This past weekend, in Pennsylvania, I innocently walked into BEST BUY and found true love in the form of a gorgeous, glittering, winking, widescreen GATEWAY MT6451 laptop computer. I didn’t think I could feel this way again about a piece of machinery, not since my bright pink now-expired engraved IPOD that is, but it only goes to show how the human heart endlessly renews itself. My gorgeous new computer is flat and wide and metallic and shiny and snaps shut like a vintage compact that Greta Garbo would have powdered her face with. The screen is like glass, like a flat sheet of diamond. Behind it, my MICROSOFT WORD documents glimmer like exotic museum pieces. The keyboard is black inside an expanse of smooth metal, and when you tap the keys they barely make a sound. The word GATEWAY appears under the screen, like a promise of eternal bliss, like a gateway into a future in which there is no wood, no grass, no disgusting bugs that crawl from under leaves, only silver and glass and smooth flat things you can run your hand across for hours and hours and hours. The end.