His first day in training as a manager, Ty observed two things: the first being a robbery at his bank, and the second being the installation of a new interface at work.

The robbery in of itself had been alarming; armed with an AK-47, the robber shot the teller in the arm. Even after being shot, the teller repeated an odd phrase to the entirety of the bank: All will be well. The State Authority will arrive soon to resolve the matter. The robber laughed at the first announcement, becoming annoyed after the teller repeated the statement broken-record style.

Soothsayer that the teller was, a black vehicle with the State logo (a white star under-scored by two handguns) pulled up in front of the bank. The robber tried to run, but a bullet to the eye stopped any marathon he had planned.

Ty had witnessed several robberies, but it was the first time he'd been in such close proximity. Never before had he lain with his cheek pressed against a cold marble floor, waiting for an armed maniac to leave so he could breathe again. A woman next to him had sobbed quietly. He remembered her tears pooling near her cheek, and his irrational urge to shush her.

Stop being emotional; you're alive.

His usual response to trauma was to categorize, wrap it, and shelve it for another day. The "another" day hardly ever came, but he was okay with that. Shelving helped him survive. Before he returned to work, he made sure he had taped his shaking to a minimum.

~*~

Breezing into Good Time, Ty's eyes were drawn to a chrome pole erected in the first aisle. It was more like a bean-pole bot, complete with a clear interface screen atop its shining apex. When he stepped closer to inspect it, the screen lit up in recognition.

"How may I aid you, citizen?" A cheery female voice intoned.

"What's this?" He directed his question to the nearest manager, Wallace Williamson.

Wallace beamed. "Isn't it cool? We finally have an interface in our store." Wallace noticed Ty's clammy forehead and shaking hands. "What's wrong with you?"

Any leftover fear from the robbery leaked out from him, replaced with fear of the machine.

[Who would do everything a store then?]

[Machines.]

"Nothing. I'm okay."

Wallace had been at the brunt of four robberies in the last two months, and he never shook like Ty. At least, not that anyone ever saw.

"You don't look okay. You look like shit," Wallace said.

He mopped at his beaded brow, fixing a stock smile on his face. Luckily, an approaching customer saved him from responding. He cared about Wallace's opinion, and looking like a scared little bitch was something he wished to avoid.

Ty cheerily led the customer to the products requested. Throughout the day, he made sure to help customers before they thought

[Slavery without the oppression]

to use the interface.

Human interaction was stronger than wires and unyielding metal.

~*~

A customer service situation of volcanic proportions occurred at the end of his shift.

A woman was upset because during her purchase of candy hearts, she claimed the cashier neglected to give her all the boxes she paid for. Two days from Valentine's Day, and there were no more boxed candy hearts in the store.

Ty offered to refund the money, exchange the missing candies, or extend a store credit. Neither of the scenarios satisfied her. She kept repeating What else can you offer me?, as if she were asking a mob don for a bribe. She asked Wallace the same question, and he whispered to Ty We should ask the interface what to do. Those things know everything. He shushed him, and Wallace called Pen to help the woman.

Pen laid out the same options Ty had presented earlier, and again she asked what else can you offer me?

Eyebrows halfway to the moon, Pen said, "I can have Ty go to the drugstore down the street and purchase you some more candy hearts...?" He looked conflicted, as if his own idea was simultaneously genius, and despicable.

"I'm good with that." She sat down on the nearest merchandising shelf to wait.

Internally, Ty's eyes shot halfway to the ceiling. Externally, he smiled and nodded, as if she had made the obvious choice.

At the drugstore, the florescent lights, white polished floor and white walls accentuated how empty the place was. The aisles were eerily silent, merchandise perfectly positioned and in-stock. In the candy aisle, Ty found the infamous candy hearts. Here, they were labeled for much cheaper: 4 boxes for a dollar, as opposed to 2 for a Dollar at Good Time.

He shook his head and grabbed several boxes.

The front counter, like the rest of the store, was devoid of human activity.

"Hello?"

After no response, he repeated the question, louder this time. His queries drew out an employee some two minutes later. She was a petite teen, chewing gum and sauntering from what seemed to be the back room.

"You're the only one here?" Ty was amazed.

"Yeah." She seemed unconcerned with his judgements.

She nodded at the candy, and he dumped it on the counter.

She rang it up, announced his total, and he paid.

On his two-minute walk to Good Time, his bagged purchase was swinging in time with his steps.

Ty took a deep breath before stepping back over the threshold of Good time.

Right where he'd left here, the ornery customer sat waiting on the shelf. She scrolled her device, sunglasses on.

"Ma'am." He held out the bag of candy hearts.

At first, she didn't look up from her phone. Ty stood, awkwardly holding the bag with one arm extended. Finally, she pocketed her phone. He could feel her eyes burning through the ridiculously large sunglasses.

She yanked the bag from him, then neglected to say thank you. Without so much as a good-bye, Mrs. Candy Hearts left.

Ty and the surrounding employees released huge sighs of relief. Then, they proceeded to complain about her.

Imitations of her use of the word else floated around, each person making up their own exaggerated version.

What else can you offer me became a running joke for the next few days, used at every opportunity.

Wanna get lunch with me today?

What else can you offer me?

I have a spare quarter if you need it for the bus.

What else can you offer me?

The store was empty after the woman's departure, and Wallace busied himself by chatting with the interface. He got in the middle of the employee complain-a-thon to announce, "The interface had a better suggestion for handling her." He displayed three boxes of candy hearts. "It printed out these composites."

"Well fuck my ass and call me Ginger." Pen took the candy and held it up to the light.

"I'm gonna start telling customers to use the interface more often!" Wallace said.

Pen agreed with him, and they both marveled at the boxes of candy until Ty snatched them away, and threw them in the garbage can.

"What else can you offer me?"

Everyone laughed, unaware of Ty's seriousness.

~*~

A/N: After hitting the adorable vote button, make sure to check out linahansen , a writer of sci-fi/mystery and much more. She's currently adding to In My Attic: An Avebury Witches Cozy Mystery: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/62873347-in-my-attic-an-avebury-witches-cozy-mystery