The workmen stand by the doorway. Nichols comes out with bottles of water for everybody. They make jokes, their hands held down as if carrying the television, scaled wide in reference to its sheer size. It’s a party over there. A giant television party.
Burns remembers standing in that same Best Buy not so much as five weeks ago. A salesman had quietly pulled him aside, assured him that he didn’t want to get bigger than fifty, that the size was there but the technology wasn’t ready. Burns had been skeptical of the guy from the start: a salesman with dreadlocks and a neck tattoo? Burns remembers when salesmen wore short sleeved shirts and black ties, pocket protectors and glasses, when they sold things that lasted for decades without service plans or replacement insurance.
But why would the guy lie? What could possibly be in it for him? Now Burns considers whether, somehow, Nichols could have been behind the whole thing.