Just do as you're told
Waitrose, where I love to shop, has had a self-scan system for quite a while. You collect a handheld device when you go in, which makes beeping noises when you pick things from the shelves, and then somehow it works out how much you have to pay at the special till. I've never used it, I enjoy chatting with the checkout ladies and I'd hate to think I was doing them put of a job. We got our Christmas food from there, pork and sausage-meat for Little Petal, Craster Kipper and Sushi for me.
Tescos, where I hate to shop, has recently introduced a pair of checkout counters where you can scan the shopping through yourself. Little Petal loves it. I didn't want to use it when she first introduced me to it, because the queues at the normal checkouts weren't long enough to mean we'd be waiting for too long. But Little Petal had to use the new device. I watched as she tried waving the shopping in front of the scanner, and tried making helpful beeping noises, but it didn't work until I took the packet from her and held it upside down. I was pushed away and told to watch and not touch anything while she carried on.
I picked up a bag and began to put the shopping into it. The machine made a low-toned warning sound. Little Petal turned to me and hissed in her angry mummy voice "Don't touch anything until you're told to, is that too difficult for you to understand?"
A Tescos girl hurried over and Little Petal said "He touched the shopping." They exchanged a knowing look, she reset something, and Little Petal started all over again. She pointed to the instructions on the screen, which said that each item of shopping was to be scanned and placed on the out tray and then not touched until payment had been completed. It took us twice as long as the normal checkout counter would have taken. And it was all my fault.
And so it came to pass that, after Christmas, we returned even unto Tescos to get such things as we had run out of as bread, flour and cheese, and because we were now both penniless, Little Petal would use her Tescos voucher to pay for the bulk of the shopping. And, she was going to pay for it at this same self-service station.
"Do not muck about," I was told. "Just do exactly what you're told to do on the screen." In the mummy-will-be-angry voice, of course.
So I stood and watched as she put the flour through, then the cheese, and the salt, and then she went onto the payment page, and waved the voucher at it. There was a deep beep, and the page changed.
"Payment Voucher not accepted at this time" it read in large letters. "Please call for help."
"There isn't a help button," Little Petal said, puzzled. "What do we do now?"
And so I did exactly what it told me to on the screen. I opened my mouth and called at the top of my lungs "HELP!"
Everyone stopped and turned to look at us. I looked back, raised my arms, and said "Will nobody help the Widow's son?"
And somebody did. Joy of joys, Little Petal was politely shown where the screens told her to present the voucher. She had ignored what the machine was telling her to do.
There is a God. Or was it a late Christmas present?
Tescos, where I hate to shop, has recently introduced a pair of checkout counters where you can scan the shopping through yourself. Little Petal loves it. I didn't want to use it when she first introduced me to it, because the queues at the normal checkouts weren't long enough to mean we'd be waiting for too long. But Little Petal had to use the new device. I watched as she tried waving the shopping in front of the scanner, and tried making helpful beeping noises, but it didn't work until I took the packet from her and held it upside down. I was pushed away and told to watch and not touch anything while she carried on.
I picked up a bag and began to put the shopping into it. The machine made a low-toned warning sound. Little Petal turned to me and hissed in her angry mummy voice "Don't touch anything until you're told to, is that too difficult for you to understand?"
A Tescos girl hurried over and Little Petal said "He touched the shopping." They exchanged a knowing look, she reset something, and Little Petal started all over again. She pointed to the instructions on the screen, which said that each item of shopping was to be scanned and placed on the out tray and then not touched until payment had been completed. It took us twice as long as the normal checkout counter would have taken. And it was all my fault.
And so it came to pass that, after Christmas, we returned even unto Tescos to get such things as we had run out of as bread, flour and cheese, and because we were now both penniless, Little Petal would use her Tescos voucher to pay for the bulk of the shopping. And, she was going to pay for it at this same self-service station.
"Do not muck about," I was told. "Just do exactly what you're told to do on the screen." In the mummy-will-be-angry voice, of course.
So I stood and watched as she put the flour through, then the cheese, and the salt, and then she went onto the payment page, and waved the voucher at it. There was a deep beep, and the page changed.
"Payment Voucher not accepted at this time" it read in large letters. "Please call for help."
"There isn't a help button," Little Petal said, puzzled. "What do we do now?"
And so I did exactly what it told me to on the screen. I opened my mouth and called at the top of my lungs "HELP!"
Everyone stopped and turned to look at us. I looked back, raised my arms, and said "Will nobody help the Widow's son?"
And somebody did. Joy of joys, Little Petal was politely shown where the screens told her to present the voucher. She had ignored what the machine was telling her to do.
There is a God. Or was it a late Christmas present?
posted by Sopwith-Camel | 9:59 am
4 Comments:
They have a self-checkout at our local Sainsbury's. Tigger and I decided we ought to try it. So we did. We didn't get far before things went wrong. A helpful assistant bustled over and sorted us out. Thereafter we went through the normal (wo)manned check-out. Why have a dog and bark yourself?
I never found Sainsbury's as inspiring as Waitrose. We used to pop into the one at Frome a few times last year, in fact I think we did some of the Christmas shopping there. That's the countryside for you, You have to drive 20 miles to get to a Sainsbury's, or an Asda. We now have a Morrisons at Wincanton and at Warminster, so that's improved our options, but I still prefer Waitrose.
As to the other saying, yes, chasing burglars and postmen can be invigorating.
you have the same shopping mojo my husband does. if he's doing the paying any line he stands in will be staffed by someone with a fresh lobotomy scar, and any paypoint he uses will emit smoke and whimpering noises until someone impatient comes over and pushes a button for him. oh how we laugh.
ha ha.
I know it's just a coincidence, but as I read your comment, "Wichita Linesman was a song I once heard" had just begun, and Riccardo de Force was screaming in best preacher style about Mojo.
Note to self: Must stop noticing things like this.
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