“Hello and welcome to HP Cosmetics. Your skin is your heart; your mask is your armor. This is customer service #2143: how can I help you today?”

#2143’s voice rises mechanically at the end of her scripted question, the slight lilt almost muscle memory at this point. She’s been cycling through seven variations of the same question over the past few hours. Impatience grows as she fiddles with her earpiece – it’s starting to scratch against her painted temple.

The indignant customer on the other end of the call did not help. “What happened to my mask? It’s supposed to arrive like last week.”

A repressed sigh. “I apologize on behalf of my company. Let me check if there has been a delayed shipment. Would you mind giving me your name and number please?”

“...”

“Why the hell would I give you my password? How do I know you’re not just a scammer?”

“Sir, that is the only way I can access–”

“...”

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Would you be interested in an HP membership? You will have priority when the premium masks come out – like the Half-Summer series, it’s being released this June and–”

“–not an explanation. I want to know why my mask arrived at my house in literal pieces.”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am, but you will have to contact the delivery company about that–”

“–s enough. I want to speak to your manager.”

“Sir, I’m afraid–”

Beep beep. Hung up before she could finish her sentence – again.

Pursing her lips, #2134 tapped her earpiece to begin another call.

“Good afternoon, welcome to HP Cosmetics. This is customer service #2143, how may I be of help to you today?”