Just came back from a trip to one of our local grocery stores and wanted to share a few tips about using the self-check-out lanes. I’m not talking about the ones for when you just have a gallon of milk and a bag of dog food. They’re convenient, and I’ve seldom had a problem with them.
But, my friends, beware of the I’m-now-a-store-employee ones with the moving belts and the multiple bagging stations. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
First of all, I totally understand that grocery store chains are trying to cut overhead costs and like so many other businesses, they can’t get enough help. But really? Only two full-service lanes open on a Friday morning?? They still have to employ people to help customers negotiate with the self-check scanners so why not just put them to work as cashiers?? Might want to see what your competition with stores in nearby towns is doing. I can honestly say I have never waited for more than one person ahead of me in their check-out lanes, even on a day before a holiday. And their cashiers graciously and efficiently bag your groceries all the while carrying on pleasant conversations about how to cook the items you’re purchasing.
But I digress. Today, I had what I would call a moderate number of items in my cart. Too many for the quick lanes but a glance at the two staffed registers showed long lines of people who would potentially write checks to pay for their groceries or argue about expired coupons. So I took a deep breath and headed for the varsity self-check lanes.
Do not attempt this method if you are by yourself. One person cannot unload the cart and get the items scanned and bagged to meet the standards of the dis-embodied voice inside the computer. It can’t be done. I felt like I was in that famous scene from the old Lucy show where she and Ethel were working in the candy factory, and they couldn’t keep up with the conveyor belt. Fortunately, I’m someone who always weighs and labels my produce, because I can’t imagine what trials await those who must “look up” an item.
The first prompt is “Please place your item in the bagging area.” Yes, I’m doing that, give me a minute for God’s sake. When I tried to put the filled bags back in the cart (which still wasn’t empty), the computer yelled at me. “Please do not remove items from the bagging area.” What? Where am I supposed to put all this stuff? And what about my twenty-five pound box of cat litter that doesn’t fit in the bag-holder space? What do I do with that? Then it’s “Are you ready to complete your order?” No, damn it, I’m trying to figure out where to put these bags I’m not allowed to remove from the bagging area. The teenager monitoring all of this came over numerous times to wave his badge in front of the computer which acts as a sort of sedative for the machine. It sighs, re-sets itself and allows you to continue scanning. On one of his trips, he leaned over and said, “I’ll tell you a secret. If you wait until you see the red light on the scanner, you can move your bags into the cart.”
WHAT??? Why don’t they freaking tell us that?? Nothing on the screen says that a red light means you’re in a neutral zone and you can move groceries wherever you want. I missed that during orientation. Oh, I forgot. There was no orientation. I’m just a customer trying to make it easier for the corporate bigwigs to buy another yacht. Sorry—didn’t mean to be snarky but there is some truth to that.
I finally completed the transaction with my groceries shoved haphazardly into bags—not my usual neat and efficient process which has prompted cashiers to ask, “Were you ever a bagger?” It probably took as long as if I had stood in line behind the check-writers. Here’s a thought. Maybe take that creepy robot who wanders around the store dodging carts and making a general nuisance of himself and teach him to run the registers.