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I’m sure at some point you have used those do-it-yourself checkout counters at the supermarket when you have only a few items in your basket. Well I do that quite often and today was no exception. Sometimes those talking checkout screens could be rather annoying with their demanding commands, not sure who is worse, the GPS lady or those checkout ladies.  Who invented these talking gadgets and why not use a ‘male’ voice? I am beginning to think the ‘movie phone’ guy is the only automated male voice out there.

Getting back to my supermarket story…there I am scanning my 5 or 6 items and bagging them as quickly as I could since the “voice” kept insisting I bag my item, which by the way I bagged a few seconds ago. I was trying to bag as fast as I could and apparently was too slow because now I had to see the ‘attendant’…ahhh, hello? I got on the self-serve line to avoid the attendant! Now the attendant was nowhere in sight and I try to trick the automated drill sergeant by pretending to bag the already bagged item. Who was I kidding? Finally, an attendant shows up and does her magic and behold! I am told to scan my next item please.

Finally done, it is time to pay. With my feet throbbing after hours of wearing my “I believe I am taller boots”, I proceed to checkout….’no I don’t have any coupons, no I don’t have my club card (too lazy to fish it out of my full of unnecessary crap purse) now I am told to put my cash in the slot and before I insert my bills I MUST deposit any coins into the coin slot…I tell you, that automated B—– was beginning to get on my nerves with her demands. So I am done, got my change and she proceeds to tell me to remove my bags, receipt and take my change….Did I not mention I DID take my change? Ok I heard you so let me try to put my change in my purse then I will take my bags. Obviously I wasn’t fast enough for the second time she TOLD me I detected a little attitude. Now my change purse zipper is stuck and I’m trying to rush before she commands me again so I throw the damn change in my already messy purse.

Almost done. I close my purse reach for one bag when she yet again TELLS me, PLEASE REMOVE YOUR BAGS ETC, ETC, ETC. I know this time with her attitude there was a hint of sarcasm so I quickly yanked those bags out of there and proceeded to leave fearing she would curse me out and demand I remove the bags, forget the receipt, the hell with my change and get the hell out.

I thought those damn self-service stations were supposed to make shopping easier, quicker and less stressful. Not today it wasn’t.

Eve

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