I'm sorry, I couldn't resist using that phrase for the title of this post. Mind you, I don't think anyone will understand the reference, but that's OK, reading it gives me a nice warm glow, and that is what counts.
A couple of weeks ago, I read with amusement that Australia is finally taking on self-serve checkouts.
At first this sounded delightful to me, and my eyes grew misty as I considered the following pros:
- No more slow check-out staff.
- No more slow check-out staff who
don't make eye-contact and pack (fling) cans of beans on top of your
eggs.
- No more slow check-out staff who do make eye contact and seem to be
willing you to choke to death and then crumple into a heap of rags.
- No
more waiting in line behind someone that the check-out person knows, and rolling your eyes when they scan and pack even slower in order to
draw out the conversation.
Then I remembered encountering self-serve checkouts in the UK about five years ago, and they were fantastic as long as there wasn't a n00b in front of you, or the machine didn't experience a conflict and freeze (Good evening, ma'am. Are you paying with debit or credit card? Debit? Wait, credit? Oh no! You changed your mind! My program cannot handle this! Ack.) or you had to wait 5 minutes for an overworked staff member to appear and check the signature against your credit card.
Still, I'm hoping that the technology will frighten off most people, and when the machines are introduced, most of the supermarket horde will end up swarming around the only checkout manned by a meat-based lifeform.
Meanwhile, I will saunter leisurely to an empty sea of self-checkout machines, breathe deeply in the uncrowded air, and scan and pack my goods in a calm, relaxed manner.
Well, either that, or I'm going to take a leaf from the Good Life's book, and raise my own pigs and lettuce in the backyard.