Why self-checkout lanes need atomic laser cannons

The BBQ Pit
1

Or self-targeting nuclear torpedos mounted on the adjacent gum racks. Either one is fine with me.

See, the problem is, people tend to forget why self-checkout lanes were invented. The really ignorant folks think it was a magnanimous gesture on the part of the retail operation to help all their customers pay for their selections faster. Those who are just ignorant (no “really” designation) think it’s to cut expenses on the part of the retailers, so they don’t have to pay as many cashiers. Neither of these reasons is correct.

The REAL reason – in fact, the ONLY reason – self-checkout lanes were invented was to make it easier for you and me to pay for a few items and leave the store happy. That’s it. No other reason than that. And frankly, I’ve seen waaaay too many people in these self-checkout lanes lately that I know aren’t me, and I seriously doubt they’re you. These people are mucking this up for the both of us. I’ve waited for you to do something, to let these people know they’re not supposed to be there, but if you’re not gonna step up to the plate, I guess I’ll have to. Call me a handsome, chiseled firebrand with arresting brown eyes if you must, but I’ll not let our rights get trampled this way. I’ll complain about these injustices on the Internet, where there’s absolutely no hope of resolution. No need to thank me.

Situation 1: I’m in Wal-Mart with three of the Minions of Sauron. We’ve run by there on a Sunday afternoon to get a double boiler for the lovely and talented Aries28, to aid her in her holiday goody-making. (The fact that I mistakenly purchased a pasta steamer instead of a double boiler has no bearing on this story, and I’ll thank you not to mention that little episode again. The term “moron” was bandied about incessantly, along with a great deal of finger-pointing. It was not one of my finer moments.)

Anyway, Wal-Mart is packed with the hoi polloi this particular Sunday afternoon. I’m not terribly concerned, because I know that this Wal-Mart has created several of the self-checkout lanes in case you or I stop by to shop. I didn’t see you in the store, so I figured I could breeze right through the self-checkout lane.

Well. I get to the lane, and it is absolutely STUFFED FULL of people. I thought maybe you had allowed some of your friends to use your self-checkout privelege (which, technically, is against the rules, but you and I are so close, I’m not gonna complain about that; any friend of yours, and so on), so I didn’t complain. I did lean close to a couple of people while standing in line and ask “Are you a friend?” in a low voice. You know, just to make sure they were using your privelege. They didn’t seem to react well to that, though. You might want to check to see if you’ve given your self-checkout privelege away to unauthorized people.

I thought about making a scene, but decided against it. I resigned myself to wait in this long self-checkout line. The three Minions of Sauron amused themselves by finding small pieces of candy on the floor underneath the display rack and eating it.

So the line moves slowly, but at least it’s moving. There are a couple of ladies ahead of me in line who are laughing and giggling and just enjoying life in general. This was refreshing and uplifting for about 13 seconds, and then it became annoying to the point of madness. But I tried to tune them out. A Wal-Mart employee (and take note; this is important to the story) came by a couple of times while we were waiting in line and asked the ladies if they’d like to pay at a regular register, and both times they said no, they were fine where they were.

Finally they get to the scanner, and they scan a couple of items. The total bill is something like ten bucks. No biggie.

But then, I swear by all that is sweet and crispy, they take out a change purse the size of a full-grown zucchini and start feeding QUARTERS into the coin slot. Still giggling. Still laughing.

I’m in shock. These ladies apparently planned to pay for their purchase with change. They knew this in advance. So why waste time at the self-checkout line plugging quarters into the slot? Why not go to a regular register and pay – ESPECIALLY when the helpful Wal-Mart employee asked them TWICE if they wanted to do so?

And THEN – THEN they ran out of quarters. They had around six bucks paid into the register. Guess what they did then? That’s right – they started plugging in NICKELS.

It took them eight minutes to pay for their purchases. I have never seen a more blatant disregard for the time of others in my entire life. I was just glad you weren’t there; I know how bad your temper is.

Situation 2: I stop by Wal-Mart (a different Wal-Mart, but this one, too, has thoughtfully provided self-checkout lanes for you and me) on my lunch break to buy a can of Fix-a-Flat because, once again, my special nail-seeking tires have done their work well. So I’m standing in the self-checkout line again, with only one lady ahead of me. Again, she wasn’t you, but she was in the process of checking out, so I didn’t force her to leave our line. She’s got a shopping cart full of stuff, but she seems familiar with the scanner and how it works (unlike a MASSIVE amount of people), so I don’t worry too much.

