Nightmare at the checkout counter
Stop with this scanning stuff! Please! Just stop, already.
What’s with this drama-laden storyline?
It began with the hum-drum task of food shopping. Groceries in the cart, I headed for self check-out. Electronically scanned each item (correctly, the first time, I might add.) Turned my attention to paying. No, sorry, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Apologies. The first step to completing a purchase is deciphering ALL the hieroglyphics on the little doo-hickey payment module that offers you 4000+ different ways to pay.
Here we go! Um….well, gee, I failed at credit card “tapping” last time (I mean, where do you tap?) Let’s give Apple Pay a try. With bated breath, and holding my iPhone at the appropriate distance, zing, it took! (Yay, Jan!) Such an incredible sigh of relief and, yes, accomplishment. Know that feeling?
Uh oh, apparently, my sigh of relief is an abbreviated one. (I just knew it!) The purchase process suddenly becomes a continuous stream of text on the payment module, reading “scanning, scanning, scanning…”
And that “scanning” text just keeps scrolling merrily along. Not merrily for me, however. I’m looking around, in bewilderment, rather like the demonically possessed character whose head spins 360° in the classic movie, “Exorcist.” Did I do something wrong? I was so proud of myself up until this juncture. Seriously….
Apparently my head-turning confusion garnered the interest of the self check-out agent. She came over, ostensibly, to offer first aid for what appeared to be my purchasing trauma. I pointed to the electronic module doo-hickey thing and shared my frustration about the endlessly scanning loop. In a very matter-of-fact voice, she said “They’re communicating with each other.” Excuse me? “They’re communicating with each other.” I don’t know, maybe I really did fall into the “Exorcist.”
It turns out this is AI - artificial intelligence - and thank heavens, not “The Exorcist.” The payment module doo-hickey is communicating with some nearby deus ex machina (god in the machine) in order to tabulate my purchases. You’d think a “god in the machine” would take pity on this confused human and make this whole damn thing easier. I mean, you’d think, wouldn’t you?
Have I mentioned that feeling embarrassed, in public, is my middle name? Oy! Now, I just can’t wait for my next interaction with that payment module doo-hickey thing. Sure. Right. You bet.
Yikes! That would have freaked me out.
Although our local supermarket opens at seven, I make it a point to never get there until eight. That is when the cashier shows up at the 14 items or less line. I always use that one where there is a real human, and I almost never have too many over the limit of 14. Another reason I refuse to use the self-check out is because that machine has taken someone’s job from them to put more money in the pocket of the CEO. Plus I like the interaction of a real human across from me. Besides, if I’m going to pay these exorbitant prices for groceries, there damn well better be a person across the scanner smiling at me and asking if I found everything I needed!
(Oh, and I also refuse to use the tap thingie. I either insert my card or I pay cash.)