I have decided I am no longer using a self-serve checkout unless the supermarket puts me on the payroll.
I arrive as a customer, but within seconds I’ve been promoted to cashier, bagging assistant, security officer and unpaid investigator of unexpected items in the bagging area.
There is no unexpected item. It’s a bloody avocado.
Then the machine freezes and flashes a light above my head, alerting the entire supermarket that I may be attempting to steal 37 cents worth of coriander. A teenager eventually wanders over, scans a magic card and releases me back into society.
Meanwhile, an employee watches twelve screens showing close-ups of everyone’s hands. Apparently, Woolworths now has better surveillance than the Pentagon, yet it still can’t tell the difference between a bread roll and organised crime.
And after I’ve scanned everything, found the barcode on the roast chicken, entered my own fruit, supplied my own bags and paid an amount roughly equal to a small mortgage repayment, the machine has the audacity to ask:
“Would you like a receipt?”
Yes. I’d also like a payslip, annual leave and recognition for prior learning.
If supermarkets want us to work there, fine. But I expect penalty rates on Sundays, ten percent off my groceries and a little name badge.
Carol — Employee of the Month. Or maybe the damned year!
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Thanks. Better check it out but it should be up today!