Because this is the darkest possible timeline, the youth of America are freely choosing to live in pods, which is ostensibly a cleaner hostel. Fun fun.
Hey, remember that first time you visited Asia or Europe, that time money was an issue, so you opted for the type of accommodation that had the bathroom at the end of the hall, lino on the floor, and a bunk bed above your head, the type that was forever moving thanks to the incessant grinding of that couple from South America? Remember that?
It was an experience, but there’s a movement that looks to make that brand of living their permanent address. Called ‘pod living’, the glitter on this particularly nomadic turd sees maladjusted people group together in something that is a hostel in everything but name.
Over in America, many young people are readjusting the definition of their national dream of home-ownership to breathe in another’s farts from the bed above. I mean, you could dive deeper into the meaning behind it, in that it allows the childish millennial to forever keep their kidadultery alive, as their life is a series of sleep-overs punctuated by squabbles over who gets the top bunk.
Nevertheless, it certainly is a thing, with one company, PodShare, trumpeting their business model “rise of the freelance economy”, with their marketing videos featuring testimonials from clients who call themselves ‘podestrians’, with one (formerly known as ‘Nat’, who now goes by her instituted numeric handle, #3368), proudly showing off a neck tattoo of the company logo.
Which raises a series of awful historical parallels as well as representing the full length of late-stage capitalisms’ micropenis. At least PodShare’s location is fitting, as they’ve set up shop in Los Angeles, a place where dreams come to die on a memory foam mattress. In another element befitting Tinsel Town, they’re lowballing the competition, offering applicants accommodation for $1,400 per month, well below the median mark of $2,000.
With that being said, I’ve entertained the idea of pod living. I freely spent time in a capsule in Japan. For what it was, and indeed, what I was presented with (the cruelty of a flight delayed for 27 hours), it was certainly not so bad. But, I had the opportunity to leave it, and from that, I took all the shortcomings with the good-natured revelry one does when on holiday. However, entering the vicissitudes of my regular life, to come home and enter a bunk bed and the small-talk of others in close proximity, could drag. I understand circumstance dictates all, and everyone is not as entitled as I, but with the cost of living in this country spooling beyond grasp, perhaps we should consider this waffle a final complaint before we all shuffle into the pod.