For years I’ve had a fantasy of opening my own chinese restaurant. Every table in my establishment will be bugged; perhaps a microphone in that vase of imitation flowers that seems to be standard issue, perhaps video cameras secreted in the lighting. In any case, each listening device will be routed to a shadowy, cavernous monitoring room populated by gnome-like bleary-eyed undergraduates being paid minimum wage to come up with personalized pessimistic fortune cookies for each table…

It can’t be too obvious, of course – one wouldn’t want to give away the secret. Perhaps Lawrence Waterhouse of Cryptonomicon should be consulted.