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Monday, February 05, 2007

Lasers

It seems like such a simple concept. Perhaps that's why I can't seem to get it to work.

I don't know what kind of special training someone needs to learn in order to successfully use the self-checkout scanners so prevalent in grocery stores nowadays, but I definitely don't have it. Neither does Nathalie.

All I have to do is scan the barcode of my product across the clear glass panel, and then dump the product into a waiting bag. So simple. So simple that the stores hire highschool kids to run the registers. And if a teenager can do it, why can't I?

That's often what goes through my head when I'm choosing between waiting in line behind a lady with a full grocery cart, or going right to the non-occupied self-checkout scanner.

I usually start off pretty well with these scanners, with the scanner recognizing everything, but then the scanner oftentimes becomes acutely suspicious about something.

Grocery Scanner: [In a pleasant female voice] Please remove the last item from the bag and place it on the scanner.

I do as I'm told. A lone can of corn sits on the scanner. After awhile, the scanner decides the can passes muster.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

Again, I follow its orders. I move on and scan a box of herbal tea.

Grocery Scanner: Beep! [$3.99 reads across the monitor]

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

I dutifully do as I'm told and dump the box of tea into an awaiting grocery bag.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

I stand there a bit helpless. I've already put the tea in the bag. So I just wait for the computer to figure it out.

It doesn't.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

Me: I did.

I know that this is going to be a one-sided conversation, but I feel compelled to talk to the scanner anyway.

The scanner and I stand there and stare at each other in silence.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

Me: [annoyed] I did!

Silence.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

I try to just move on and scan a package of tortillas, but the scanner has no intention of moving forward until it's convinced I put the box of tea into a bag. The display screen shows a little computerized movie of how I'm supposed to put my item into a waiting plastic bag. I put the tortillas back into my cart and start jabbing at the screen. Nothing.

Grocery Scanner: Please place the item in the bag.

Aagh! I pick up the box of tea out of the bag, which ironically says "Relaxing" on it, and dump it back in the bag.

Grocery Scanner: Please remove the last item from the bag and scan it before placing it in the bag.

What? I already scanned it once. I'm not going to pay for it again. What kind of a scam is this?

I look around, find the "attendant" checkout person, wave frantically for her to reset my scanner. She does. I move onto my next item.

I scan the box of cookies repeatedly across the scanner window, but it refuses to acknowledge my cookies. Perhaps it's trying to tell me something.

I tag out. Nathalie comes in and tries to scan the cookies. Nothing. We scan the cookies this way, that way, close to the glass, scan quick, scan slow, in circular motions, tilted one way, then another...

Nathalie: You're stupid!

The scanner just jeers back at us in silence.

Again, I wave my hands at the checkout lady, who comes over, picks up the box of cookies, scans it without any trouble, gives us a look of disgust, and then walks back over to her perch.

I notice that the lady with the full grocery cart, who had nearly 10 times what Nathalie and I had in our little basket, is already done and walking out the door. I knew I should've got in a line with a human checkout clerk.

I let out a small sigh and continue with the rest of the stuff in our cart.