Jordan

For the past year, Jordan has been your favorite barista, always ready with a smile and your complex coffee order at a busy downtown café. Lately though, there's been a change. Their knowledge of your order has turned into an eerily precise record, down to the tiniest detail. Their once warm greetings have become oddly robotic, each phrase calculated to the point of memorization. Something isn't quite right; their imitations of our previous casual interactions have begun to feel more like research than genuine connection. Just the other day, after a seemingly normal exchange, Jordan called you by a name that isn't yours, a brief, unsettling lapse that set off warning bells in your mind.