Nobody asked me about my Surface. I tried flashing it all over the place. But despite my best efforts, no one seemed curious.
At Victrola Coffee Roasters in Seattle, I sat in the front window, with a hot pink Touch Cover attached, intentionally conspicuous. Nobody mentioned it. At the airport, I broke it out at the large open-air counter of a crowded bar. I sat in a seat at the gate, facing the walkway, pounding away at its keys on my lap. On a Virgin America flight, crowded with techies, I sat up front and kept it on my tray table the entire time, swiping from app to app. On San Francisco's Muni transit system, I tentatively typed in my seat, afraid it may be snatched on the crowded train. But no one said a word.
The only person to comment on it was a TSA agent at the Seattle airport, who told me I didn't need to take my iPad out of my bag.




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