Posthuman Blues

I just got back from canvassing my immediate neighborhood for free wireless Internet service. To my disappointment, I discovered the "free" Wi-Fi I enjoyed yesterday from the patio at Starbucks was an accident; I actually went inside this evening and was routed to the Starbucks wireless start-page, which informed me access was pay-per-hour. No better at Barnes & Noble, where I diplomatically purchased a fruit drink and attempted to log in.

In any case, my naive vision of free wireless hotspots waiting to be tapped has been thoroughly smashed. I think the only legitimately free wireless source in my vicinity is the library across the street. And it closes at six on Saturdays.

A friendly security guard suggested that, technically, leeching Wi-Fi after-hours was frowned upon, but as long as I stayed reasonably far away from the front doors I'd be OK. So I skirted the perimeter of the building, trying to look inconspicuous. I ended up sitting on a metal bench at the roadside watching insects flit among the streetlamps and picking up sporadic service, vaingloriously determined to steal some Net access and ignoring the occasional odd glance from passing cars.