“There are two kinds of shopper at Orsk,” she continued. “Those who buy nothing, and those who buy everything. But the serious shopping doesn’t happen until they get downstairs to the Market Floor, where they’ll encounter what we call ‘open-wallet’ areas. These are designed to put customers under maximum retail stress. The goal is to get them to open their wallets and buy something, even a light bulb, because once we crack their wallets, they will spend, on average, $97 per visit.”

They arrived in Living Rooms and Sofas, where Matt was wrestling a Brooka onto a flat cart with another partner. With Basil a safe distance away, Amy relaxed her tone, ditched her smile, and reverted to her usual sarcastic self.

“On our left we see a floor partner in his natural habitat,” she announced. “To work in Living Rooms and Sofas, you have to be capable of lifting at least fifty pounds, which means only the partners with the hottest bodies work this BA. Does anyone know what BA stands for?”

“Business area?” a trainee with braces ventured.

“And what do we do in a BA?” Amy asked.

Silence. No one ever answered this question correctly, even though it was right on the cover of the employee manual.

“We distribute joy!” Amy answered. “We share the joy of Orsk!”

Two steps closer to Matt and the stink hit Amy full in the face: the smell of sun-baked Porta-Potty, hot Dumpster juice, and rotten seafood. It hit the trainees next, and they pulled their red shirts up over their noses. The Brooka’s upholstery (Blarg, from the Classical line) was soiled with dark smears.

“I am glad we’re seeing this,” Amy told them. “One of the many benefits of working at Orsk is the opportunity to interact with customers from all different walks of life. Including the sorts of people who change dirty diapers on expensive sofas.”

“Actually,” Matt said, “it was like this when we opened.”

“Which means the closing partners left it for the opening partners to handle,” she said. “Trainees, it is a dog-eat-dog world at Orsk.”

Matt shook his head again. “I closed last night. When I left, this sofa was fine. No one knows how it happened.”

“Exactly,” Amy said. “Which is why every info post is equipped with Orsk-approved, nontoxic, hypoallergenic air freshener. Because when some lady drops her mutant baby’s drippy diaper behind a sofa, you don’t want your shop to smell like her beautiful overachiever’s butt for the rest of your shift.”

“Does that happen a lot?” one of the trainees asked.