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Hustling is the default mode of the 21st century, and I'm not above listing my adorable split-level Victorian on Airbnb during my out-of-town weekends. Need to rent a car for the day? Take mine—I wasn't using it anyway. But whoring out my bed—my own private sanctuary, complete with sweat-stained sheets and raggedy stuffed elephant named Elephant—on Recharge, the “Airbnb for naps”? I'd rather sell a kidney. The tech industry thinks that every last inch of my personal space should be for hire, that strangers should be able to rent it, on demand, by the hour, at their convenience. I call it, with eye roll heavily implied, the sublet economy. Initial moves toward the micropersonal seemed sane enough: Share the extra storage space in your garage (Spacer) or the empty parking spot in your driveway (Pavemint, CARMAnation) or that boat you spent way too much money on (Boatbound,...
(Excerpt) Read more at: WIRED
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Merry Christmas! It's not just for December any longer!