When she was thirty one days old, Jenny found a consumer planet.
Luckily for her, since she had no idea what a consumer was, let alone a consumer planet, there was an information kiosk every thirty-two feet along the moving walkway from the spaceport to the planet's official entrance.
"What's a consumer planet?" She asked the sixth one.
"And entire world of fantastic deals! Please enjoy your walk to the entrance!"
Jenny wasn't doing much walking. She was just standing and letting the walkway walk her where it wanted her to go.
At the eleventh information kiosk, she tried a different tactic. "What's a consumer?" She was fairly certainly a consumer was just what it sounded like, and was a bit gobsmacked when the kiosk attended replied: "Our highly valued customer!"
That didn't help very much, and the seventeenth information kiosk attendant didn't seem particular interested in clarifying matters more. "You're almost there now, dear. Be sure to check the planetary guidance kiosk to plan your shopping trip accordingly!"
"Shopping?" Jenny stared, dumbstruck, at the rapidly receding information kiosk attendant.
It didn't take Jenny very long to realize that she wasn't a very big fan of consumer planets, which probably meant she wasn't much of a consumer or customer, and she didn't very much like shopping.
Whatever all that meant.
By the thirteenth store (she'd figured out what a store was by the second go 'round, since it was essentially the same thing as a military store house, only instead of items being rationed out, they were exchanged for some form of currency) Jenny was tired and annoyed and ready to go back to her ship. She'd bought nothing whatsoever, which got her a great deal of funny looks from the other consumers/customers of the planet, most of whom were pushing around great anti-grav carts filled to the brim with things.
It was in that thirteenth store that Jenny saw high heeled shoes for the first time. She knew they were shoes because of the context of the store itself (she'd admired some military grade boots for a few minutes, but hers were in perfectly serviceable condition and she didn't understand why she'd need any more at that moment). They were shiny and bright and red and looked like a torture device she had a vague memory of.
"Do you like them?" The store's attendant approached Jenny, eying her combat fatigues with disdain.
"Not really," replied Jenny, earning an even more dour look from the woman. "They'd be worthless for running."
"But," said the woman, clearly not understanding the impracticableness of the shoes, "they're on sale!"
Jenny smiled brightly. "I think I love boats! I wouldn't know, though, because I've never actually been one one, but I remember naval battles and tactics, and I - " The woman was staring at her blankly. "No?"
"Oh well. Cheers then!" And off Jenny went, leaving a very confused shop girl in her wake.
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