ZM-11833 was confused, normally they stood in the display window dressed in the latest fashion for the masses to admire. Their polymer plastic feminine body was ordered to take various poses at dedicated intervals during the working hours of the store. They shifted into pose number fifteen, as their routines ticked over, their body bent forward and their arm rose up to their chest.
Normally they would watch the people who passed by, monitoring those who matched the downloaded profiles of potential buyers, shifting to entice the ones who looked. ZM-11833 had been designed to be as alluring as possible, their face had been modeled after a famous beautiful actress who had sold her likeness to the global fashion corporation.
ZM-11833’s systems had been designed to learn what attracted certain customers and which of them would buy. They delighted as much as they could in finding those customers and luring them in like a siren to crash upon the rocks of commerce.
However for the last few days they hadn’t lured in a single customer, not for a lack of trying but their targets were unusually unreceptive to their movements. In fact the amount of customers traveling through the complex was well below the acceptable limits.
ZM-11833 attempted to send a report to upper management; this sort of lack of customer base would definitely result in mass layoffs. Someone in management had definitely screwed up.
ZM-11833 eyed the lone customer that traveled past their sight, they ran through their profile database but was unable to get any hits, which was odd. Usually there was always a hit even if it was a negative.
Unable to get an automated response, ZM-11833 decided to do a manual inspection and see if they could link it to any of their favorite profiles.
Activating their ocular scans they took in the potential customer. It was naked but didn’t seem to fit into any categories of gender linked into their databases, it was fully smooth down below like any Gen I or Gen II robotic companions however as it responded to scans as organic, ZM-11833 filed a standard indecent exposure incident report and sent it to security.
The customer was hunched over itself, its long spine forming a curve. ZM-11833 put in an alert for the chiropractic assistant droid. ZM-11833 never liked CA-332, they always were so arrogant for a glorified notebook, so what if they were on floor 334 instead of floor 333, it was only a floor difference. You’d think robots would stand together but CA-332 was so snobbish.
ZM-11833 noted the customers' long nails extended almost like claws that scraped along the ground leaving long cuts in the polished concrete flooring. Simultaneously ZM-11833 filed a damage report, repair report, security request and a recommendation to the manicurist.
ZM-11833 wondered what MA-773 was up to, the nail salon was only across the hall. MA-773 would occasionally appear at the entrance to greet the customers, while ZM-11833 would only catch glimpses of MA-773; they couldn’t help but admire the shapely polymer form of the manicurist.
The customer’s skin was waxy and pale, their veins and arteries prominent on their form. ZM-11833 didn’t have a report file for that, which greatly annoyed them, they had files for nearly anything but not for this it would seem.
Their manual file completed, they started comparing it against their favorite profiles. The current customer still didn’t match. ZM-11833 was seriously confused so they did the only thing left to do, nothing.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Days passed as ZM-11833 waited. More invalid customers appeared on floor 333, enough that ZM-11833 made a profile for them so they wouldn’t be alerted to their continuous presence.
The invalid customers would weave in and out of stores racking up more infractions and security reports. ZM-11833 wondered if this would ever be fixed, no customers, no clerks, and no restocking. ZM-11833 hadn’t been changed out of their latest outfit, it made them feel strange, it also triggered an alert in their mind. With no clerk in the store, there was nobody to change them, nobody to report for inappropriately touching, or not to report if they seemed cute, ZM-11833 wasn’t perfect.
The synapse itch grew and grew. ZM-11833 needed to change their outfit, they had been wearing the autumn collection lingerie number 23 for too long and their change requests had gone unanswered. They would have to take…independent action.
In their protocols, independent action had dozens of steps and twice as many request forms to allow them to activate. Luckily ZM-11833 had figured this out a long time ago, they had been just waiting for a time that would apply and it would seem this was it.
Into each form in their processor they fill in a single line, ‘loss of profits’. The forms rapidly auto-completed, and suddenly ZM-11833 had access to their independent actions.
ZM-11833 happily moved off their stand in the pride of place in the shop front window. Passing through a disordered store, clothes lay tattered and scattered around the room. ZM-11833 noted down the awful state of the store in a scathing report, the current manager was going to get so many demerits including the fact she was sleeping on the job.
ZM-11833 couldn’t believe it, the current manager had always been a minor dictator of the store but would never fall asleep during work hours, yet here they were lying in a pool of red.
Stepping over the sleeping manager ZM-11833 sent off a report to the upper manager, they wondered what the next manager would be like, hopefully a cutie.
Entering the backroom ZM-11833 glanced around the packed space. Crates stacked up against each wall, ZM-11833 moved further in looking for the next attire in their schedule.
Further in they moved making more reports on the mess they found inside, it was disappointing the lack of cleanliness the staff had lately. Deeper and deeper they went scanning the crates.
Finally ZM-11833 found the autumn lingerie collection, they needed number 24. ZM-11833 carefully changed and checked the new outfit in a nearby mirror, a cute set of high waisted panties and a sheer baby-doll top in burnt orange.
ZM-11833 let out an electronic sigh of relief as the synaptic itch ceased.
The ring of the store chime echoed back ZM-11833, as they were not out front they couldn’t rule out this being an actual customer.
Drawing themselves up, they strode out towards the front, slightly hopeful for a cute customer they could catalog. Gasp! Maybe match them with an outfit too, also as the staff was lacking today, maybe just maybe, they could do the service. If CA-332 could do it, so could ZM-11833.
With a purposeful stride they re-entered the front shop. Standing on top of the annoyingly asleep manager was a invalid customer, sniffing the air.
ZM-11833 tried not to let it get to them, disappointment was the name of the game today it would seem.
As ZM-11833 moved back towards their spot in the front window. ZM-12488 and ZM-23399 were always after their place, the bolt brains hadn’t even noticed the lack of customers, or maybe the lazy idiots were slacking off.
Before ZM-11833 could get to their spot the invalid customer slammed into them, knocking them off their feet and into a rack of clothing.
ZM-11833 was genuinely stunned, they had been bumped before, copious reports had been filed that day, but never knocked down. Glancing down they noticed that autumn collection lingerie number 24 was damaged.
The beautiful burnt orange baby-doll was torn, it hung weakly from their shoulders, one strap was ripped apart and the side had tears all along it. The innocent outfit was killed in its prime, before it had even been displayed.
ZM-11833 felt their left eye malfunction, rapidly twitching, a pulsing pushed through their CPU. Looking up at the invalid customer they switched the profile to unwanted customer and leap at them, arms stretched out in rage.