Your Senses Please
Darley Street
Ep 2 - Your Senses Please - Season Three
By Steve Gray
The morning air inside Sally’s Bookstore smelled of burnt espresso and desperation. Sally, the shop owner, was currently losing a staring contest with the monthly spreadsheet. Retail was difficult, Rex had just called in sick with ‘chronic vibe fatigue,’ and the universe was offering no lifelines.
Then, the bell above the door chimed.
In walked a man wearing a casual but professional outfit so sharp it looked like some sort of hazard to children. He didn’t look like a customer; he looked like a person who had never eaten a carb in his life. He glided to the counter, looked Sally straight in the eye, and passed a minimalist matte-black card with two hands, very Chinese business-like.
Sally blinked. The front of the card simply read: Hello, I’m Robert from Sensorial.
Sally turned it over. The back held a glossy QR code, his full name, Robert Sims, and a phone number. Robert didn't say a word. He just stood there, smiling with the terrifying confidence of a man who knew exactly how long Sally had been wearing her current apron.
Sally responded. ‘Hello? I'm Sally Finch.’
Robert’s smile widened by precisely two millimetres. The trap had sprung.
‘Well, Robert, Sally sighed, glancing at the card. ‘Tell me more?’
"Thanks for the invitation, Sally,’ Robert chimed, his voice smooth enough to lubricate an engine. ‘We work with organisations to increase their sales by using a simple process using sensorial impressions. The benefit to your organisation is not just sales, but more effective connections with your prospects and customers. All I ask is that you check out our website, watch the video, and if it’s of interest, you register. Then, I come back and take things further.’
He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a sleek, metallic device that resembled a cross between a high-end webcam and a cyberpunk praying mantis. ‘But why wait for a video when the future is already in your shop?’
Before Sally could invoke the trespass laws, Robert had placed the device to the side of the shop’s ancient desktop computer.
‘Meet the Sensorial Unit,’ Robert beamed. ‘Camera. Microphone. Facial recognition. Voice analysis. It assesses your interactions in real-time.’
On the dusty monitor, a box snapped into life. It instantly boxed Sally’s face in neon green, flashing text that read: Subject: Sally Finch. State: Mildly Aggravated / Destitute.
‘Hey!’ Arthur objected.
‘Ignore the mood algorithm, it's calibrating,’ Robert waved a hand dismissively. ‘Look what happens when a customer walks in. The system shows you their latest photo, their name, and what they bought last time. As their profile develops, it feeds you deeper insights where required.
Just then, the bell chimed again. Maggie, a neighbourhood regular who spent forty-five minutes choosing a muffin every Tuesday from next door at Eclectica, walked in to browse.
The computer beeped. Maggie’s face appeared on screen next to a dossier.
Name: Margaret Higgins.
Last Purchase: 1x Blueberry Muffin (Extra Butter).
Note: Appreciates compliments about her cardigan.
‘Incredible,’ Sally whispered, temporarily forgetting any existential dread.
‘It gets better,’ Robert purred, leaning over the counter like a tech-savvy vampire. ‘The system holds all information securely in-house. It’s never shared. However... if another Sensorial system in another shop down the street has detected that same person in the last hour? It relays that data. It happens in advance. Sally, you can literally see who’s coming."
Sally stared at the screen. ‘So if the customer goes to the boutique across the road, gets rejected by a jacket that doesn't fit, and walks here…’
‘You have an insight into her emotional vulnerability before she even touches your door handle,’ Robert concluded triumphantly. ‘It allows you to be hyper-focused on what they like, dislike, and how to market to them via social media. It tracks their language styles, their behavioural patterns, and their emotional triggers.’
‘Is it legal?’ Sally asked, fascinated.
"Yes, we put a small sign on the window to advise people of your use of facial recognition devices,’ Robert mentioned smoothly. ‘And scalable. The more you allow the system to do, the more it costs, of course. We are flexible. Payable in Crypto, credit card, or PayPal. But here is the crown jewel, Sally: predictive cross-pollination.’
‘Say that again but in English?’
‘Sensorial helps you find items your customer might have an interest in, based on subconscious cues and past data. For instance, in a food shop, if the system remembers that last time they bought ingredients to make Mexican food, it won't just suggest more jalapeños. It will subtly nudge them. 'Why not try some Spanish foods today?' It bridges the culinary gap. After a while, customers won't just see you as a food shop. They will see your organisation as a destination that is uniquely, magically helpful.’
Sally looked from Robert, to the glowing green box around Maggie's head, and then down at her pathetic spreadsheet. The future was creepy, possibly expensive, and apparently run by a man who didn't blink. But he also promised to help pay her bills, with a money-back guarantee.
Sally was impressed but wanted to know more. She said she would take a look into the website and what it had to offer. Robert smiled, suggested that he would catch up soon, but only if she wanted to: ‘Remember to register on the website, and I will drop by.’
Robert packed up his gear and bid Sally a good day.
She chatted to Maggie briefly, and then, as she left, Sally took a look at the Sensorial website, it didn’t take long before she was wowed by what they had to offer.
No two days were the same in Darley Street; people come, and people go. Today was possibly a glimpse into a more profitable future.
Steve aims to inspire and/or raise awareness of topics. His writing can take abstract turns, and his 'Odd Angry Writes' on his website, are sure to turn heads with his aggressive approach to topics.
A background in Art and Design often gives his written pieces a unique creative perspective.
Like many, he is an ADHD person with some neurodiverse edges. A bunch of e-books under his belt and some honourable mentions in the Geelong Writers Group puts his work in the spotlight occasionally.
