The advertising agency where I work as a copywriter recently moved from a riverfront building in bustling downtown Portland to a quiet business park in the wealthy suburb of Lake Oswego. For some reason I have decided this is a great time to read Huxley’s Brave New World for the first time.
I am texting my older brother about my feelings on the color taupe, and he is responding with his best Office Space impression. He tells me I’ll never win the Real Positive Participation Points Prize this month with that attitude. He tells me Paula’s got two points and I’m already at negative three.
“Don’t let her get that Positive Participation Prize, Nate,” he says. Nobody calls me Nate except our parents. “It’s Nate, right? This month it’s a set of steak knives. Those are your steak knives, buddy.”
I walk to the window, uncap a dry erase marker, and start to draw a monster on the glass. It has three eyes and horns and is eating a BMW in the parking lot. Continue reading