“Because we don’t believe in God,” Good Man answered.
“How can you be unhappy in a country with electric staplers?” Good Man asked me.
I stared at him. “What?”
“America! You have electric staplers! Americans are lazy, and being lazy is good for invention. Because you want what you want, then you imagine, then make reality. Heaven for lazy people, and you want happiness? Then you buy it…”
My jaw dropped. “I don’t want to buy friends.”
“No, but we can make more friends.”
I laughed, “Make more friends and buy electric staplers?”
I looked in the direction Good Man was pointing. “Public Storage? You can—”
“I know, I know. You rent—pay—and put stuff there, right?”
“Right,” I nodded.
“That is so—! Stupid! Americans have huge cars. Huge houses. Huge yards—yards they are never outside in! And then they rent more space to keep stuff! America is so…awkward!”