Rene's perception of his screen being too small precluded his ability to use it without being consumed by such a notion. He understood size was relative, and set forth in his mind a more lucid, objective, statement: My computer screen, while average in size, 'feels' small because I desire a larger screen. In this way, I am fucked.
During lunch, Rene went to Best Buy and bought two Dell 22" flat panel monitors. His plan was to align the two monitors vertically next to each other, creating what he envisioned ‘a huge square.’ Rene did not ask his supervisor if the company could facilitate this request, as he figured the concept 'a huge square' was not a legitimate reason. He remembered it was a Wednesday, the day a sparrow smashed into his window.
The boxes were so large that Rene had to bring them into his office in two separate trips. Isaac, a co-worker, upon seeing the first box during Rene's first leg of his two-leg trip, said 'Nice' in reference to the large monitor. Isaac, upon seeing the second box during Rene's second leg of his two-leg trip, said 'Dude', in reference to the excessiveness of both quantity and aggregate size.
'Dude,' Isaac said.
'A huge square,' Rene said.
This was the extent of their conversation. Isaac did not want to get emotionally or even rationally involved, so he said nothing and went back to his cubicle.
Rene sweated mildly in his office. He was on his knees, panting a little, eagerly separating the monitor and its parts from the pieces of styrofoam they were embedded in. He loved the smell of new plastic; he loved the feel of hard cardboard. He loved the forward march of human enterprise. The area between his buttocks became slippery.
Rene left the office that day a little after 8 p.m. That's how long it took to troubleshoot the myriad of problems he encountered while reconfiguring the display properties in order to make this 'huge square,' something which entailed talking for length on the phone with a stranger in India.
The parking lot was vacant except for his car. The empty grid of parking spots, if seen from above, would look like a child's drawing of a skeleton. If this child were asked to draw Rene's opulent yet barely furnished apartment, it would be a large square. 'A large square,' Rene thought sadly, and laughed.
He could add one thing to another; he could try to multiply himself over and over. He could buy two things and join them together. He could patiently watch the numbers in his bank account get longer. He could masturbate four or five times a night. He could weave through the shrubbery which lined the building and look for the sparrow that left part of its brain and left eye on his office window.
He didn't do anything. He just stood there in the parking lot and looked at his new Mercedes Benz. The lamp above made it look the wrong color, and the rising warmth in his eyes made the wrong color look wet.
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