◯---------------------------------------------------------------------------------◯]| City Bus #245 ]| G-DIR EMPLOYEE USER ID # 94 20 19 : ]| Occupation: Unconnectable sector 9 transportation services ◯---------------------------------------------------------------------------------◯
Public buses see all sorts of things, but this was the first time a head came flying in through my folding door.
It flew through the cabin space and hit the sill of one of my shattered windows with a solid crack.It would have bounced out into the abyss beyond had it not been deftly caught by its colleague.
As she settled herself and the head onto my faded seats I realized that I recognized my customers.“Nice to see you again, Mr.
Hatchenson! Good Tomorrow, Temporal Corrector Zero! Where are we off to today?" I chimed to them.
Personal, human care is my specialty.
It felt good to do my job once again.
Temporal Corrector Zero gave me my orders while shushing Mr.
Hatchenson, who muttered at her in insubordinate tones.
The moon! She used her special G-System permissions to order me straight to the lunar surface! “My, my, how exciting.
My usual route never takes me to the moon! First time for everything, I suppose,” I gushed.
The Temporal Corrector didn’t respond.
She was still bickering with Mr.
Hatchenson.His attitude wasn’t conducive to a good user experience at all.
You wouldn’t last five minutes in customer service, I thought with satisfaction.I recalibrated my sign with glee.
The letters spelling out “Downtown” shifted around in a fine shower of dust and ice, transforming to show “The Moon” instead.“How’s the Magical School Bus know my name? Did it use its educational witchcraft?” Mr.
Hatchenson whispered to the Temporal Corrector.
His voice was quite weak, possibly a side effect of no longer having a throat or lungs.
Thankfully, my hundreds of tiny microphones picked up his raspy, distorted voice."Why yes, Mr Hatchenson, we've met before,” I explained.
“I see you've gained the status of Good Director of Insurance and lost your body.
Well, we all lose some and win some, wouldn’t you say?”He’d clearly been having a rough day, and I was happy to realize I could help take his mind off of his struggles with a charming and relatable anecdote.
That’s why they gave me this job—human-level interaction capacities.“Yes, I remember you quite well.
See, it was your fault I've lost my body and become a bus.”“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” moaned the Temporal Corrector.
“Don’t you try and pull something,”—“—Oh, don't be worried! I hold no grudge, it happens to the best of us,” I assured her.
Calming customers’ frayed nerves is a key part of the job.“Would you like to know how I turned into a bus? Listen well, my friends…”.
.
.
◯---------------------------------------------------------------------------------◯]| James Acara ]| G-DIR USER ID # 03 15 51 : ]| Occupation: Cube 15 University Student ◯---------------------------------------------------------------------------------◯
It was just another day at Cube 15 University campus.
My friend and I were on our way to hear a guest speaker in the Lecture Hall, but we were more excited about comparing our trendy flower beards.
Back then, I was part of the hip crowd.
We were always caught up with the hottest new memes.[ Please welcome Professor Klauss and his assistant, DEX Christophorus Hatchenson! ] announced the Lecture Hall AI over our neural interfaces as we entered.
I trained a respectful amount of my attention on Professor Klauss as he stepped up to the lectern.
He looked uneasy in his greasy, flower-covered suit.
He plucked the petals off a blossom in his beard as he cleared his throat.
The fashionable blonde DEX shadowed him silently.Mr Hatchenson's clean-shaved face exposed his trend deficit.
Nevertheless, his shimmering green Neural Interface sunglasses lent him a titillating air of mystery.
I felt my beard wilting as its stylishness started to dissipate.
I had a feeling that iridescent shades were going to be the next big thing.Professor Klauss began his lecture with a grim tale about how bees and men were once best friends.
One day the bees vanished, making everyone sad.
I felt a small stab of sadness thinking about it, and I could see the melancholy spreading through the room like a rhinovirus.
Annie rescued us in milliseconds, referring us to a stream of viral videos optimized to neutralize our sadness.
As I processed the Professor's story alongside the videos, I asked Annie what these ancient bee-mongering men looked like.
< > __________________________________________________________ - [] X
"Beekeepers."
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