Vignette "She's standing there at the checkstand
Just as she always does,
Taking people's money and bagging their goods
Always listening and watching
In one form or another
Fostering the disconnect of service vs. civility

A man comes up
Holding a limp USB cord for his printer
They always forget to tell them that
Ensuring a second trip to the store
Possibly more purchases of compulsion
Because a high-gloss finish
Super fast printing,
copying, scanning combination
is never enough

She rings him through
A simpler than most transaction
And he seems held aback,
Less talkative than most customers
She attributes it to the inconvenience of the second trip
But notices he watches her carefully.

In the careful sweep of the cord to the bag from the scanner
She feels fingers lightly brush her neck
As the purchase falls softly and plasticly into the thin polymer bag
The click of her prosthetic ear unclipping
Unanchored secrets and an assumption of obliviousness
To the part of others
As the silicon pink shell-thing falls onto the counter

The din of the PA and the busy store halts for a moment
Both service and customer stop and stare.

"Does that come with software?"  ¶ 1:08 PM