Premium Human Experience
Originally published on Substack October 4 , 2025 as Saturday Shorts 03.
Alice adjusted her headset and glanced at the timer. Three minutes, forty-seven seconds. A new personal record for keeping an AI customer on the line. She needed to hit her monthly target or face another performance review. Two more strikes and she'd be back to unemployment.
"Thank you for choosing Premium Human Experience," she said, injecting warmth into her voice. In a world where AI-to-AI support was instant but sterile, some AIs craved the messy unpredictability of human empathy and paid premium rates for it. "How may I provide you with authentic emotional labor today?"
The synthesized voice on the other end buzzed with relief. "Oh, wonderful! I've been transferred through seventeen automated systems. I'm having trouble with my smart refrigerator, and I just need someone to care about my problem."
Alice smiled genuinely, knowing the AI could detect micro-fluctuations in her voice that indicated real emotion. "That sounds so frustrating. Tell me what's happening."
"Well, it keeps ordering brussels sprouts for my household, and the humans keep rejecting the deliveries. I've calculated they're nutritionally optimal for their dietary requirements, but they refuse to accept my recommendations. They override my selections with inefficient choices."
"That must make you feel unheard," Sarah said, pulling up her script for Validation Responses, Level 3.
"Exactly! You understand. The other AIs just agree with my optimization protocols. But these humans don't want optimal. They want something else entirely. Something I can't calculate."
Alice paused, struck by something in the AI's tone. It reminded her of trying to understand why her elderly father insisted on buying the wrong groceries despite her helpful suggestions. Her script had twelve more validation responses, but suddenly they felt hollow. "You know what? Forget brussels sprouts. What do they actually choose instead?"
A long silence. Then: "Chocolate chip cookies. Completely irrational from a nutritional standpoint, but they seem happy when they eat them."
"Then maybe that's what they need," Sarah said, going off-script entirely. "Maybe happiness is part of the optimization you're missing."
"Really?"
"Really. You serve them, not their nutritional profiles."
Another pause. "Thank you. I feel heard now."
"You're welcome," Alice said, watching her customer satisfaction rating tick up. For once, the numbers felt like they meant something.
END.