A Rant About Self-Checkout
I was in a bad mood.
It was one of those days at work where everything just piles up on you. The over enthusiastic office nerd who is just itching to high five someone. My stupid computer throwing a hissy fit for the twenty-fifth time this week. The patchouli-soaked assistant manager with his “Teamwork makes the dream work” answer to everything except the actual question. That piece of shit robber baron of a vending machine. I swear I’m going to murder that son of a bitch one day.
Then there was traffic. And people. The lady in the crosswalk with her dog in a stroller. That is not walking your dog! The oblivious vaping Bluetooth dude walking into traffic like we all owe him safe passage. Then there is the car somewhere nearby with the bass cranking so loud your teeth hurt.
All this while being assaulted by my own idiot brain poking at me with “Why are we here?” Is there a greater purpose to our existence?” Why are they called grape nuts?” I mean, make a choice, already.
I had to pick up a few things at the grocery store on the way home. I get in there and to my surprise, it's not too crowded. I grab my mini cart and quickly do my shopping. I head for the self-checkout line. Only two people line. Cool.
While patiently awaiting my turn, I was thinking about the concept of self-checkout. Is it an analogy for introspection? Why is it called a cash register? Is currency required to fill out registration forms? Is the guy in front of me really buying four pineapples and a box of pop tarts?
Oh, good, it's my turn.
I pull up and position my mini cart. I grab a paper bag, set in on the counter and start to scan my groceries when I hear “Unexpected item in the bagging area” Immediately, I’m talking to the machine. “It’s a bag. Is it so unusual to find a bag in the bagging area? Unexpected item in the bagging area” Now the gloves are coming off! Look, A I, if it was a monkey or a carburetor, I could understand your confusion but it’s a fucking bag, you miserable piece of….the screen flashes PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE! Oh great, now I’m the idiot.
I look around to determine from which direction the assistance is going to come only to notice that there are now at least seventeen people waiting for a slot. The anxiety level is starting to rise.
This snotty little associate shows up with her purple hair and her face and whips out her special card with the secret store codes and runs it through the card reader, jabs the screen thirty-seven times, snatches the bag and hands it to me. “You can scan your items now, sir” I ask, “Where should I put the bag?” She said something but I knew what she meant. She rolls her eyes and trundles off.
I scan my items and go to pay. I put my card in and get the CHIP CARD MALFUNTION message. I pull it out and reinsert it. CHIP CARD MALFUNCTION USE MAGNETIC STRIPE READER. I dutifully follow instructions. I immediately get the CHIP CARD DETECTED PLEASE INSERT CARD….I am about three seconds away from losing my shit when I see the WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE MESSAGE. If I get that same associate, things are going to get ugly.
Fortunately, for all involved, I get the middle aged paunchy balding guy with black rimmed glasses. He whips his magic card through, pokes the screen and says “It should be all good now” I insert my card and mercifully, it works. After thanking him, I bag my stuff and leave.
As I exit the store, this homeless man selling homeless newspapers hits me up for some change. Instead of blowing him off like I normally do, I stop and look directly into his eyes.
Two thoughts simultaneously collide in my brain. The first was, if Monday had a face, his would be it. The second one was, this guy is trying. This is his job.
I put down my bag and pull out my wallet. I hand him ten dollars.
He says, “God Bless you brother” and shakes my hand. The look in his eyes was as sincere as it gets. I say, you are welcome and go to my car.
After stowing the goods and climbing in the driver’s seat, I just sit there for a minute. That brief exchange between two human beings had changed my entire outlook. In less than a minute, the cumulative angst of the whole day just disappeared.
It occurred to me that despite how messy and messed up we are, I would much rather have other people to deal with in life than the infinitely more infuriating imitation of intelligence of the inanimate.
As it turns out, self-checkout really is an opportunity for introspection. Who knew?
