- 2,051
- 10
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2008
Seems like there are a lot of buttons to press on the screen. English or Spanish, Codes (if it's produce), Quantity, Payment Type, Wanna Donate? Are You Using Your Own Bag?
Every time you reach into your pocket for money thinking the transaction is coming to an end, another prompt comes up. I dunno if it's like this at your local supermarket but at mine there is even a clerk overseeing the self-checkout stands. I mean, I thought the point was to avoid dealing with the clerks? They're all walking behind me asking me how my day is going. Wasn't supposed to be like this, fam.
One time I went around midnight and they had all the self-checkouts turned off and only the Express Lane open. I was rocking some sweatpants and started feeling really self-conscious standing in line with other people wearing some sweatpants. My whole plan from the jump was to sloth my way through the store and not make eye contact with ANYONE and then use the self-checkout and come outta there feeling good about myself. Man, instead I found myself sandwiched in line with all these party peeps on a Sat. night making senseable purchases like deli sandwiches and premium ales, and there I was with blood rushing to my head holding a quart of almond milk and a box of Kaboom tucked underneath my arm. I had to ask myself if this was really life.
Every time you reach into your pocket for money thinking the transaction is coming to an end, another prompt comes up. I dunno if it's like this at your local supermarket but at mine there is even a clerk overseeing the self-checkout stands. I mean, I thought the point was to avoid dealing with the clerks? They're all walking behind me asking me how my day is going. Wasn't supposed to be like this, fam.
One time I went around midnight and they had all the self-checkouts turned off and only the Express Lane open. I was rocking some sweatpants and started feeling really self-conscious standing in line with other people wearing some sweatpants. My whole plan from the jump was to sloth my way through the store and not make eye contact with ANYONE and then use the self-checkout and come outta there feeling good about myself. Man, instead I found myself sandwiched in line with all these party peeps on a Sat. night making senseable purchases like deli sandwiches and premium ales, and there I was with blood rushing to my head holding a quart of almond milk and a box of Kaboom tucked underneath my arm. I had to ask myself if this was really life.