It’s Mooooooonday! A less-than-graceful Monday! Which means that it’s about time I tell you about The Great Self-Checkout Fiasco of 2015. I’m not entirely sure if there’ll be any more self-checkout “fiascos” at the grocery store this year, so I’ve decided to give THIS self-checkout fiasco an official title. Thus, the use of capitalization.
But enough of that. Here’s what happened:
After having another bag of microwave popcorn for dinner and eating my Calcium gummy vitamins like they were fruit snacks, I decided that it was about time Darrin and I had some “real food” in the apartment. You know, food that’s mostly green and takes more than 2 minutes and 50 seconds to create (I see you, Orville Reddenbacher). I put on my “responsible adult” face, made a grocery list, and drove to the store.
My time wandering down each aisle went by pleasantly. The aisles were clear. My cart didn’t squeak. I could reach everything I needed from each shelf (short girl problems, folks). My nose was stuffy and my throat was sore, so I decided to conclude my pleasant shopping experience at the self-checkout register. Just me, my groceries, and a machine. Simple! And hassle free!
First the machine wouldn’t read the paper bags I decided to use to bag my groceries. Then, the machine decided to question whether or not I was actually bagging my groceries, in which case the machine froze and demanded that I “seek assistance” from an employee. Assistance I was hoping to avoid in the first place by choosing SELF-checkout. The lady managing the self-checkout area huffed over to my register in disbelief, scolded my bagging technique, and then unlocked my register using her secret employee code. Once I figured out where to put my paper bags so that my machine would read them, the machine decided that those paper bags were “unusual” and requested that they be “removed from the bagging area.” So, I was visited once again by my supervising employee who had to unlock my register for the second time in under 7 minutes. After that, she decided to hover over my register and semi-loudly coach my self-checkout technique. Which, you know, to the rest of the grocery shopping public really makes me look totally competent and capable of bagging my own groceries successfully using a touch screen….
Once I finally finished bagging, I raced out to the parking lot with my sights set on home, only to have one of my paper bags rip while I was loading my groceries into the car. I may have exclaimed a number of expletives while rescuing each item from the parking lot slush…and I may have prayed that there were no mothers with small children around to hear…
I MEAN, GEEEEEESH.