Until tonight I really thought I was starting to get the hang of these self service check outs at the supermarkets: although I still think ‘servicing myself’ sounds a bit dirty, don’t you?
When I first encountered them I was horrified. How did they expect me to do this? I’d had no checkout chick experience. And to whom was I to direct my witty banter? The thing I miss most about self service check outs are the interactions with staff where I’d say something benign and they’d be contractually obliged to find me amusing.
Then I discovered something. Something amazing. Saying nothing at the counter is a lovely extension of cruising the supermarket aisles childless and blissfully mute. These days it’s my new favourite bit about ducking down to the shops for something: second only to singing loudly to whatever the hell song takes my fancy in the car on the way there and back.
So, needless to say, I’ve had some experience beeping my way through the checkout.
Which was why, when I went to scan my items through tonight, I was miffed as to why the thing wouldn’t work. Several times I ran the biscuits under the screen and waited for the bip. Nothing.
And then, just as I was about to look around for a staff member to fix the stupid machine, a nice girl with an amused expression walked up on the other side of the screen.
“I think it’s broken,” I told her, gathering up my basket. “I’ll go to another one.”
“No, it’s alright,” she said. “I’ll put them through for you.”
And she did. Easily. On her side of the ‘express’ lane. I’d missed the self service lanes by a good six meters.
“Tell me,” I pleaded, “that I’m not the only person to have done this.”
“Naw, we get heaps.”
Which might explain why she looked so cheery. Good to know though, in a crisis, I’ve still got the ability to put a smile on the checkout chicks’ faces.
Anyone else feel like fessing up?
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It really does make a difference Thanks.
“Raising a family on little more than laughs”