The Lady at the Self-Checkout

On Friday I realized that I had been assigned a fruit salad for Easter Sunday lunch at my mother's and all I had in the house was an over ripe banana and canned peaches. I realized I was going to have to brave the store on the Friday before a holiday. Ugh.

I grabbed my keys and my phone and told the Hubs to send reinforcements if I didn't return in an hour and I headed out the door. 

I arrived at Sam's Club and was greeted by a scene that can only be described as Apocalyptic. People were throwing 20 and 30 pound hams into their carts two at a time, the bakery section was ransacked and only some random birthday cakes were left, the old ladies fighting over the few remaining bags of potatoes looked like they might pull knife, and the butter - oh God, the butter - it was gone. All gone. Not a stick left.

I quickly grabbed what I needed and tried to keep a low profile. There didn't seem to be much hoarding going on in the fresh fruit aisle, but you never know when the mob might turn on you.

I made my way to the checkout only to find the lines at every register 10 or 12 people deep. The self-checkout lines caught my eye. Those tend to move a bit faster, because the people in those lines don't usually have a shit ton that they're buying - the only danger is getting stuck behind a novice. I decided to take my chances with the self-checkout.

Almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake. 

The woman in front of me was more than a novice. She was a numb skull. She had five items in her cart: milk, ham, flowers, butter (where did she find that??), and bread. It took her a solid 10 minutes to check out. She swiped her membership card to start and then read every instruction on the screen:

"Remove the scanning device and begin scanning your purchases." 

"Hmm ... where is the device? What do they mean? This thing? How does it work? Do I just pull the trigger? Ack, my eyes! That laser beam kind of hurts!"

"Just scan the barcodes with it," I tried.

"Just hang on, I don't want to mess this up," she said. She started scanning. After each "beep" she would look at the screen and trace the item line with her finger: "Milk ... OK. There it is. Yeah, I think that price is right." 

"Beep!!"

"Ham ... twenty pounds. Whoa! That is kind of high! I wonder if I will need that much ham? Maybe I should have gotten a smaller one. Oh well, we'll have leftovers for lunches. OK, what's next?"

"Beep!!"

"Bouquet of flowers ... Mmm ... Those smell so good! Did I scan the milk?" 

"Beep!!" 

"Butter ... salted ... five pounds. I should have gotten more butter. That's not going to be enough."

And then it was time for the bread. The bread is a little tricky. You must get two loaves and you scan a barcode on a picture on the counter. Even an experienced self-checker-outer can screw up the bread.

You would think that maybe I would help her out at this point. That maybe I was anxious to be on my way and I'd politely help her figure out the bread situation. But remember, she snapped at me earlier when I tried to tell her how to use the scanner. 

So, nope. I've got nowhere to be. I'll just watch. I just wish I had some popcorn.

She started scanning her one loaf of bread. It would "beep," but when she'd check the display it would show an error. She'd look around sort of confused and helpless, but never once did she look to me or ask me for help. Fine, be that way!

She tried scanning about five more times before an employee finally came to check on her. "Everything OK, ma'am?" he asked.

"No. I can't get my bread to scan."

"Well, you need to do it here," he pointed to the picture of the bread. "Oh, and you need two loaves."

Wait for it ...

"I don't want to two loaves."

Boom.

"Yeah, well, you get two loaves."

"I don't want two loaves."

"I don't know what to tell you, ma'am. We sell it in a two-pack."

"Can't you just charge me for one loaf?"

"No, but you can pay for two and only take one."

"I don't want two loaves and I don't want to pay for two loaves."

"Then don't buy the bread ma'am. I'll put it back for you."

"But I need bread."

"Then go to another store."

And that's when she got mad. "I came here for groceries! I don't want to go to another store."

"I understand your frustration. We sell everything in larger sizes, ma'am. I'd be happy to run back and get you another loaf or return this one. It's your choice, but I need you to choose. There is a long line behind you."

"Forget it! I will get bread somewhere else!"

The employee swiped her loaf of bread and took off.

Now it was time to pay. "Swipe credit card or choose cash."

"Debit," she said.

"Just swipe it," I said. I was finally ready to go.

"Hold on. I need to push the 'debit' button first." She slowly and deliberately pushed the touch screen.

She swiped her card. "Bad swipe. Please swipe again." She swiped again. And again. And again. "Beep!"  Finally! Success!

We waited a few seconds and nothing happened. A few more.

"Where is the receipt?" she asked. We both know they won't let you out the doors without your receipt.

"It comes out below," I said. "Is the machine out of paper?"

She looked at the screen, "Please replace scanning device correctly for receipt to print."

She hadn't hung up the scanning gun thing properly and now the receipt wouldn't print. Who knew the machine did that? I didn't. Know why? Because I've never not hung up the scanning gun properly. How does that even happen? My kids can hang it up without issue!

She jostled the scanner around a few times until it finally clicked into place and her receipt printed out and she slowly wheeled her cart out into the melee to get out the doors before someone jacked her for her butter.

I was so busy watching her show that I didn't keep track around me, but I'm guessing at least three people made it through the self-checkout line next to me while this train wreck tried to buy her five - no, now it was four - items.

I should have known better than to venture out on a day like that. Next time I will plan ahead or I will offer to bring canned peaches for lunch. I always have those on hand.