Until I realize she’s carefully sorting stuff from her cart on the little motorized belt. She’s not using the standard “pile everything on the belt and run it through the scanner” method you and I patented; no, she’s picking and choosing what item goes in which bag when she scans it. The little pack of hair clips? That has to go in the bag with the Barbie doll. The package of nails? That has to go in the bag with the hammer. Now, let’s see, where DID I put that bag with the hammer? Let me rummage around in these 14 bags I’ve got piled on the floor here to see if I can find it. Ah, here it is! The Barbie equestrienne outfit? Well, obviously that has to go in the Barbie bag. I had it right here a minute ago, but I must have moved it while I was looking for the bag with the hammer. Now, let’s see, where did I put it?

On and on, item after item, bag after bag, until she had carefully scanned, sorted, paid for and bagged $318 worth of stuff. Thank God she wasn’t paying with change.

So I hope you agree that self-checkout lanes need atomic laser cannons, or possibly self-targeting nuclear torpedos mounted nearby. That way, we can deter these weirdos from using our privelege. You and I are the only ones who should be in those lanes.

Although if you keep giving away your privilege to people like that, I may have to turn the torpedos on you.

2

Torpedoes? Bah. You’ll never get them done.

Truth is, I’m sick of having to share the self-checkout lines with you, so I’ve been searching dark alleys and sinister gin-joints and John Tesh shows for the most irritating people I can find and giving them my privileges, with the condition they only use them when I’m not around. I figure you’ll eventually give up on the lanes, leaving them all for me. Ahahahahahahaha!

I do think the stores ought to institute a fine system. If you make more than one error while using the system, or if you spend more than fifteen seconds between each function (scanning an item, putting it in the bag, choosing method of payment, etc.), the system adds a dollar per offense onto your bill. This fee is deducted from the bill of the person in line behind you.

Daniel

3

This is just going to blow your mind then: at my local Stop N Shop, they have 3 self checkout lanes, one of which is marked “Express, 13 items or less”.

I can’t say for sure why self checkout lanes really exist. I see no benefit to them at all, over human cashiers.

4

Because I can usually scan and bag my own groceries a lot faster than the stoned high schooler or gossipy grandma working the register, c_goat.

5

Putting coins in coin slots is fun! That is why people play slots or put coins in stamp machines at stores; it certainly can’t be that they expect anything else in return. KellyM recently tricked me into not putting a coin in the parking meter so she could do so! I was mifed but did my best not to pout. I love the little rachetting sound when you turn the handle. Before I had kids, I would buy gumballs for strangers’s children for the thrill of putting coins in slots and turning the handle. Those self checkout lanes would be much better if you had to turn the crank after each coin.
Happy Holidays!

6

I just generally use them because most people around here are too scared, lazy, stupid, whatever to use them, and there’s 4 of them, so there’s almost always at least one station free.

I’ll grant you I’m generally slower than the cashier, since she gets more practice than I do, but I tend to feel at least I’m doing something proactive about getting myself the hell out of the store, instead of standing in line fuming at whatever idiot in front of me is trying to conduct a major corporate merger with only a heavily-loaded coin purse, an out-of-state check that doesn’t have a name and address printed on it, and no driver’s license.

7

Your Wal-Mart has self-checkout lanes that are operational? Wow, consider yourself lucky! The new Wal-Mart in my neighborhood has eight self-checkout lanes. At any given time, six of those are not working. And at the two that are functioning, one is being used by someone with a cartload of purchases and not a clue as to how to use the machine. The person at the other one just scanned something that must not be in the database of 17 trillion items that Wal-Mart carries because the red light is blinking, summoning the Wal-Mart brain-trust who can’t figure out what to do to fix the problem and apparently must wait for help to arrive from Fayetteville before they can proceed.

I’ve found it’s easier and quicker to just stand in line with rest of the, as you say, hoi polloi.

8

This is only a factor if there’s two lanes with no line, one a self checkout, the other a human. In that case, sure, the self checkout is the better bet if you are confident you can do it faster yourself.

However, if there’s a line of 3 people at the self checkout, and a line of 3 at the human run express lane, I’ll take the express lane every time.

I trust the cashier to be competent more than I’d trust 3 random shoppers. At least I know the cashier has been somewhat trained in the system.

9

I don’t believe that for a second. The local Albertsons put 4 of those things in (along with machines to tag produce in the produce section); since then, I’ve never seen more then one human check-out person on duty. For an entire large grocery store. The vast majority if people use the machines, largely because they don’t have a choice.

