Screen blackouts, I later learn, are clever tricks rather than bugs to tantalise you into paying for 'undisturbed' streaming
A sidebar internet ad claiming that RosePetal, located in my neighbourhood, wants to meet me, clicks onto a live video of a “cop”, police cap dangling off her foot. Then, a black screen wraps her, and leaves only the head visible. A loud buzz plays and adds to the general confusion as we both clumsily speak over each other, and seem to have trouble connecting, technologically and emotionally. “It looks like a dungeon out there, on your side,” I remark. “Cold.” “Right,” says the woman. “Well, this video calling stuff is ...
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