“Hmm…” Garth adjusts his name tag. He prefers his last name. His shirt is baggy, and his black jeans are tucked into his heavy-soled black boots.

“Ah, waiting for your guest?” Garth’s brow crinkles. “You know, I could just make you a robot companion.” He scoffs at the customer.

“Shut up.” Garth shoos Gabe from his countertop, wiping it down. He’d spent the better part of the day cleaning his shop. “First, you’d probably program any robot to ignore me, second, talking to a machine doesn’t make you strange.” Garth peers at Gabe, who laughs.

“Yeah yeah.” Gabe quiets down. Garth’s lips tighten; every time someone enters, he turns towards the door. It’s not Anon. He doesn’t know what Anon looks like. “Hey, they’ve been here a while. Did that new hire try helping them earlier?” Gabe points towards a quiet patron.

“They already clocked out.” Garth replies, going to talk to the customer. “S’cuse me, are you looking for anything in particular? There’s another shop down the road.” He assumes they’re in the wrong place.