self check-out

Oh how the self check-out line befuddles me. I love it. Then I hate it. Am I the only one?

When the self check-out made its debut, I still had kids at home. The technology intimidated me at first, but surely if I had a young teenager with me, all would go well.

So. In Meijer, I forged into their self check-out. Questions, questions. English or Spanish? Cash or credit? Gracious, the kids bombard me with questions all day. I don't need more. Then came, "do you have any coupons?"

"No," I answered dutifully.
"Mom, the machine can't hear you!" my mortified son admonished.

Oh. Of course not. I knew that.

Then today. In Kroger. Only one regular lane was open, with a long line of customers bearing bulging carts.

Ah ha! Self-check-out. I scurry over and make eye contact with the self check-out employee because I know absolutely, without a doubt, that I'll need her. So why is it called self check-out? I ask you.

I smile, nod, and say, "I know I'm going to need you!"

I'm beginning to perceive that gray hair has its perks ... I think gray hair alerts store employees: ALERT! OLD, HELPLESS PERSON! COME TO HER RESCUE! Ha, ha. I love it. Because they always come to my rescue in the self check-out.

But I do try to follow the program.

"Look up item and click done." Click.
"Click number of items." Three. Avocados. Click.
"REMOVE ITEM FROM BAGGING AREA AND PLACE ON SCANNER!" The screen screams at me.

ACK! Would someone please tell me why the avocados must be weighed if I'm buying them by NUMBER, not WEIGHT??

I think I should stick to the regular, old-fashioned check-out lane that's worked just fine ever since grocery stores began.