Monday 3 August 2015

Do you wish to continue?...

‘Thanks for using the express checkout,’ she said after I eventually managed to get my five items through the self-service process with only three visits from the grumpy keeper of the magic plastic card.

Of course before I could even attempt to scan my five items – a bottle of red, reduced item Stilton, an apple, three bread rolls, and a packet of chewing gum – I had to declare that ‘No, I wasn’t using my own bags’ which always makes me feel really guilty as I have a huge carrier bag full of other carrier bags hanging on the back of my kitchen door. So many carrier bags that it makes it impossible to get the door completely open. I always mean to reuse them, but somehow I always forget.

Anyone know if Woolworth’s carrier bags are collector’s items yet?

Foolishly I started with the wine and immediately the red light started flashing to the declaration of ‘authorisation needed’. Now maybe I’m being oversensitive but having every man and his dog aware that I’ve just bought a cheap bottle of plonk at ten in the morning is just a little embarrassing, particularly as I might bump into some of them at the park later.

For some reason the attendant was, as always, busy doing something else and I, as usual, had to call her over which brought even more attention to my dilemma. The fact that she sneeringly checked her watch as she casually swiped her card, pressed a few buttons, and then walked away laughing, seemed to somehow further underline my shame.

Next up was the reduced item cheese. Not a very big piece, just enough for a ploughman’s lunch really. Now, I’m not a ploughman but I do like a bit of cheese and pickle of a lunch time. The cheese had a barcode, but of course as it was reduced the barcode had been printed with one of those hand held printers and it wouldn’t scan. After five minutes of trying to flatten out the barcode and making dozens of increasingly esoteric scanning swipes I was eventually asked; ‘Do you wish to continue?’ Well, yes I did, so giving up with my swiping I decided to enter the barcode manually and after three attempts actually managed to do it. Huzzah!

I then scanned the chewing gum and placed it in the carrier bag that had taken me three minutes to open and position on the metal prongs at the side of the till. ‘Please place your item in the bagging area,’ said the voice from the machine. ‘I have.’ I cried, then realised I was talking to a pre-recorded message and that I wouldn’t get much of an argument out of it.

I lifted the chewing gum out of the bag and thrust it in again hoping the force of impact would make it appear heavier and register on the scales. 'Unexpected item in the bagging area. Please remove item before continuing.’

Nooooo! How could it be unexpected? She’d just asked me to put it in (fnar fnar), but knowing that resistance was futile I removed the item as requested… The red light began flashing again.

‘Please wait for assistance,’ it said accusingly.

Now when this happens it makes me feel like I’m a thief trying to get away with not paying for my purchase. Reluctantly I had to signal the attendant again and, as she grudgingly pressed a button to bypass the ‘unexpected’ problem, I realised that she was probably ignoring me on purpose as I’ve been shouting at the bloody machine.

The single apple didn’t have a barcode, which was as expected. Unfortunately it didn’t have one of those stickers that tell you what sort of apple it was either, so I couldn’t navigate my way through the minefield of loose products to the right apple with ease. Eventually I gave up and hit the loose carrots button which seemed to do the trick. Well, they’re both organic and good for your teeth aren’t they?

Lastly it was the turn of the bread rolls, twenty-pence each or three for fifty-pence. I knew that I didn’t really need three, but a ten-pence roll was too good a bargain to miss. Sad aren’t I? Of course when the rolls came up on the display monitor they were all charged at twenty-pence, no discount at all! I called the attendant over again and explained that the machine was trying to rip me off. She shook her head and explained - very, very, very slowly - that the discount would be applied at the end of the transaction, then turned and scurried briskly away.

I pressed the button to pay. I was fast losing the will to live and wanted out of that hellhole of a supermarket.

‘Have you swiped your clubcard?’ The devil woman machine enquired. I don’t have a clubcard, but I wasn’t telling her that, she might make something of it. So, not bothering to respond I chose the cash icon from one of the many paying options available to me. My bill came to £6.97 and, as I didn’t want to break into the twenty in my wallet, began fumbling around in my pockets for change.

‘Do you wish to continue?’ The devil machine asked slyly implying that I was taking far too long. ‘Yes, I bloody do,’ I muttered back.

I have no idea why I always feel the need to feed the coins in one at a time, but I do. Perhaps I don’t trust the bloody machine and want to see each penny register before continuing. Anyway, it took me almost five minutes before I’d managed to insert all the various bits of shrapnel from my shaking hand into the machine.

‘Thank you for using the express checkout.’ She said loudly, and then spewed out various bits of paper which I stuffed into my pocket never to be seen again

Express? I don’t bloody think so. There was another fifteen minutes of my life gone that I wasn’t getting back. Next time I’m going to a real person even if there is a really long queue.

,

16 comments:

  1. I'm a relic - I always checkout with a real person even when they're trying to persuade me otherwise. Sometimes it's the only conversation I have all day, and somehow I prefer for a person to have a job. I know that it's old-fashioned of me, but I just don't like "self-checkouts".

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    Replies
    1. I prefer it too Martin. I rarely shop at Waitrose but our local store doesn't have automatic tills, although they do have scanners on some of their trolleys. Maybe I should buy my groceries online and have them delivered like most of my neighbours, but how do you know if you bought the right piece of steak?

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  2. Sharon Taylor
    I don't use them on principle, if asked by an assistant if I wish to use them I usually reply something like "shall I also go and stack the shelves as well?". I am a bit of a grumpy old woman!!!

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    Replies
    1. Andrew Height
      Ha ha - yes that's pretty grumpy even by my standards Sharon.

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    2. Sharon Taylor
      praise indeed.....

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  3. Paul Eddison
    How unexpected can any item in the bagging area really be?

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  4. Steph Rogers on FB
    Hahahaha this is hilarious Andrew Height!! And so reminds me of the many times I've been to asda and my son insists on going to the stupid bloody self service! Everything you've said I've actually been through! Wanting to physically kick the machine in by the time you've finished or the woman has been over about 10 times to sort problem out! Quite agree if I wanted to do this I'd work in a supermarket!!!

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    Replies
    1. Andrew Height
      I always seem to get behind the old lady that has no idea what to do and ends up having it done by the attendant Steph.

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    2. Steph Rogers
      Exactly!! Then we stand there cursing on why the hell did we ever join the que for those bloody ridiculous things!!!

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  5. Neil Barrett on FB
    Hate them, I refuse to even read the instructions.

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    Replies
    1. Andrew Height
      They have instructions Neil?

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    2. Neil Barrett
      B&Q I was ask to follow the instructions but I refused and the lady did it for me , they might as well had a till.

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  6. Vicky Sutcliffe on FB
    Never use them on principle.... No matter how long the queue is for the manned tills!!!

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  7. Lorna Gleadell
    In our local cash & carry they have hand held self scanners, i won't use them either!!

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  8. Seems like we are all in agreement. I hate them too. The checkout people at our Tesco are so nice anyway.

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