Likely Normal

The modern quest for Wi-Fi is a journey that turns ordinary humans into contortionists, acrobats, and occasionally trespassers. You start with the casual lean—just tilting your laptop toward the router like it’s a sunflower chasing daylight. But soon, you’re performing full-blown signal salutations: one leg on the couch, arm stretched toward the heavens (or at least toward the router’s mysterious sweet spot), looking like a tech-starved version of the Vitruvian Man—if Da Vinci’s sketch included a guy in sweatpants yelling, “Why is buffering my life?”

Then there’s the desperate balcony hang, where you dangle your phone over the railing like you’re fishing for bytes instead of bass. Neighbors think you’re meditating, but really, you’re just one bar away from finally loading that cat video. And let’s not forget the surreptitious hallway crawl—belly-sliding toward the neighbor’s unsecured “NETGEAR-GUEST” like a ninja with a data plan. “I’m not stealing, I’m… borrowing democracy!” you whisper, as your YouTube video loads at 144p glory.

The peak of Wi-Fi warfare? When you start strategically aluminum-foiling walls to “redirect signals” (read: create a makespace Faraday cage that also blocks all hope). Or when you hotspot off your smart fridge because apparently even your appliances get better reception. Pro tip: If you’ve ever considered duct-taping your router to a drone, you’re not alone—you’re just a pioneer.

At the end of the day, we’re all just signal hunters, sacrificing dignity for download speed. So next time you see someone hugging a lamppost at 2 AM, don’t judge—they’re just chasing that elusive third bar.