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ship something there to be picked up. Of course there were also store fronts that specialized in letting people see, feel, and try out products before they were sold. But Jim got orders on his website from all over the world, though his business was still small. For that reason, he also served as a shipping center where people could pick up their larger goods. The bigger the tubes, the more expensive it was to have them built into your building.
    "Did you eat anything today?" Jim asked Trix when he arrived at the store a half hour later.
    "Yea they were giving away some new, like, burrito thing downtown."
    "What are you going to have for dinner?"
    "Do we have to go through this every day?"
    "Do you have to get high every day?"
    "You're the one selling it to me."
    Jim frowned. "Look, I only ask because I care. The church on Oak St. has a free dinner every Monday and Thursday, you should stop by."
    "I'll be fine, I get enough to eat, man."
    "Yea but you don't get the nutrients you need! All I see you eating is crap."
    Trix was done with the small talk. "Do you need a break? Let me stock some pods for a half hour."
    Jim looked down sighing, "Alright," he said shaking his head a bit, "I'll be back in 30."
    There was no real risk leaving Trix in charge of his store for a half hour. Jim had the security, and he knew Trix just wanted to get his fix. Stealing would mean time in confinement, without easy access to any drugs, and Trix was well aware.
    When the half hour was over Trix took his gram and walked the block to his apartment.
    It was an advertisers' apartment commonly referred to as an adap. Free room, free water, free electricity, free heat: the only catch was that the walls were covered in advertisements for all sorts of products, most of which were sold in the store that filled the wide hallways at the entrance and exit of the building, or could be shipped directly to the apartment via small shipping mag pods.
    Pretty much anyone could get a free adap, but Trix was at the bottom rung, ranked a low priority consumer because he hardly bought anything. Still, it was worth it for advertising companies to keep these apartments; the advertising was so targeted that somewhere around 97% of adaps proved profitable according to various studies. And anytime an adap tried to kick out someone who wasn’t buying anything, the public backlash was a greater threat to their profits than the few people gaming the system.
    The apartments ranged in size and style. Even some very wealthy folks would get a penthouse adap at the top of the buildings where the advertisements were for luxury goods, services, and travel. But Trix’s adap was on the sleazier side due to its location. Adap dwellers had to spend a certain amount of time at home to keep it, but it amounted to little more than half the year, meaning those who traveled for work would use an adap sometimes instead of hotels. Other people were just extreme couponers, and loved to get good value. Some college kids would get an adap to save money, or single moms so that they could be home for their kids. Trix had his because he liked to spend what little money he could gather on drugs.
    He opened the door to his 2nd floor studio adap and the wall screens flickered on. A mild voice greeted him by name, asking if he had given much thought to skin care lately, and maybe he needed some help clearing off the blemishes on his face. He hit the "off" button on the wall panel, which made the room go silent, though the walls still offered information on a dozen products at least.
    Every couple of minutes one of the panels would switch to another advertisement, but generally only one wall contained video advertising. Trix’s whole apartment was seven meters long by six meters wide, with a three by four meter section on the right of the entrance for a bathroom and closet. The three meter section beyond the bathroom had a basic kitchenette. The rest of his adap was pretty bare. Trix had a mattress