Every office has a weirdo, and now it’s never been easier to purchase your co-workers hatred.
It’s the Pause Pod. Not to be confused with the Go Pod, which is just a tent on top of a skateboard. One of these pods are fake, but both are equally as stupid.
The principle of supply-and-demand leads me to believe there is a market for people wanting to be immediately despised. Men and women just waiting for an invention that will fit their active schedule of being the worst person in the workplace.
Microwaving broccoli or humming at your desk for eight hours no longer cuts it. They need a higher level of extra. They need a new reason for someone to come into the office, look their direction, and roll their eyes with a proceeding “for f**k’s sake” dripping out from under their breath.
Welcome to the Pause Pod, friend.
This is one of the images used in the Kickstarter campaign, which I’m surprised existed. How does this not have immediate funding from wealthy investors? You’re saying they had to sell the idea to mouth-breathing dimwits who probably all wear balance bracelets?
Unless you’re my idiot dog who thinks a blanket over his crate is night, sitting in a dimly-lit tent is not going to fool you.
Also, who is walking around their office wishing for it to be night?
“God, this office is stressing me out and the sun’s rays are making it worse. If only I had the power to summon night!”
Whenever I go camping, the No. 1 complaint I have is that my tent covers my legs too well. I lay awake all night thanks to the stress from knowing my legs fit inside.
This Silicon Valley golden egg probably sat in a think tank for all of two seconds.
“I got an idea: how about a kid’s indoor tent but we make it for adults and we just paint it black.”
Are you a thinly-bearded hipster who hates the outdoors and refers to Donald Trump as “45” instead of his name, because like a Harry Potter character, you can’t utter the true name too loudly, lest he return to Hogwarts?
Then get the hell inside this Pause Pod.
What better way to loathe people playing in the park then by pitching an all-black tent right in the middle of the area where they are throwing their frisbee.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I interrupted your game of sports disc with my Pause Pod? Sorry I need a break from the stress of my life. Take your game somewhere else. I am in need of self-care.”
Look at this prick.
Guy 1: Where is Devin?
Guy 2: I didn’t see him leave the office on his unicycle. Plus his fedora is still hung up on the coat rack, so he’s still here somewhere.
Guy 3: Did he get our email? I thought I made it clear we needed to meet to discuss our company’s future now that we filed for Chapter 11. God, where the hell is Devin?
Devin: He’s definitely not in the Pause Pod.
Guy 2: Devin, get out of the tent. This is serious.
Devin: Just kidding, normies. I WAS in the Pause Pod. I was having another successful brainstorming session.
Guy 1: You figured out how to avoid liquidating our assets?
Devin: No. I figured out that I should mass-produce my Pause Pod.
In this made-up scenario of mine, all three men kill Devin and the Pause Pods never see the light of day.
It’s $99 to let everyone know you are in capable of taking a mental break like an adult.
The Pause Pod is nothing new. Kids have had this concept for decades, and there are far cheaper options available.