I had a customer drive up to my ramp booth. She informed me that I had two lights on. The light for ‘Cashier’ was lit up over the light for ‘Credit Card Only’. She then told me she didn’t know if a person was there or not.
The booth is basically a fish bowl. It was well lit and I was standing right in front of the window. I was on display for all to see.
I must assume that when I’m not properly labeled with a sign indicating that I’m human it isn’t necessarily apparent that I am indeed an actual human. I’m going to spend the rest of the year contemplating this new existential crisis involving my exclusion from the human species. I have gone to such effort over the years to appear as a normal human, but my attempts have obviously failed.
They have been slowly mechanizng the ramps. I knew that one day my job might become obsolete. It just didn’t occur to me that my human identity might become obsolete as well. Management must have mechanized me while I wasn’t paying attention… or maybe I was always mechanized. Yet my memories of my human life seem so real. Maybe I should have been suspicious all these years that upon my inception date at this job I was given a number to identify me.
I guess there are worse things to be than an android. Besides, just because I’m not a real human doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t real. Be nice to your local service replicant. We do all the hard work so that you humans don’t have to.