Adventures in Self-Checkout vol. 2

There are currently 4 self checkout terminals in our store. They have a lovely (that's sarcasm) computer animated video that briefly and non-verbally explains the process. That means, they feature moving pictures to demonstrate how to use one.

One of these monstrosities has a habit of not working. In the almost 3 years we've had the beast, it's been "down" and "not working right" for most of that time. If we get one full week of the thing working, we're all impressed, and whispering when near it, for fear of jinxing it. Mostly because, when jinxed, the thing drops pieces of itself off. Like the pinpad/signature screen. Yes, I mean that when it decides to show its displeasure with being in our little sink-hole of a city, it rejects its own parts.

Now, I realize that the Amish (you know, the people in the funky clothes from the Harrison Ford "classic" Witness) don't have much experience with computers, or televisions. Nothing was quite as surreal as seeing a youngish Amish couple standing at the SCO, waving merchandise in front of the video screen on the one that keeps breaking down. Now, I'm sure some of the bleeting hearts will say I'm being "rough" or "rude" about the Amish. But I'm not. You see, there were three other units with moving pictures, lights, and, dare I say it? No bags over every parts upon which a bag could be secured. These people looked at FOUR freaking TV screens, and chose the one that was DARK, COVERED OVER, and not responsive.

Let me just say it: Okay, you Amish twit, you choose to not have or use technology, so, GO WITH THAT. Just Say No and keep moving to a regular register.

Now, along with the Amish, I have to say that the English, or at least those with what sound like an English Accent, shouldn't be allowed near the self-checkouts either. I don't know, and don't care to find out, if all English people are this stupid, or if it's just the ones I meet at the SCO. I'm guessing it's more like "most" because it's rare to find "all" of anything about any one group of people.

Siderant: why don't the English understand English? The Self Checkout speaks English better than many of the customers I see in a day. Hell, the machine has better language skills than the VP of the PTA at my daughter's school. Why is that?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Spin and Marty are asked (in a snippy English accent) "Excuse me, but what does it mean by a pinpad? There's no pin."

Ahhh. Having to smile and politely say, "Oh, that's this. (touching the pinpad lightly)" and wait for the obligatory "Wha?" just fantastically made my day. I especially enjoyed how the pissy English wench tried to tell me it was my fault she didn't know what it meant.

Just say it: Okay, English Wench, if you don't like how we do things in America, and if it's too much for us to ask that you adjust yourself to being here, JUST GO HOME. Ta ta.

Ahhh, I'm feeling better now already.