So I have become a familiar face to the big place that warehouses all things for home repairs, you know, without mentioning names, the orange apron people. Endless summer projects, stealing every minute of my already action packed time with cement work, yardwork, electrical, roofing, plumbing, drywall, (paint can wait) and then, oh, there is the ‘real’ job, the one that pays the bills so I can buy more mortar….
But…. the thing that cracks me up without fail, is the guy/gal at checkout. Invariably, they being idle and looking like they can use a customer, point us patrons to the ‘self checkout.’ Uh hello?
You are directing me to a place that will be your demise? One would think she would be slow to send us to the checkout that will seal her fate as unemployed. Look lady, I am doing you a favor. I prefer a human that actually opens their mouths when uttering words, instead of the ‘pleeze-pro-cede- to-the- scan-ner-and-in-sert-card………’ mindless bot, with you almost talking back to the stupid machine.
So instead of you being helped by ONE person who could have checked you out in 30 seconds, you stand foggy eyed because the machine doesn’t recognize the bar code of your elastomeric bucket of sealant. Nice. Ding ding, whistles are blowing, lights are flashing.
Caution! Danger! Step away from the register with your hands up! Yeah well, I am exaggerating, but the self checkout now involves 10 employees who are all clueless as to ringing up the sale that is supposed to be ‘easy’ for you!
So no lady, don’t be so fast to send me to the express lane, for you see, I am familiar with ‘easy.’ It’s like meeting your daughters new boyfriend who boasts of his art, and you say, ‘So, you are unemployed?’
Things are never as they seem, so when I patiently wait in a line of ten people to check out with a human, while the self checkout is empty, there is a reason. I can have my roof shingled, showered, and out to dinner before the tekkies figure out how to stop the beeps in the easy aisle!
And ye business owners, pay attention. Speed is not necessarily valuable. Sad thing though, we are living in a generation where young people would rather interact with machines. It’s a scary world out there, and people are being primed to gladly accept that deceptive tattoo/and/ or chip that promises the life of Riley.
Me? I’ll rebel as long as I can, and when I see you in the long line, we can chat while we shun the empty self checkout which will involve 7 employees and 2 managers. Speed can wait, tempis fugit needs no help from me. Time flies as it is.