10

I’ve seen my share of incompetent self-scanners, but on the whole I find them handy. Whatever reduces my interaction with employees is OK in my book.

11

For some reason, there always seems to be in front of me a person who ends up needing help at the self check out lane. So, a store employee comes over and helps.

The only times I don’t see this happening is when I grocery shop at 2:00am on a Tuesday (which is my wont).

So… how is that actually helping things? Now, instead of having this wonderful employee at another check stand, we have our quick check out for people of even slightly below normal intelligence being held up AND removing another store employee from the throngs of nice, normal, semi with it, check card using people about to leave the fucking store.

AND… we cannot forget how difficult the store makes it to scan produce with it. Yeah, if you have any fresh fruit or veggies in your hand basket, you will get out quicker by going through the longer manned check out lane. Really, how many people know how to look up produce in the book? Even if you do, it takes a while to find the specific item. (I know, because I have done it in the almost empty at 2:00am store. Even with no one at all in line behind me, I was frustrated at this occurance. Live and learn.)

12

The Albertson’s I shop at has an employee dedicated to the self-checkout kiosks. Stands at a little podium overlooking them…

There’s a 4-digit number by the price displays on all produce. You grab what you want, drop it on a special scale, type in the number, and the scale prints a bar code sticker that you put on the produce.

(I miss human checkout people. :()

13

Thank God I no longer work in Niles or I might’ve gone to jail for wiping that chipper, “Happy Holidays!” smile off you face after you fed ten bucks in small change into the self-checkout at the Jewel on Touhy! :wink:

There was a woman in front of me last night whom I assumed, for the sake of my patience, is in the initial stages of Alzheimer’s. She dawdled for a couple minutes after getting her change doing goodness knows what while I gently nudged her along with my shopping cart. She didn’t leave until I was about to get my receipt.

14

Good rant, Sauron, except for one thing:

Why on Gandolfs Gilded Goatee are you shopping at Walmart within 3 months (either side) of Christmas? Or Labor Day? Or the Fourth of July? Or Memorial Day? Or Martin Luther King Day? :smiley:

15

Not at any stores around here. None that I’ve been to, anyways. Just a little plastic book at the stand. Has all the produce mamed (no pics for us numnuts even) and all the sub categories, and then the code listed, all in relatively small type with funky lighting on the glossy plastic pages.

I yearn for the system you described.

16

As someone said above, cashiers tend to fall primarily into one of two categories, stoned “couldn’t care less” teenagers, and gossipy grandmas. Both types of cashiers are slower than molasses in January.

And if you have to contend with 3 fellow shoppers ahead of you in each line, whether self service, or regular cashier, like a lot of people here, I’ve consistantly found the self service to be faster.

And as someone else said, at the very LEAST, I’m taking control of the situation, not waiting on granny to finish up her FASCINATING tale of the knitting circle’s adventures with the customer ahead of me, or waiting for Prissy McPrincess to come out of her qualuude coma and notice I’m trying to ask her a question.

Even if the customers ahead of me in the self service line are a bit clueless, I am fast at the self service and can make up the time. If a person uses the cashier and is held up by customers ahead of him or her, then they STILL have to contend with the slowness of the clerk. Not so if you do it yourself.

17

If it takes me 3 minutes to use the self checkout, how come I don’t get the 1/20th of a teller’s hourly wage for my trouble? Aren’t I doing their job for free?

18

Huh… Weird, we have the little sign with all the pics and numbers of items that don’t already have a sticker on them, you type in the number, put the item on the scale, and it adds the price of the item to your list (no bar code prints out). And that’s just for the fruit or veggie that doesn’t already have a sticker on it with the 4 digit code, like most fruit.

I’m pretty sure that these codes are nationwide. A 4066 (roma apple, or perhaps nectarine IIRC) is the same in Alaska as it is in Texas. And in the stores in which I shop, I’ve found that holding up codeless fruit and asking the 4 lane overlooker type employee “Hey, what’s the code for this one” works wonders, most of them have most codeless (and not on the color sign) fruits and veggies memorized.

“Oh, a rutabega?, that’s 9999” or some such. Dang, where do you live that they’re so far behind?

19

I like to use the self-checkout because then I don’t have to interact with another human being as I buy my frozen diners and cat food.

20

I always claimed I would never use them until the store started giving me a discount for doing the cashier’s job. They fixed that, though, by closing down all the express lanes.

CanvasShoes, we don’t have those printer things in Denver either, at least not in King Soopers or Safeway. I saw one in a Dorothy Lane in Dayton, Ohio, and I agree, that’s a good system.