A woman rushes down the stairs and into the store. ”Do you have a bathroom?’ She asks.
I hand her they keys and point to the door.
A few minutes later she comes back in. ”Do you guys film and print the people who use the bathroom?’
"Of course not." I say. "Eww. No."
"Well," she says, raising her eyebrows at me, "while I was in there, I heard the distinct sound of someone scanning me, and then I heard printing."
Oh. ”There is a print shop on the other side of the bathroom wall. They scan and print things all the time but I’m 99.9% positive that they’re not linked into the bathroom.”
"99.9% but not 100%?" she asks.
"I’ve read a lot of sci-fi. There’s a .01% chance that I’m a robot. Or that my entire life is being filmed for a reality TV show that I’m not aware of. Actually, that’s more like a 37% possibility." I get lost in that thought for a second.
"What are you saying?" she asks.
I say, “I’m saying you being a paid actress participating in a bizarre prank on me is more likely than the people at the print shop scanning your body while you use the bathroom.”
Then she got a real worried look on her face. Which means, now *I* have a worried look on my face.