For those of you gamers out there, you’ll immediately know what I’m talking about when I say NPC.

For those of you who have yet to embrace the art of gaming, let me explain.

In many games, there are characters you can play (the PCs, or playable characters) and characters you can’t play (the NPCs or non-playable characters). Though the term NPC can apply to a character who is important to the PC or the storyline, usually NPC refers to background characters — characters like townsfolk and the shopkeepers in the Elder Scrolls series.

Games like “Assassin’s Creed,” “Dishonored” and so forth pretty much ignore NPCs. The NPCs are there to enrich the main character’s environment. They are there to provide services like selling the character more ammo or even being a human shield depending on the type of game you are playing. They are not really even characters so much as human-shaped props.

However, the Elder Scrolls series, specifically the most recent installments of “Oblivion” and “Skyrim,” turned each NPC into a character in their own right. They each have names.

They each have lives. In “Oblivion,” for example you can find an NPC who has absolutely nothing to do with any quests or the main character sneaking out every couple of nights to sleep with another woman NPC.

So, I’ll bet a bunch of you are wondering why I’m giving this textual lecture on NPCs. Well, I’m an NPC. Yes, I know, I’m not really an NPC. I’m more than just code turned into pixels turned into pictures. I am flesh and blood, and a PC in my own life, but hear me out.

I work front desk in a hotel. I am an NPC for a paycheck. I have a “scripted” bunch of lines I repeat to each guest. I am there for them, at their every beck and call.

I’ve worked in the service industry before, too. Anyone who has ever worked in a “serve the customer” job can say (without much worry of being disputed) that we don’t really “exist” to customers.

Think about it. Do you really know the name of the waiter who just introduced herself to you, or are you looking at your menu? Do you really think much about the fact that you’re fifth on the list of people who want more pillows when you yell at the desk clerk for taking too much time to deliver them to your room? At a retail store, do you think about how much work goes into making the racks of clothing look pretty before you reach in and mess them up? When stuffing dollar bills in the stipper’s thong, do you think much about how he is putting himself through law school?

Service industry workers are just as objectified as strippers. I know that sounds like a really big claim, but think about it. Each of those workers are there to enrich your life, cater to your desires. We are your NPCs.

It gets even darker when you start thinking critically about it.

As a front desk clerk, I am selling a company. My face and my attitude are what can make or break the sale of a room or the return of a customer. The same goes for a restaurant worker or a sales associate. In a way, we are selling ourselves in our attitudes, appearances and actions.

I am not anywhere near as outgoing and charming in real life as I am at my job — I am outgoing and charming when on the clock because that is what I am selling: a hotel with a happy, friendly staff.

Each service industry worker is human, with their own lives and own wants and needs. Being the NPC to your PC at their jobs is only one facet of their incredibly complex lives. I’m not saying that you should ask every worker for their life story. I’m simply asking you to remember that we are not objects, not NPCs, but people too.

Yes, when we mess up at our job, you have a right to be upset. Yes, we know you don’t really care much about our personal struggles. All I ask is that you acknowledge that we have them. I’m not asking you to try to change it all at once, but I am asking you to be aware of it. The first step of ending objectification is to be aware.

Acknowledge the worker and those around you as individual people, each with rich, colorful lives. It really is that easy.

Kjerstine Trooien is a staff writer for The Dakota Student. She can be reached at [email protected].