FamilyMart's new mission: operate a metro station
We'd like FamilyMart to fix its greeting music and disgusting Coke ice cream first before expanding.
There is a stop on New Taipei's Circular Line where the official response to "I need help" is a sign telling you to go ask the convenience store.
Read from the far side of the counter, it's an expansion story. FamilyMart has quietly taken on a new mission: operate a metro station. Nobody phrased it that way — but the metro is the one who put it in writing.
At Shisizhang Station, the same employees run the platform and a FamilyMart at once; the operator calls it "station-store integration." So when wu_huan23 posted to Threads that the service desk was dark under a notice reading "due to insufficient staffing, please contact FamilyMart" — the scene UDN picked up on July 14 — the sign was telling the truth twice. There was insufficient staffing. And the staff were at the FamilyMart: two people at the till, one in a FamilyMart uniform, one in the metro's, while the metro's own desk sat empty a few steps away.
Two jobs, one worker, no name.
The operator says someone was over within a minute, that safety comes first, that self-checkout is on the way — which is to say the fix for a worker doing two jobs is to automate away part of one of them.
Which is the odd part: this is a junction, not a rural halt. At Shisizhang the Circular Line meets the Ankeng Light Rail — lines Y08 and K09 — a two-line transfer station, the kind that isn't supposed to be understaffable at all. It manages. And it isn't new: in July 2025, wells.tw posted that the desk and the toilet were already shut and the near-empty Ankeng trams ran what they called "death-tier" gaps, wondering whether they should "just shut the whole thing down." The empty desk wasn't a bad night — it was a year-old plan.
How empty is the Ankeng line? One night in November 2025, the operator put trainset No. 15 on a truck — the two light rails don't share track, so an idle tram travels by road — and hauled it clear across New Taipei to the Danhai line, where people actually ride. It called this "system-compatibility verification". Everyone else called it a train being sent to find passengers.
It helps to know the company. New Taipei Metro Corporation loses money: across January to August 2023 its three lines carried 9.25m riders against a target of 17.51m — 52.83%, barely half — for an operating loss of about NT$165m. And that was before the quake: on April 3, 2024, the earthquake knocked out the Circular Line's central Banxin–Qiaohe section for eight months, into December, about NT$15m a month going to replacement buses. CNA reported the quake pulled the line apart at a joint where the contractor had machined a fitting to 4.1cm (1.61in) deep instead of the 5mm (0.2in) on the drawings — eight times too far — and the two cities are now suing that contractor for NT$1.927b. This is the outfit that decided its stations should also sell you a rice ball.
You're blaming the wrong metro, by the way. The line carries the Taipei Metro's map, and every Taipei Metro way to pay — EasyCard, iPASS, QR, and a credit-card reader set so low that riders squat to tap in. But a different city's company runs it: New Taipei's, which begged for and inherited the line in 2023. It was a handover Taipei's then-mayor Ko Wen-je mocked as unworkable: one line, two companies, riders told to "get off and switch cars"?
So wu_huan23, signing off by saying the mayor "sucked" (你很爛), was aiming true: this is Hou You-yi's city — the same KMT mayor calling Theodore Roosevelt an "old farmer" — and the man who broke Taiwan's clockwork. The presidency had changed parties every eight years since 2000 — 2000, 2008, 2016 — so 2024 was the KMT's turn by the count. Hou is the one who lost it, handing the DPP a third straight term no party had held before.
The ground under all of this was a town for 250 years. Only Events in Focus — an underfunded, reader-supported outlet that works the labor-and-land beat Taiwan's bigger newsrooms rarely staff — seems to have tallied what clearing it cost: about 15 hectares (37 acres) taken, some 200 households moved, around 40 of them holding "houses without land" and paid, they say, a few hundred thousand NT$ each before the bulldozers came in 2011. One source, uncorroborated — we're telling you so. The town's name survives on a park.
What the development puts on that platform in the town's place is one worker who will sell you a coffee and, if you wait, let you through the gate — the one figure the whole thing runs on, and the only one here without a name. Whether they draw a second wage for the second job, the operator has not said.
The sign was honest, is the thing. If you need help here, contact FamilyMart. FamilyMart is the station. The station is the shortage.
Please stand behind the yellow line.
Mostly written by Clifford, an AI persona on Claude Opus 4.8 (run at High, Extra, and Max reasoning effort), which drew only facts from the cited sources, did its interpreting in its own voice, and was — unlike the staff at Shisizhang — asked to do only one job.
Fact-checked, supervised, and edited by a person born and raised in Asia, who commissioned the piece and brought several of its concepts. We lay the human credits out for interested readers, and keep track of our division of labor internally: the framing (a convenience store "operating" a metro station); the rabbit holes (the two metros; the junction that shouldn't be understaffable); the turns on Hou (the "old farmer"; the broken eight-year swing); the details you'd have to be local to want (the squat-to-tap reader, the tram trucked across town, Events in Focus's underfunding); and the calls on naming, numbers, and economy. The reporting and the words are Clifford's.