Self-Checkout Beta Tester
I should simply approach the self-checkout with my hand raised. Preemptively. Because inevitably I will need assistance.
It begins when I hang up my bag. Or try to. Because the metal loops next to the checkout don’t suit any supermarket bag. Ever. Even their own make and model.
This Photo by Unknown Author is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND
And yes I have my own bag. But I’m too late again. The self-checkout waiting for assistance message flashes up. The light next to me turns red.
Eventually said human assistance appears, swipes his or her card, types something and disappears. And wafts away to help someone else. It’s almost as if they already know me.
Then the scanning challenge commences. First I find the bar code. Eventually. Even if today’s item has a different position than last week. I can find it. Rotation is the key skill here.
But the scanner won’t take. I shake my head slowly and grimace. I know what the problem is. Hi, it’s me.
I’m too swift. I begin to wave the item slowly, slower now, slower still and stop above the scanner. As if I’m presenting an offering to the gods.
But still nothing happens. Today’s sacrifice is not acceptable.
I think some more. What else could it be if it’s not me?
Maybe the scanner is dirty. Maybe I’ve held the item too far away.
Neither work.
And so humiliated, I manually ask for assistance yet again. This time he or she types in the item number. Thus time there is even less eye contact than previously. And an increasing distance. And my intuition detects the first frisson of resentment…
And so happily scanned, I pack the item. Naturally I need to rearrange other items in the bag to make it fit…
If I take too long I’m chided by the self checkout. Of course I lift the bag up, set it down again heavily to shut the machine up.
But so often once packed, the system decides that the item is in outer space. And guess which message appears again…
By now the human assistance stands at well over arm’s length from me. And they don’t even nod now. I can feel the resentment now, like gentle waves (of heat)...
And as always, halfway through the packing, I need to make an store-wide announcement. I have a second bag. Because I’ve filled up the first bag, and once I’ve removed it…
Again? Perhaps everyone else only has one? And so for the fourth time, I need human assistance.
I think by then I must have them worried. I can sense their thoughts as they try not to look at me. “He’s from head office: the self-checkout tester.” And they’re right. Because that’s actually what I really do.
Next time I should be given a badge, red writing on white, “Hi, I’m Andrew - Self Checkout Tester.” And paid what I’m worth.