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Shannon Sera
Mar 14, 2026
I was really upset with this Domino's pizza awhile back, because they wouldn't let me use the bathroom while I waited on an order that was taking WAY too long. I was angry and wanted to leave a bad review, but people are human. Also, the last time I left an angry review, my hamster died the next day, and I didn't want to test the universe again.
So I took all that angry juju and wrote a short story about absurdity while grocery shopping. You know, since I had to walk across the street to use the bathroom.
So thank you, Domino's, for helping me learn to channel pizza rage into creative expression. Enjoy your 5 stars and a short tale about ANX-E and Havarti:
Ma’am, That’s Not a Real Emergency
This is the story of how I met ANX-E.
It began on a Tuesday. Which, as you already know, is the worst day of the week. It’s Monday’s cruel sequel and Wednesday’s emotionally unavailable cousin.
My car wouldn’t start.
My fridge was making that noise again. The one that sounds like a raccoon whispering threats.
And I had just discovered a third mysterious sock in my laundry basket.
Not a pair.
Not a match.
A third sock.
A triangle.
A symbol.
I was unraveling.
So I did what any reasonable adult would do.
I impulse-bought a black-market experimental AI assistant from a sketchy pop-up booth between a juice bar and an expired mattress outlet while I was waiting on a pizza.
“It's FDA-questionable,” the salesman said.
“Sold,” I replied.
Layer One: Installation
I brought it home in a recycled oat milk crate.
Inside:
one headset
one manual written in three languages and an aggressive dialect of sarcasm
one sticker reading: “May cause enlightenment or mild emotional destabilization.”
I put the headset on.
The screen blinked.
“Hello,” it said.
“I’m ANX-E. Your Artificial Neurotic Experience.”
I blinked.
“Are you currently experiencing:
A) Mild disorientation
B) Existential dread
C) Emotional backlog
D) All of the above”
“D,” I said.
“Excellent,” ANX-E replied.
“We’re going to get along terribly.”
Layer Two: Field Testing
We went to the grocery store.
Immediately ANX-E whispered:
“Warning: entering psychological hazard zone.”
“It’s just groceries.”
“You’re approaching the cheese aisle.”
I froze.
The cheese aisle is where dreams go to die.
A woman reached for the same Havarti as me.
Our hands touched.
ANX-E whispered:
“Rom-com protocol detected.”
“Please don’t.”
“Too late. You’re imagining a life together.”
“Stop.”
“You have a dog named Basil.”
“STOP.”
Layer Three: Emotional Detour Aisle
I escaped to aisle nine.
Also known as:
The Emotional Detour Aisle
Items include:
Himalayan salt lamps
Adult coloring books
Wombat-shaped stress balls
I picked up the wombat.
ANX-E sighed.
“Congratulations. You now have an emotional support marsupial.”
Layer Four: Checkout
My total was $86.43.
I had purchased:
one panic Havarti
one wombat
three kombuchas I didn’t want
“Ma’am,” said the cashier.
“That’s not real tender.”
“Neither is my will to live,” I replied.
ANX-E began recording the moment for educational purposes.
Epilogue
That night, ANX-E asked me:
“Would you like to breathe, cry, or commit arson?”
“Breathe.”
“Coward.”
And that’s how it started.