The line forms here....or there.
Do you remember when Costco used to have item callers? You know, the folks that remembered every item in the store and just went through the mega Costco baskets calling out the number so the cashier could put a price on it? Did their mouths and their fingers fly? Yes, they did.
Then one day...it all stopped. Where were the callers? They disappeared. Hmm, I'm not sure I trust one person doing a two-person job, much less trust the scanner in the cashier's hand. How will I know if it doesn't read properly?
Everything is scanned. Every item at every store. Even on my real estate signs I have a Quick Response Code so a smart phone can take a picture of it and go directly to home...my real estate blog.
I had a 'moment', last week at the Nob Hill Foods store. Ut-oh. The checkout lines seem kind of long. I think I'll do the self-checkout. I've done it lots of times. Ah-ha! A machine is open.
Thinking I was doing some good (as in not using plastic bags), I didn't put any of my unique selections in separate bags inside my canvas bag. Like purple potatoes...and yellow potatoes...and red potatoes...and bananas....and two onions...and three avocados...and two ears of corn. (No, I'm not a vegetarian.)
I had to wrestle and dig deep, very deep into my canvas bag to find the items that were the same because they were priced, I supposed, by their color and shape. It would be an excellent children's matching game.
And I got nervous about it. And the bag fell over. And the stuff fell out. And a lot of it rolled around the floor. And all I wanted to do was run away from the grocery lady monitoring her charges at their checkout stations.
Then, in a flashback, I remembered the name we gave to the lady who watched and gave change for the vending machines in high school. We called her Mrs. Lady. I think she was actually named that in the yearbook.
Well, let me tell you if I wasn't laughing so hard I would have been crying. There was a point that I turned to the crowd behind me and said...'sorry!' They were definitely not laughing.
So I decided to make light of it with Ms. Nob Hill. Nothing could phase her. She had seen it all. At one point there were a couple of us and as we both turned to her saying "Mr. Machine didn't give us the right price!" She addressed us both. "Put it in the bagging area! Really! Put it in the bagging area." Ah, yes. When we did that the price got right...just like the game show.
Next time I expect I will think twice about how quick the do-it-yourself-line is, especially if there's someone like me.
Now I'm going to wash my car, myself. I at least have that down pat.
Live richly, marilyn
Then one day...it all stopped. Where were the callers? They disappeared. Hmm, I'm not sure I trust one person doing a two-person job, much less trust the scanner in the cashier's hand. How will I know if it doesn't read properly?
Everything is scanned. Every item at every store. Even on my real estate signs I have a Quick Response Code so a smart phone can take a picture of it and go directly to home...my real estate blog.
I had a 'moment', last week at the Nob Hill Foods store. Ut-oh. The checkout lines seem kind of long. I think I'll do the self-checkout. I've done it lots of times. Ah-ha! A machine is open.
Thinking I was doing some good (as in not using plastic bags), I didn't put any of my unique selections in separate bags inside my canvas bag. Like purple potatoes...and yellow potatoes...and red potatoes...and bananas....and two onions...and three avocados...and two ears of corn. (No, I'm not a vegetarian.)
I had to wrestle and dig deep, very deep into my canvas bag to find the items that were the same because they were priced, I supposed, by their color and shape. It would be an excellent children's matching game.
And I got nervous about it. And the bag fell over. And the stuff fell out. And a lot of it rolled around the floor. And all I wanted to do was run away from the grocery lady monitoring her charges at their checkout stations.
Then, in a flashback, I remembered the name we gave to the lady who watched and gave change for the vending machines in high school. We called her Mrs. Lady. I think she was actually named that in the yearbook.
Well, let me tell you if I wasn't laughing so hard I would have been crying. There was a point that I turned to the crowd behind me and said...'sorry!' They were definitely not laughing.
So I decided to make light of it with Ms. Nob Hill. Nothing could phase her. She had seen it all. At one point there were a couple of us and as we both turned to her saying "Mr. Machine didn't give us the right price!" She addressed us both. "Put it in the bagging area! Really! Put it in the bagging area." Ah, yes. When we did that the price got right...just like the game show.
Next time I expect I will think twice about how quick the do-it-yourself-line is, especially if there's someone like me.
Now I'm going to wash my car, myself. I at least have that down pat.
Live richly, marilyn
Comments
Post a Comment