She nods towards one of the hanging surveillance cameras trained on the registers and then to the beer I'm buying. "Be careful. They're watching."
It's my first day.
I imagine it to be a cramped little room with a hunched old man, unshaven & with coke bottle glasses, watching. Just watching. Like the Pearl Station. Reports flying off to nowhere, still watching:
The cameras pan the store. Checking customer bank accounts. Sufficient funds. That woman is not wearing a brassier. Nice. That man is stealing from the salad bar. Investigate. Only 3 outstanding warrants. The police need not be notified. They return to their regular hobby: watching the staff.
The Hammer takes me back to show me dry storage. A narrow side hallway/fire exit with shelves overstuffed. "This is our dry storage. Where we keep the rice and -" his phone rings, he checks it - "if you need to take a call, do it back here - " nods up at a camera - "they can't see you back here -" takes the call.
It's my first day.⚉⚉⚉
Wrinkled decrepit man, staring with lidless eyes, gesticulating frantically, teeth crumbling to dust and falling from his gaping maw, drool pooling at his feet. Watching as I toil. Why is he watching?I blinked. “Excuse me?” “I said, ‘is there anywhere we can sit down and eat this?’” “Yeah. Café’s right over there.”