Don’t get me wrong: I’m grateful for the Pokémon Centers. The people who work there are polite, competent, and efficient — you never have to wait for more than a few minutes — and, of course, it’s all completely free. It’s a miracle of public health care, really. To top it all off, the staff are unfailingly cheerful. But I can’t quite shake the feeling that sometimes they’re just a little bit too cheerful. The nurses are always so perky and chirpy, and yet they see some pretty nasty stuff every day. How do they do it? Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I had recently been through a pretty stressful experience, after all. But as I sat on the plush waiting room chair, reading an issue of PokéLife that was published before I had the ability to form coherent sentences, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had entrusted Mr. Suds to the care of a facility staffed entirely by identical robots.