Yes I love the idea of popping through quickly with the four items I've selected. Why not? I'm feeling devil may care...
It's only a tin of spaghetti, ham, tomatoes, and an air freshener. How much harm can it do (cue Miss Marple music...)
Ooops no I don't like the way this scan thing won't recongise my item.Have I picked a dodgy one?
Beep at long last.
Ah yes. It's gone through now. Only three more items to go. Grin.
Eyebrows waggle. It doesn't like the ham either - it's refusing to read my barcode. Should I go buy them some Mr Sheen? Should I squirt before I scan?
Yes. It's gone through. But. Hold breath.It says it's not in the bag.
It's there. Honestly. Ham present and correct.
No I do not wish to have to argue with a machine that tells me I have not placed my boiled ham in the bagging area (it's in there, I can see it - stop, stop, stop!) Everyone gather round, and bear witness to my ham!!!
A 'Seek Assistance' alert flashes. Are they going to bring on a straight jacket? The invisible ham squad?
Yes. Here comes dedicated smiley lady. I smile hopefully and explain.
The ham's there (see, pointing now, see). I only pressed the 'don't want to bag it' button as a last resort to shift the not in there screen. Should I then remove the ham? It scanned already!!! Is it up to tricks to vex me?
She says it's my fault for pressing the button. She thinks I am strange.
I stare at my ham. It's still there.
Does she not believe my ham was blissfully ignored? Is it Bermuda Triangle ham?
She scans her special scanner talisman and excuses me like a madlady.
No stop! Said to small toddler by my side...do not put your fingers on the bagging area! It causes impending doom...oh no. Here she comes again to give me a row about the tomatoes.She's glaring, shall I throw one at her?
I explain at length = toddler was bored and unduly tempted by the eye level curly wurly. In her defence toddler is losing the will to live much as I am. If the wine aisle was nearer I would be grabbing everything and scanning as I glug.
In summation it would have been quicker to stand in a very long queue for a checkout lady who talked like a budgie and crept at the speed of a sloth!
At last. Four items bagged. A proverbial feast! Finish button pressed. Payment inserted.
Again I almost forget to look in the 'strange place' they dispense the notes from. I already lost a fiver that way. Is it a ploy (hmmm rubs chin?)
Schoolgirl looks at me producing an unnoticed creme egg (yes, it's October but this is a Halloween creme egg for unwary parent pester manipulation and max enumbers consumption). Sorry mum, says schoolgirl, but I cannot possibly leave this consumer hell without it!!!!
I groan. I prepare for doom. I beep it (it works this time) and pay the money.I then scuttle away tearing out the door and vowing to avoid self service forever after.
I'll go back and buy an ironing board. In the hope the bagging area won't recognise that and I can point and laugh. Then again, maybe I won't. They'll say I pressed the wrong button again.
Annoyed Shopper. Having A Rant.