A Visit From the Goon Squad - Jennifer Egan [99]
“No, because what they do is up front,” Alex said, aware that he was condescending. “It’s out in the open.”
“And, see, those metaphors—‘up front’ and ‘out in the open’—are part of a system we call atavistic purism. AP implies the existence of an ethically perfect state, which not only doesn’t exist and never existed, but it’s usually used to shore up the prejudices of whoever’s making the judgments.”
Alex felt Cara-Ann stir against his neck, and let a long fatty piece of pastrami slide down his throat unchewed. How long had they been sitting here? Longer than he’d meant to, that was for sure, and yet Alex couldn’t resist the urge to brace himself against this girl and push. Her confidence seemed more drastic than the outcome of a happy childhood; it was cellular confidence, as if Lulu were a queen in disguise, without need or wish to be recognized.
“So,” he said. “You think there’s nothing inherently wrong with believing in something—or saying you do—for money?”
“‘Inherently wrong,’” she said. “Gosh, that’s a great example of calcified morality. I have to remember that for my old modern ethics teacher, Mr. Bastie; he collects them. Look,” she said, straightening her spine and flicking her rather grave (despite the friendly antics of her face) gray eyes at Alex, “if I believe, I believe. Who are you to judge my reasons?”
“Because if your reasons are cash, that’s not belief. It’s bullshit.”
Lulu grimaced. Another thing about her generation: no one swore. Alex had actually heard teenagers say things like “shucks” and “golly,” without apparent irony. “This is something we see a lot,” Lulu mused, studying Alex. “Ethical ambivalence—we call it EA—in the face of a strong marketing action.”
“Don’t tell me: SMA.”
“Yes,” she said. “Which for you means picking the blind team. On the surface it looks like you might not even do it, you’re so ambivalent, but I think it’s the opposite: I think the EA is a kind of inoculation, a way of excusing yourself in advance for something you actually want to do. No offense,” she added.
“Kind of like saying ‘no offense’ when you’ve just said something offensive?”
Lulu underwent the most extreme blush Alex had ever witnessed: a vermilion heat encompassed her face so abruptly that the effect was of something violent taking place, as if she were choking or about to hemorrhage. Alex sat up reflexively and checked on Cara-Ann. He found her eyes wide open.
“You’re right,” Lulu said, taking a rickety breath. “I apologize.”
“No sweat,” Alex said. The blush had unsettled him more than Lulu’s confidence. He watched it drain from her face, leaving her skin a jarring white. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I just get tired of talking.”
“Ditto,” Alex said. He felt exhausted.
“There are so many ways to go wrong,” Lulu said. “All we’ve got are metaphors, and they’re never exactly right. You can’t ever just Say. The. Thing.”
“Hoo dat?” Cara-Ann asked, her gaze fixed on Lulu.
“That’s Lulu.”
“Can I just T you?” Lulu asked.
“You mean—”
“Now. Can I T you now.” The question was a formality; she was already working her handset. An instant later Alex’s own vibrated in his pants pocket; he had to jostle Cara-Ann to remove it.
U hav sum nAms 4 me? he read on the screen.
hEr thA r, Alex typed, and flushed the list of fifty contacts, along with notes, tips on angles of approach, and individual no-nos, into Lulu’s handset.
GrAt. Il gt 2 wrk.
They looked up at each other. “That was easy,” Alex said.
“I know,” Lulu said. She looked almost sleepy with relief. “It’s pure—no philosophy, no metaphors, no judgments.”
“Unt dat,” Cara-Ann said. She was pointing at Alex’s handset, which he’d been using, unthinkingly, mere inches from her face.
“No,” he said, suddenly anxious. “We—we have to go.”
“Wait,” Lulu said, seeming for the first time to notice Cara-Ann. “I’ll T her.”
“Uh, we don’t—” but Alex felt