Milly’s front door chimes. Her interior wall screen flickers with video of the gray-haired maintenance man standing in the hallway.
She opens up. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to check your chute system.”
Milly points, her thumb dropping like a trigger. “Shoot system?”
“Like, ducts.”
“Ducks?” She smirks.
“A series of tubes.”
“Why?” She steps aside.
The maintenance man enters. “Your smart toaster’s broken.”
“I never use it. I don’t need it fixed.”
He pulls out a screwdriver. “It says I have to fix it.”
“The toaster says?”
“The contract.” He removes a screw from the wall.
“I didn’t sign it.”
“Your landlord did.”
“How long will it take to fix? I have to be somewhere.”
“Oh, I don’t fix it,” he says, twisting another screw.
“What do you do here?”
“I talk to residents so the contractors don’t have to.”
“People skills?” She snickers. “I didn’t ask to speak with you.”
He grins. “Your toaster did.”
“Unreal.” Milly sighs. “I have to go.”
“You can go.” He detaches a wall panel.
“I’m not leaving you alone in my apartment.”
“I can get in any time I want.” The maintenance man holds up his badge.
“How reassuring …”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m safe. Just like this sealed building.”
“What’s wrong?” Milly kneels, peering inside the wall.
“Nothing.” He ambles away.
“Are you messing with me?”
“No.” A click comes from the kitchen. “There — just fixed it.”
She stands. “I thought you didn’t fix things?”
“I don’t. I just unplugged it, then plugged it back in.”
“I could have done that.” Milly joins him at the countertop.
“You wouldn’t have to”—he smiles, tapping his head—“if you used your smart toaster more often.”