I was invited to dinner at a friend’s house, so I stop at a supermarket on my way and get a bottle of white wine and some flowers. As it was Friday later afternoon, I am not alone in the store, and all checkouts have lengthy queues of customers with their weekly shopping.
Aarg, methinks, should I wait 20 minutes just to pay for these two items, and be late for dinner on top of it?
Reluctantly, I marched along the aisles until I come to the self check-out counters.
Scan your first item, the machine tells me. Bunch of roses, OK.
The next item is of course the wine, which sends the machine into red alert, asking to seek an assistant. Said assistant doesn’t get my humour when I ask her to confirm that my age exceeds 18 (or 21, or whatever else is required to buy a bottle of regular white wine in California). A couple of paranoid questions for date of birth and picture ID later, I am finally permitted to make my purchase and give them my money.
I have always disliked these machines, and it’s not getting better. They want my money, so they should better make an effort to take it. I’ll be at the Hi how are ‘ya and Do you need help with the packing and Would you need an extra bag for this checkout again next time.