I’m all for self check-outs. They serve a purpose. Suppose you only have a few items, are in a bit of a rush, and have an IQ over 50. The self check-out is definitely the way to go. Hey, I’m not a complete bitch. If you meet two of the three above criteria, go ahead and scan your own stuff, why not? It is like being in a free cashier fantasy camp.

Allow me to paint a picture of terror. I stopped by Meijer today for one specific thing. Apparently they are the only store that carries a specific brand of pretzel that my good friend enjoys. I happened to be in the vicinity of a Meijer and thought I would be a good friend to my good friend and pick some up for her. Little did I know that my small act of kindness would result in me wanting to strangle an elderly woman.

I find the pretzels and proceed to the check-out. It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, so there was a clear lack of short lines. Since I was going to pay cash anyway, I head over to the self check-out. There are four stations, but only two working. The signs say “12 items or fewer” (thank you, Meijer, for not using “or less”) so I mistakenly make the assumption that I am only a few minutes from continuing my errands. In line ahead of me is a woman who is old enough to have been a babysitter to Larry King. From a few feet behind her, I can count at least 20 items in her cart. Yes, her cart. A cart in the self check-out line. I should have known then that I was in for an annoyance.

So she ambles up to the station, relying heavily on the cart to support her dusty bones. Now, in all fairness, the volume on the station was up pretty high. That being said, she was startled every single time she scanned something. Nevermind that it took her at least 10 seconds to find the bar code on all 32 of her items. Nevermind that she had to look at the cashier at the podium after each of her 32 items as if she was looking for positive reinforcement for a job well done. Nevermind that she groaned every time she bent into the cart to get another of her 32 items. What annoyed me the most was how she jumped when the check-out made noise… every noise.

Then this chick has the nerve to try and write a check. Who writes a check at the self check-out? I mean really. Who does that? Old ass bitch who can’t read or count does. Apparently my growing irritation was written on my face because I was barely finished blurting out “oh come on!” when the cashier was leaving the podium to assist old ass bitch who can’t read or count. On her way to assist, the cashier opened another one of the stations so I could handle my business.

I scan my two items, pay cash, and head for the door. Old ass bitch who can’t read or count was still working on her check. I snuck a look over my shoulder as I went and there were easily twenty people in line. I like to think that those twenty people saw me as a hero for speaking out.