text: Working at the mall was rarely intriguing. Interesting occasionally, funny sometimes, but always with a thick blanket of boredom and monotony. Helping customers and stocking the small shelves had become an essentially autonomous process for me, and most days my mind would settle into a trance, only waking when my scheduled breaks gave me a moment of escape. Of course, escape is a pretty limited ordeal when you have to be back at the store in 10 minutes. When there's nothing but mall and parking lots for half a mile in every direction, there just aren't many options. People watching, wandering the mall, every now and then a brief moment of curiosity when a new shop moves in. Trying to guess what sort of goods or services will be offered based on the newly installed sign. Meeting the new shift regulars. But Precision Offerings was different than the other new stores, and that, for once, made my job intriguing. For starters, no one seemed to even know they were looking to move in before they opened. Usually a space is open for a month or two between one seasonal shop and the next. Not so for Precision Offerings. One Friday, space C-18 was the Summer Supply Store, on Saturday they were completely hauled out, and Precision Offerings was open by 10AM Sunday. At least, they had a sign up saying they were open. I'd only caught a glimpse from a floor above on my way in that morning, it looked like their store was still pretty empty. But the lights were on and the door was open. I decided I'd wait until lunch to take a closer look. I clocked in, tranced out, and before long it was time to eat. Unpacking my bag lunch, I'm faced with a new dilemma. My gluten-free, vegan room mate has prepared a lovely concoction of garlicky herbal spreads and strange super-fruits that I'm sure he'd been looking forward to. But instead, he's probably unwrapping my leftovers from Taco Macho and the potato wedges I'd tossed together for lunch. Damn. On my way to the food court, I can take a small detour to check out the new store. There's no line, but that's not too surprising for the very first day. Walking into the mostly white store, I'm struck by my inability to identify what kind of place it is. One one shelf, there's some motor oil and an.. alternator? I'm not great with car parts. Another shelf has a very finely crafted Victorian style doll. Near what I took to be the checkout counter, there was a small food case with a single muffin, a pastrami on rye sandwich, and two oranges. Each shelf in the store was bare except for a single item or small collection of related things, but I couldn't come up with any reasoning to link them all together. "Would you like a sandwich, or some oranges?" the clerk asked me. Wearing mostly white, I'd almost not noticed him standing behind the counter. He looked like most mall clerks do, young, well kept, but with a smile that says "I'd rather be on my phone". "Oh, actually.." I replied, suddenly remembering my lunch dilemma, ".. a sandwich does sound pretty good. How much is it?" "$6.17 with tax" he said. Not a bad deal for lunch, and worth trying out the new grub. Plus I wouldn't have to wait in line at the Wendy's downstairs. "So, first day, huh? I work a couple floors down. How's business?" I asked. "It's been just fine, like usual. New place, same store, you know?" "Oh, so you moved in from somewhere else? That explains how you got set up so quick. It's usually a longer process" I said, with a slightly impressed tone. "Well, truth is, it's really easy to set up a Perfect Offerings store. No signage, no displays, just a few shelves and a tiny inventory" he explained, gesturing to the mostly empty floor. "Setting up on the first day is almost exactly the same as any other day, just in a new spot." "Ok, well, now you've got me stumped. I see what you have on display here, but.. what kind of shop is this, exactly?" I asked, finally letting my curiosity get the best of me. He smiled, and with a practiced delivery said "Precision Offerings sells exactly what you need, when you need it, and not a single thing more. Guaranteed." I waited for the punchline, but he said no more. His phone rang, and he quickly thanked me for my business before getting into a conversation with someone who was having car troubles. While I ate lunch, which was pretty tasty actually, I wondered just what he'd meant. It was surely some corporate slogan that only holds up when interpreted in a specific way, but usually I can figure out what they mean. I'll have to come back to it sometime, break is just about up and I still need to piss. Over the next few days, I can't stop wondering about Precision Offerings. I started using my morning break to walk by, and peer in through the windows. Every day, there were new items in the store. Strangely, they were entirely new each day. A pinata, recliner, and hand made wooden loom one day, balloons, duct tape, and tax software the next. Nothing was ever on sale for more than a day. It wasn't long before I realized what I was actually seeing, and the revelation made me angry. The only way someone could make money selling such a diverse selection of stuff is if the stuff is coming to them for free. This wasn't a pawn shop trying to sell anything worth anything, it was something different. I started to suspect this was some sort of specialized fencing operation. Steal a few things here, a few things there, from shops and stores around the mall, then sell them in a weird little store. Like I said before, the mall was usually pretty boring, so my mind had lots of time to speculate. That's how I found myself devising a plan to follow the clerk one night. I stayed late after my shift, and waited for him to close the store. As usual, the shelves were empty at this point, I still hadn't figured out what he did with the unsold items. He turned off the lights, pulled down the security gate, and locked up. Then, with almost uncanny precision, he turned to look straight at me. "Hello, I have seen you watching my store. I think you're ready to ask some questions, but it will be much easier if you meet me here in the morning before I open. Will you come?" he asked, as though he were casually inviting me to go get a drink. "I.. uh.. sure" I uttered, the words barely making it out over my surprise at being called out so swiftly. "Great. See you then!" And with that, he put on his headphones and strolled off. I considered following him, but just as I did, he looked back and gave me a friendly wave. Maybe I shouldn't. I didn't sleep very well that night. "Ok, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm going to tell you how this works, and you won't believe me, but it's the truth." The clerk, who's name turned out to be Claude, was giving me an earnest look with no indication of sarcasm. "Every morning, when I open the store, there's a box behind the counter. In the box is The List, and today's items. The List tells me what each thing is, and how much it will sell for. I set the things up, and then wait for the customers." "Everything sells, every single day. I don't know how, or why, but every thing I put up on the shelves gets bought. I've put things up there that make absolutely no sense to sell, old newspapers, broken plates, VHS tapes, you name it. But no matter what it is, if it comes from the box and it's on the list, it gets bought. That's it. That's the whole store." "Bullshit" I said. "Everyone knows mall shops are games of margins. No one sells 100% of their stock, regardless of what they sell." "I know, I know. I didn't believe it at first either. But it always works. Every single day." His expression was still serious. I was starting to wonder just how committed he was to this trolling. "Well, I guess that makes your job pretty easy then, huh?" I asked. "It is effortless. I do not have to manage inventory, deal with complaints or returns, or run promotions. I open the store, I sell the items, and I go home." "Huh. How's the pay?" I asked, deciding to entertain this little nonsense for the moment. "It's pretty good." He showed me. It was. "Hah. Wow. How do you wind up with such a sweet gig?" "Here's the part you really won't believe. You just.. ask." He said, looking expectantly at me. "So I just say, 'Can I have a job?'" I asked. "Don't you already have one?" he replied. "This is a full time position, you can't work a second job with it." "Sure, but for that pay, and such an easy gig, I'd leave my old shop behind in a heartbeat. You know, if it was real, and not some elaborate prank." "Of course" he said. "I just realized, I didn't ask you your name yet." "Me? I'm Nick." I told him, surprised it hadn't come up yet. "Nick, check this out." He reached into a drawer, pulled out a box knife, and cut into the box behind the counter. Lying neatly on top was a small metal nametag. "Nick". He handed it to me. "Size L, waist 38?" he asked, as he handed me a shrunk wrapped pile of white clothing. "What the hell is this?" I asked. "Nick, this is your new job. Assuming you're still interested?" And that's how I started at Precision Offerings. The easiest job I've ever had, at the weirdest shop that mall ever had, which was maybe the worst decision I ever made.