Novels2Search
Death, Taxes, and Advertisements
Chapter 1: ​Ads Morning, Noon, and Night

Chapter 1: ​Ads Morning, Noon, and Night

On Friday morning, Jerry’s cybernetic implant forced him awake. An involuntary act known by the epithet 'The Second Sin of Cybernetics'. “You couldn’t give me two more minutes of sleep, could you?”

His implant responded by filling the upper right quadrant of his vision with an advertisement for a discount mattress store.

“Our marshmallow-foam mattress is like sleeping on a cloud,” promised the spokesperson.

Jerry waited the mandatory five seconds of viewing before tapping his thumb twice on the tip of his pointer finger. The ad disappeared. “Weather report,” he commanded. A semi-transparent weather forecast overlaid his vision.

The bedroom door opened, and his dog, Fritz, bounded in. “Is someone glad to see me or just hungry?”

A dog food advertisement played in the right quadrant, its jingle singing, “When doggo happiness is your goal. Put Fido Flakes in their bowl.”

He was double tapping his finger when Fritz jumped on him, causing him to perform a pinch-and-release instead. Fritz was licking his face, but Jerry couldn’t see because the advertisement had expanded to fill his vision.

“Ok, boy, get down. Let’s get you some food and me some coffee and breakfast.” Jerry slid out of bed and walked to the kitchenette. As he filled the coffeemaker with coffee grounds and water, a cultured British man in the corner of his eye extolled the virtues of a cup of Conquistador Instant Coffee.

Jerry peered in the refrigerator at the four items it held. “Grocery list.” A semi-transparent list appeared in the lower left quadrant of his vision. “Add milk, eggs, and breakfast burritos.” Prices and digital coupons from the local grocery store scrolled in his lower right quadrant, along with his bank account information. He had to tilt his head to see inside the refrigerator using the only empty quadrant of his vision. “Remove the milk. Can’t afford it this week.”

He heated a burrito and scarfed it down, threw some dog food in Fritz’s bowl, and showered and dressed for work. He turned on the TV and selected the Dog Sitter Channel. “Behave yourself while I’m gone.” Fritz yipped and then sat in front of the TV. Jerry locked the apartment door and walked to the bus stop.

Jerry owned his implant, but he couldn’t afford the annual license for the ad-free operating system software. While he waited for the bus, he changed the implant setting for advertisements to continuous. Watching more than the daily minimum number of ads earned View Credits which could be exchanged for ad-free time.

The bus arrived, so he set the ads back to the default setting. He sat and closed his eyes to spend the credits he had earned.

The bus dropped Jerry off two blocks from his office. As much as he wanted some time for quiet contemplation during his walk, he changed the ad settings to the maximum. Two ads played at a time, obscuring his view of the skyline but doubling the View Credits he earned.

He entered the office building and went straight to his cubicle. Jerry plugged his desktop terminal into the cybernetic input port on his forearm, then leaned back and viewed his work queue through his implant.

Seconds later, a robot floor supervisor rolled up to Jerry's cubicle. It turned its head to face him and said, 'Hello, valued employee. Please install the updated customer service software. Have a productive day.' The robot then continued on its route.

Apart from a government-mandated break, Jerry worked all morning answering customer service calls for the five corporations he was assigned to. He was on a call when a two-minute warning flashed in his visual field.

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“Ma’am, I need you to answer yes or no.” The woman cursed at him in a foreign language. He listened politely until the one-minute warning flashed. Time to wrap up this call. “Ma’am, failure to provide an answer is interpreted as an answer of no. Thank you and have a nice day.” He terminated the connection, verified his call log, and broke for lunch.

“There’s the rockstar,” his buddy Francisco said as he took a seat at the table opposite Jerry.

“I’m glad the contest ends today so we can return to short form call logs. I still don’t get the whole ‘battle of the bands’ theme. How is taking phone calls for customer complaints anything like being a musician?”

