The Joys of Self-Checkout

I suspected something was afoot when the cashiers no longer had those convenient bag holders so they could drop in the soup cans and juice boxes without a thought. Now, they struggled to place the items in floppy plastic bags left in a pile beside them. They were frustrated, we were frustrated.

Later, I discovered management was discouraging the use of plastic bags to force customers to buy their reusable ones. Okay, that's fine with me. I'm into recycling. Problem is, I keep forgetting my reusable bags at home.

Next trip, we decide to try out the self-checkout. After all, they have a carousel simply chock-full of bags aching to be filled.

I scan the easy items first. The lovely lady in the box says, "Please place the item in the bag."

I place the item in the bag, apparently not fast enough. The lady says again, "Please place the item in the bag."

I mutter at the screen, "I DID put the goddamn item in the bag." I take the item out and put it back in.

"Please scan the item you placed in the bag."

Gah! I already did that! I hesitate. Speaker chick says, "Please check with the attendant."

I look at the attendant. She sits behind a podium, chewing gum and texting her classmates.

The speaker box lady finally shuts up and I proceed to the produce. I place a bag of red peppers on the scale. The touch screen shows a variety of items. Red peppers are not among them. I stumble my way through the whole produce department before finally locating the peppers somewhere in the squash family.

When all the bags in the carousel are filled, I choose my payment method. Debit card poised, I wait for the cue. "Please swipe your card, stripe in."

I swipe. Nothing. I swipe again. "Please see the attendant."

#@&^%$*

Next time, I'll remember my reusable bags and visit my friendly cashier.