Holoshop
When AGI meets festive shopping
December 23rd , the near future ?
Rebecca stood in her holosuite at 9 PM, absolutely calm. Three years ago, she would have been panicking—driving through rain-slicked Seattle streets, fighting for parking downtown, settling for gift cards because everything good was sold out.
Now she was Christmas shopping across her city and neighboring towns simultaneously, holographically present in stores she’d never have time to visit physically. And she’d be done in an hour.
“Start with Pike Place Market,” she told the system.
The walls of her apartment dissolved. She was standing inside a specialty toy store near the waterfront, holographically present during their extended holiday hours. A clerk materialized, smiling warmly.
“Welcome! Looking for anything specific?”
“My nephew loves trains. Show me something unique.”
The clerk led her through the store—Rebecca walking in place while the visual feed shifted around her—to a display of locally made wooden train sets. The craftsmanship was evident even through the projection: each piece hand-carved by a woodworker in Ballard.
In the old world, this would have required driving downtown, finding parking, hoping they had something in stock, then rushing home through traffic.
Now: she saw it clearly, spoke with someone who understood the product, examined every detail through the high-resolution feed. Purchase confirmed. AGI logistics calculated the route: autonomous pickup from Pike Place, drone delivery via the Seattle distribution network. Arrival: December 24, 2 PM. Cost including delivery: $200.
Forty seconds, start to finish.
“Next: Bellevue,” Rebecca said.
The Pike Place store dissolved. She was standing in an upscale boutique on Bellevue Square’s third floor, virtually browsing their evening inventory.
“My mother,” Rebecca explained to the attendant. “She likes scarves but has hundreds. Something different?”
The attendant thought for a moment, then led Rebecca to a corner display. “This arrived this morning—a collaboration between local designers and Indigenous artists from the Tulalip reservation. Each piece is unique.”
Rebecca examined the scarf—deep blues and silvers, patterns that shifted as the attendant moved it. She could see individual threads, intricate weaving rendered in perfect detail by the holonet.
“Perfect. Deliver to 265 Prospero Street, Queen Anne.”
The boutique’s autonomous vehicle would bring it within hours, coordinated with her other purchases.
“Redmond next. Gaming stuff for my teenage daughter.”
The boutique faded. Rebecca stood inside a gaming shop near the Microsoft campus. This time, she wasn’t alone—three other holographic shoppers browsed alongside her, translucent avatars from wherever they were physically located. Tacoma, maybe. Everett. Portland.
“Excuse me,” one of them said—a woman in her forties from Olympia. “Are you shopping for a teenager too?”
“Sixteen-year-old daughter.”
“Same! Mine wants a VR setup, but I have no idea what’s good.”
The Redmond clerk noticed and approached both of them simultaneously—one person, holographically present to multiple customers. “Let me show you our newest systems. Microsoft just released these locally.”
The two women—one in Seattle, one in Olympia—spent fifteen minutes shopping together, comparing notes, the clerk demonstrating products through their respective feeds. They both ended up buying the same VR rig, laughing at the coincidence.
Rebecca’s daughter would get her gift delivered by drone that evening. And Rebecca had made a friend in Olympia. They exchanged contact details before parting.
Try that in a pre-AGI shopping mall.
By 10:15 PM, Rebecca had visited stores across the Puget Sound region. She’d purchased wooden trains from Pike Place Market, a scarf from Bellevue supporting Indigenous artists, VR equipment from Redmond, artisanal chocolate from a Fremont chocolatier, a custom leather journal from a craftsperson in Capitol Hill, specialty coffee beans from a roaster in Georgetown, and a handmade guitar strap from a shop in Tacoma.
Total time: 71 minutes. Total travel distance holographically: ~150 km across the region. Physical travel distance: zero. Total packages arriving via the autonomous delivery network: seven, all coordinated by AGI logistics to arrive within a three-hour window.
Total stress level: minimal.
Compare that to last decade’s Christmas shopping: fighting I-5 traffic, circling for parking in the rain. Then settling for “good enough” because you were exhausted. Or ordering online and praying it matched the photos—paying extra for same-day delivery that might not arrive, then returning half of it after Christmas.
December 24, 2 PM: seven packages arrived via coordinated drone drops and autonomous vehicles. Rebecca had them wrapped by 4 PM. Until her next AGI driven enormous pay rise (and that home automation splurge), wrapping was still on her.
Even with holography and pervasive autonomous delivery, plenty of festive shoppers still went out into the crowds— for the authentic in person festive shopping experience.
Unsurprisingly once AGI changed the rules of the game, AGI-era economics had transformed in-person festive shopping too.