“Our jobs are the very definition of ‘money for nothing’. We’re fortunate people still demand human interactions over chatbots. Speaking of money, only three more paychecks until--” Francisco rolled his eyes and sighed. He sat motionless for five seconds and then double tapped his pointer finger. “Until I can afford the subscription fees to turn off all advertisements.”

“I so envy you. The only time I’m free of the incessant ads is during work hours.”

“That’s on purpose, my man. Corporations are in collusion with the AI. I heard company executives get free licenses.” He winked. “Can’t have them being interrupted on the golf course.”

“That’s probably true. The fact that advertisements start--” Jerry waited for the ad dismissal button to activate. “That advertisements start as soon as we step away from work is proof it’s on purpose. They could choose to make the entire workday ad free.”

“My cousin Maria got divorced and couldn’t afford rent.” Francisco took a bite of his sandwich and chewed while talking from the opposite side of his mouth. “She downgraded to an ad-sponsored service plan. Working sixteen-hour days to avoid the constant unskippable ads." He poked his index finger in Jerry's face. "Screw the Third Sin.”

Jerry leaned in close. “It should be illegal to force poor people to watch ads. Speaking of illegal, are the rumors about why Linda quit true?”

“Yeah, her and her husband joined a Neo-Amish group rather than comply with the First Sin of Cybernetics and have their three-year-old implanted. Have you met her replacement? Cute girl named Sherri… no, Sharon.”

Jerry cocked an eyebrow. “Is she single?”

Francisco was mid-chew and said out of the corner of his mouth, “College freshman.”

“Oof. That would be like dating your little sister.” Jerry gathered his trash and stood. “Back to the grind. See you at the awards ceremony at three.”

* * *

“The final award is for Customer Service Representative of The Year. With an average call volume of 9.2 calls per hour and, is this right? With an unprecedented positive caller satisfaction rating of sixty-three percent, the award goes to Jerry Sanderson. Where is Mr. Sanderson?”

Although Jerry stood at the front of the gathering, the executive looked around without a hint of recognition of what his best employee looked like.

“Here, sir.”

The executive waved him up and gladhanded him with exaggerated vigor. “Congratulations on a job well done, Sanderson. A role-model for your floor.” He raised his voice. “In recognition of his achievement, we’re giving Gary a weeklong cruise in the Caribbean starting next week.” Jerry continued smiling at the oblivious executive.

The ceremony ended, and the company treated the employees to a pizza party. A gaggle of co-workers crowded around Jerry to congratulate him before wandering off.

Francisco grabbed them a table. “Congrats, man. A week of paid time-off. The time-off is paid, right?”

Jerry took a moment to scan the legal statements for the prize. “That’s what it says." He kept reading. "Lovely, I’m responsible for the taxes on the cruise ticket.”

“Two things you can’t avoid, death and taxes, am I right?”

An ad for a tax attorney popped up, obscuring Francisco’s face. “And advertisements, thanks to the Third Sin of Cybernetics. I’d rather they gave me a cash bonus so I could purchase a subscription.”

“What’s the cruise line?”

“Caribe Cruises… a subsidiary of Sargasso Shiplines. Why does that sound familiar?”

Francisco’s eyes went wide. “No way.” He leaned in and whispered, “Sargasso is a client. I bet the company received the cruise ticket as a gift. They re-gifted the ticket, and its taxes, to you. The company did you dirty.”

“Aren’t cruises usually for two people? Surely, they didn’t give the ticket to me because they know I’m single.”

“I doubt it. They would have to care enough about you to be aware of your marital status. If it was a two-ticket package, I’m betting someone from upper management kept the other ticket.”

“Says here, ‘Cannot be traded for cash value.’ Looks like I’m going whether I can afford it or not. Can I drop Fritz at your place while I’m gone?”

“Absolutemente. The kids love Fritz. Don’t be surprised if they won’t give him back.”