations in shades he couldn’t name. He was supposed to click on each one in the order in which they “appealed” to him at this moment, instinctively, without thinking. One by one they disappeared as he clicked away, followed by a “Please Wait,” as a timer ticked backward from ten. The same color blocks appeared again, in the same order, and he was asked to repeat the process. This happened three times.
Next up were blocks of psychedelic patterns in bright colors: polka dots, stripes, paisleys. Same deal. This was fun, trippy stuff.
Strangely familiar music piped in on the next page. It reminded Cody of some ancient arcade game (Pac-Man? Donkey Kong?). It was repetitive and silly and made him smile. The blocks were in vibrant, geometric black-and-white patterns that seemed to move if you stared at them, like an optical illusion. They made him dizzy. He was to drag his favorite ten patterns into the box at the bottom. Then drag his favorite five from those. Down to two. The Pac-Man music withered and stopped.
The frequency monitor zigged wild and red.
An elaborate maze popped up to fill the screen, with a blinking mouse in the center. Cody used his keypad to navigate through the maze, and the instructions told him to take all the time he needed. It was intricate, and he backtracked from several dead ends, making little progress. Just as he started to suspect the maze was shape-shifting to trap him forever, the screen went white, as if it sensed his suspicion and didn’t want to play anymore. The page said simply, “Thank you. Yea, S’wanee’s Right!”
Then the page automatically closed out his browser. The Troller’s frequency monitor dropped to a calm, yellow wave.
Cody blinked at the screen for a moment. The vibrant patterns had given him a slight headache. That was a funny questionnaire. He wondered what kind of roommate it would pair him with, as he went to take a short nap.
• • •
The Apple Store gave Cody a small going-away party in the back with red velvet cupcakes and sugar-free Red Bull. He reset his final iPod and promised to visit at Christmas. He took his packed box to Macy’s, where Marcie had arranged for it to be shipped UPS Ground with their special rates.
“So we’re supposed to have this talk,” Marcie said that night, slipping on her reading glasses. She held a printout from the
Huffington Post
. They had ordered in Chinese, and Marcie sat on the sofa in her lavender robe with her wine.
“Arianna Huffington had this talk with her daughter before she went to college,” Marcie continued, scanning the page like a checklist. “She calls it a ‘teachable moment.’”
Marcie added, “Arianna’s an immigrant, too,” which apparently made her advice endlessly relevant. “An extremely successful one.”
“She married a rich gay guy and took half his money,”
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