Simple human contact is still the best

WHEN self-service checkouts first appeared, I thought I’d be a fan.

Ooh, I said. The modern world. This is the way forward!

I’ll be in control. Confidently scanning my items quickly, bagging them up and then striding on my way to enjoy the more fun things in life.

Oops, not before paying, of course. Don’t want you thinking bad thoughts about me. How wrong I was. I soon realised that two words would come to haunt me. Bagging area. Just typing them out makes me shudder. Because so many times that bossy robotvoiced woman has shouted at me: Unexpected Item In The Bagging Area.

What unexpected item would that be, then? A hair? A bit of fluff, invisible to the naked eye?

Alternatively, horrible robot-voice lady would be demanding that I must Place The Item In The Bagging Area.

It’s already in the bagging area. You know it is – stop doing this to me!

Those very words take me back to one of my most embarrassing memories.

I was in Asda after visiting my mum and dad. My kids were toddler-ish age. They were young, boisterous and wanted to “help” me with the fun new checkout.

It was 8pm. It had been a long, frazzling day. I just wanted to get home. So each time I was ordered to Place The Item In The Bagging Area and one of my little darlings didn’t do it quite right, my voice rose just that little bit higher.

Until I eventually shouted in a shrill, loud voice that brought the whole of Asda to a halt: “PUT IT IN THE FLIPPING BAGGING AREA!”

And then I looked up. By this time I was red-faced, wild-eyed and generally stressed out and my kids carried on regardless. Yes, I was one of those mums. And then I spotted a man I’d been at school with, Andy, staring at me in horror. It was the first time we’d seen each other in 25 years.

When I was 14, I’d had a secret crush on him. Just as well I was over it.

It wasn’t my fault, Andy. I’m not always like that. It was those darned checkouts.

I soon realised the joy of having a real person serve you is irreplaceable. They know what they’re doing. They know where to find the bar codes, how to make their tills work when they go a bit wrong. We don’t. And what about the simple, human contact that can brighten a dull day?

A chat about the weather or the state of the nation with the man in the queue behind you.

A wee nosy in someone’s basket. Oh, look, they’re having reduced-priced sausages for tea tonight. Wish I’d seen them.

Are we all so busy and leading such massively interesting lives that we can’t wait a couple of minutes to be served properly?

If your answer is yes, then think on this. According to one of the brains behind the survey out last week, it is actually quicker to be served by a real, live person.

You see? Sometimes the traditional ways are best.