Neff Zone Column -- November 17, 2007

Print Edition: November 17, 2007

SELF-CHECKOUT IS NOT FOR ME

I loathe self-checkout machines. I’ve stated this several times in this column and it’s an opinion that’s totally mine and does not reflect the views of this newspaper, its employees, or most of the rest of the civilized world. This is my own, private flight into the cuckoo’s nest. I’m no technophobe. I love a good gizmo, I can repair computers, and I can even set the time on a VCR/DVD player. Still, I absolutely detest self-checkouts and every confrontation I have with the infernal contraptions does nothing but drive me deeper into despair.

A case in point is a tussle I had on a recent shopping foray. After collecting a couple dozen items in my shopping cart, I proceeded to the front of the store only to find no human-checkout lanes operational, only self-checkout lanes. So, grumbling all the way and against my better judgment, I entered the land where previously happy shoppers go to die.

Right off the bat I knew there was going to be trouble. As I unloaded my cart a voice came from behind, "Choose a language, choose a language, choose a language."

"OK," I said, "Hungarian, Swahili, Upper Slabovian," but none of those seemed to silence the request. Finally I turned and saw that I only had two choices, English and Spanish. Hmmmm, let me see. Since I live in the US of A in a location almost to the Canadian border, "I think English is an obvious choice, you supercilious sack of silicon," I barked at the mechanized moron.

Next, I scanned my first item, which immediately registered as three items. So, trying to be as calm and collected as possible, even though my bald head was beginning to take on the hue of a ripe tomato, I looked up and made a small wave in an attempt to summon human help from the nearest store employee. No luck, because the prison guard assigned to guard the inmates incarcerated in self-checkout was ministering to another sorrowful soul.

I then began waving my arms above my head in an attempt to get any other store employee on the loose to come to my assistance. That didn’t work because apparently the rest of the employees thought I was either signaling for a touchdown or giving landing instructions to an incoming jumbo jet, neither of which was the responsibility of their department. Finally, a nice lady did come to my rescue, sort of. She erased two of the three scans, using a special secret code also used for launching missile attacks on Al-Qeada.

Whew! Now I scanned to next item, which naturally didn’t work. I was then instructed to enter the UPC code by hand. Getting out my reading glasses I determined that the people who put UPC codes on products are the same folks who engrave "War and Peace" on the heads of pins. Nothing like trying to find a 27-digit code written in microbe-sized print on a shiny label and then typing it (one digit at a time) onto a touch pad smeared with something that looks like lumpy petroleum jelly (but probably isn’t).

That entered, it was time for item three. You guessed it. It would not scan either. At that point I gave up, finalized my purchases (both of them), and paid my tab.

I never bought the other items because there was no way I was going to stand there and enter their UPC numbers one by one. If I wanted to work at the store as a checkout person I’d apply for a job. If the store wants me to do their work, they need to hire me and pay me a wage.

This whole experience just solidifies my position that self-checkouts violate the first rule of any business: Make it easy for people to give you their money. Instead of taking that rule to heart, I’m positive that stores with self-checkouts subscribe to the theory of the not-often-quoted and semi-competent fictional psychologist Dr. Ben E. Swindle: "We’re not happy until you’re not happy."

More from the Zone…The national debt is now an almost uncountable $9 trillion, that’s a 9 with 12 zeros. Even if you wanted to count that high, you would not live long enough to do it. If you counted a dollar a second it would take more than 31,000 years to count to one trillion…Another instance where counting might come in handy is at NBA basketball games because according to the NBA Fan Cost Index it will cost the average family of four $282 to attend a Detroit Pistons game this season…If you’re having trouble keeping track of all the recalled products Consumers Union has a new one-stop website for recall information, www.notinmycart.org …Michigan with a population of about 10 million has 23% more legislators than California with a population of 36 million…In the era of No Child Left Behind many schools have cut back on music education, which makes no sense in light of a Harris poll which shows that 88% of adults with post graduate degrees and 83% with incomes above $150,000 have had music education…Best quote of the week about Hillary Clinton: "Anyone in politics who waffles should expect to take some heat. Hillary Clinton can’t have it both ways. Since she bragged that she is will prepared for the all-boys club of presidential politics, she can’t also cling to the stereotype that a woman has the right to change her mind." – Chicago Tribune…Best quote of the week about Rudy Giuliani: "Back in ’01 when mayor Rudy Giuliani was busy committing adultery, lurching into his divorce and third marriage and rooming with a gay couple he promised to marry as soon as the law allowed, who among us would have imagined that one day he would be endorsed for president by Pat Robertson?" – New York Times.

Jim Neff is a local columnist. Comments to neffzone@gmail.com. Read Neff Zone columns online at www.neffzone.com/cadillacnews.