The morning of her first shift, Amy dosed herself with Visine, drank six cups of coffee, started up her old Honda Civic, and drove the route she remembered so well, taking the feeder road to River Park Drive. Out of habit, she pulled into the parking space she’d always used, around the side of the building, back when it was Orsk, before it was Planet Baby.

The store was different but the same. The muted color scheme had been replaced with bright primary hues. Signs that looked like an unusually literate toddler had scrawled them in crayon hung everywhere, reminding Mommy and Daddy to buy all the right things for Baby who needed them so badly but could not yet communicate his (or her) wishes, so Planet Baby was generously interpreting them for him (or her). Thank you, Planet Baby.

Inside, Amy reported to the back of house and met the head of HR. She had bought her own uniform and went to the locker room to change into the soft denim jeans and smocklike pink shirt that erased her shape. No one here wore Chuck Taylors. She noticed it was all Reeboks, pink for girls, blue for boys. Amy made a note to buy a pair. She wanted to fit in.

She was running a few minutes late, so her shift sponsor guided her across the massive floor to an orientation tour that was already in progress. There were some of the same room displays as in Orsk, placed in some of the same areas, with a significant emphasis on playrooms, nurseries, and baby’s first big boy (or big girl) bedroom. Amy was quietly pleased to note that several of the rooms had fake doors nailed to the walls, to complete the illusion that customers were peering inside an actual house.

The sponsor took her through Planet Baby’s winding aisles and crammed displays, chattering all the while, until they finally reached a group of trainees listening to the floor manager. “We want to guide customers but not overwhelm them,” he was saying. “Planet Baby is a total experience, but it should always be a good experience. First retail contact is vital.”

The manager giving the orientation nodded to acknowledge Amy’s arrival and then returned to his speech.

“There are two kinds of shopper at Planet Baby,” he continued. “Those who buy nothing, and those who buy everything. Up here in the Showroom, it’s less about acquisition and more about aspiration. The serious shopping doesn’t happen until they get downstairs into what we like to call the Baby Store.”

Amy settled back and let the familiar retail hypnosis wash over her again. Her shift ended at six o’clock and she enjoyed a leisurely meal at Panera Bread, just up Route 77. Then she stopped at Dick’s Sporting Goods and Home Depot for a couple of last-minute purchases. Then she returned to the Planet Baby parking lot and waited.