Thoughts in The Self-service Checkout Line

Forgive me Grandmother, for I have sinned. I have used a self-service checkout. I have succumbed to the modern economy. I have failed. I did not go for customer service.

I told you, did I not, only mere years ago, that despite the Depression, despite the War, life was, in some ways, better? In the end, did you not agree?  Oh those were the days, as the saying goes.  Those days of your childhood, your early married life.  I remember your tales well. I remember  when your mother insisted that she needed those groceries that afternoon and insisted that you help her carry them across the bridge rather than wait for the delivery truck to arrive. You, who only had strength when it came to punching little boys, sat down in tears and refused to move. I remember how you used to phone up the department store and ‘bought’ a pair of gloves. They were delivered that day, wrapped in tissue and boxed. That is how you purchased things out in the country as a young housewife. If it wasn’t to your liking, they came out to collect the item.  All this at no extra charge. At the supermarket, stock-boys retrieved things off high shelves for you and your groceries were bagged and brought out to the car for you. Bank tellers fulfilled every little request, without a fuss. At airports, staff assisted you with your luggage. There was deference for the customer, especially women and the elderly. There was also respect for the most ordinary of occupations and workers. Therefore, did people take more pride and satisfaction in their jobs as they had some sense of worth in society?

You have only been gone a few years and life has changed since then. I am told life is better, but that is only when the ‘machine’ wishes to cooperate and with a distinct lack of human contact. I find that I must do more and more for myself. I spend my life dealing with inanimate objects. I know exactly what you would quite rightly  say  –  that it is all an excuse for companies to cut costs, give less value for money and raise profits at the expense of the ordinary person who loses what is a perfectly decent job.  It is for their convenience at the expense of ours, only we have been brainwashed into thinking otherwise. Yes, in theory I can arrange a flight or pay a bill at 3am, and any errors made are entirely my fault and my identity can be stolen in the process. All so some “fat cat” can become corpulently wealthy. Is this really progress you would wonder?

And here stand I, in a self-serve checkout, cursing the machine telling me to place my item in the bag, which I have already done. If only there was some customer service to go to. Big business will endeavour to leave us very few, if any, alternatives. For once there is a generation that has basically known only self-service there will be no turning back.