Drew's Out of Office

Games I’m Playing – Gig Economy – Every time I walk into a store where clerks have been replaced by machines, I feel a bit of sadness. Not because I particularly want to interact with others, but because it’s a good job for kids to have. I worked a lot of jobs over those early years. I was in offices, did landscaping, and worked in the M&M’s factory (a lot less fun that it might sound). Little shaped my world more than my time in retail. It forces you into situations where you have to deal with all kinds of entitled people (and some good ones). It’s like if California were condensed into a single place where everyone felt obliged to express how you are personally responsible for ruining their child's Christmas. One man came in and demanded I take a return without a receipt, which was against store policy. When I told him that, he announced he was an oral surgeon. It was at that moment that I realized the error of my ways and immediately took him to our special line for oral surgeons that came with a complimentary foot massage. The point is, it’s good exposure to the world. In an effort to relive those glorious moments, I decided to play InKOMBINI

“Not so fast, guy! What is a Kombini?” You say that like I’m supposed to have clue what the hell you’re talking about”

“Kombini” is the Japanese abbreviated word for the English word Convenience Store. “In” means… In. You should know that

Imagine, if you will, working in a kombini in the early 90s. Now imagine it’s your aunt’s kombini in rural Japan

“My aunt didn’t own a convenience store, though maybe she did in Japan”

I’d say this took a turn but it was kind of on the nose with the name. You’re Makoto, a… let’s say 19 year old, who’s home for the summer and looking for some responsibility and a little scratch. You’re on the night/early morning shift because even in Japan, regular employees sure aren’t doing that. Everyone has limits

“Night shift… convenience store… is this going to be another horror game?”

Your job is to manage the store, take care of customers, and make calls on the phone in the back. Also, you need to have inane conversations with customers. Here they go again, on about their lives. One snoozefest story after another

“This might be a horror game.”

There is a book called Yokai Stories under the counter so I kept expecting things to take a turn

As you walk around the store and tend to the tendables, the sweet sound of konbini music blesses your ears. If you’re wondering what that is, close your eyes and imagine if elevator music had a second cousin, twice removed. You’ve arrived at your destination

You get the satisfaction of the register cling and barcode scanner, the omnipresent hum of the multiple fridge and freezer compressors, and sound of your footprints as you walk down the obligatory three aisles

There’s surprisingly a lot to do when you “manage” a kombini. It’s early so it’s time to stock those shelves. Grab a basket, grab items in the back, and try to figure out where the hell they go 

“You said it was only three aisles”

I know, and they’re not even that big! 

While you’re out there doing gods work, locating and stocking, inevitably some lone customer will enter and need assistance. Now, this isn’t the US, where I’m pretty sure people are paid either to ignore you or incessantly ask if you need help. You’re expected to go over and promptly help that person. Trouble is, it interrupts that important shelf stocking work, and always right when I’m trying to figure out where some new item goes. The nerve!

The day crew leaves notes on the wall in the back at the end of their shift letting you know what has run out and needs to be ordered. Ok. I get the gameplay aspect here, but why don’t they order. For starters, they’re working during the day. Seems like a normal time to place orders. Second, why can’t I leave notes for them to place orders. Where’s the justice here?!

To place an order you call one of the programmed numbers on the phone and have a conversation with the order people. Easy peasy, until you discover you’re out of something else and need to call them again. I really hope that first order isn’t already on the way

Once you’re ready, you open the store and there’s your game. Different customers want different things. They often come in and vaguely describe something to you through little indication of what they’re after. You have to piece together this information and then suggest something to them. Then, when you present something, they immediately dismiss it as not what they wanted but buy it anyway. “Come on guys, give me another chance. I know I can do better!”

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never thought of walking in a convenience store, dropping some vagaries and then waiting for a recommendation from the clerk. I’m not saying they don’t know what they’re talking about, I’m saying that’s not the place I wander into and have trouble deciding between Flaming Hot Cheetos and a roller hotdog. I know damn well both lead to an unpleasant bathroom visit roughly 25-30 min later

Once the inane conversation window closes you ring up the items they bought, including your bad recommendation. I only mention that again as who among us hasn’t bought something we didn’t want on a recommendation. Weak willed automatons, us. You rotate each so the barcode can be scanned. It’s as rewarding as scanning can be. There are just some things in life that never lose their luster

You also have to clean up messes. Wait. I think the mess was from the day crew. Seriously, who hired these people and what do they do all day?

You interact with an old man, a reporter, a mute J-Pop hair model, and a boy genius. Typically, they come back more than once. I can only assume it’s because I indulged their incessant need to spill the tea (not literally, as then I’d clean it up and dole out a lifetime ban)

“OMG, this is a horror game!”

What the hell am I doing with myself?f I’m reliving the days at the Rockaway Mall, if it were in a rural area and I was the only person in the store. The realism here is grand, however. In one of the greatest game design decisions in this century, and just like in real life, you can choose to go in the bathroom and waste time. If someone asks, however, you tell them you were doing some deep thinking

The horror of this game is there are no entitled customers. No oral surgeons demanding they return a spoiled two day old bento box without a receipt. They’re just regular people who are kind of lonely. From that perspective, the mundanity is actually quite brilliant