To the crazy bitch behind me in line at the self-checkout: You know who you are. You were standing so close to me I feel like we’re dating now. Seriously, you were all up in my bubble, man. Don’t act like you don’t know what you did, who raised you?
Oh, and I guess your mom must be coming over for dinner – I noticed you got that wheat-grass-gluten-free-organic-locally-sourced bullshit pasta she likes.
My parents were right. I never should have married you.
But seriously, it’s obviously time for some new Commandments up in here. I mean, no offense to Ol’ Mo’, but the Patriarch just never had to deal with shit like this, so I present to you:
THE COMMANDMENTS OF SELF-CHECKOUT
1. THOU SHALT NOT STAND TOO CLOSE TO OTHER PATRONS
Really, I think that woman got me pregnant, that’s how close she was. We’re all grown folk, we all know the rules about personal space – every culture has its own, you know yours, FUCKING OBEY THAT SHIT.
And recent immigrants? You get 6 months to learn the rules in your new country. After that, you’re just being a dick like everyone else.
And to top it all off, Standy McTooClose starts scanning her shit before I had even picked up my shit! Which brings us to…
2. THOU SHALT WAIT THY GODDAMN TURN, THOU HEATHEN
Yes, I know self-checkout is intended for the speediness, but jeez Louise. I shouldn’t be ripping off my receipt in mortal terror as you start slinging soy milk in my general direction. Let me clear the bagging area, for fuck’s sake! It’s like the water slide – I have to get out of the pool before they can let anyone else come down. Otherwise, someone’s gonna get hurt. AND IT AIN’T GONNA BE ME.
And while we’re on the subject…
3. THOU SHALT NOT BRING FULL CARTS THROUGH THE SELF-CHECKOUT
I’d say, 15 things. 15 things is how many you can reasonably have. Maybe 20 if you have someone with you who can bag while you scan, but you’re fucking pushing it, Janine. 15 THINGS IS PLENTY.
Oh, and every 5 coupons takes 1 thing off your allowance. Because you know why?
4. THOU SHALT NOT HOLD UP THE LINE
Speediness, remember? I’m not talking about someone’s ol’ Pop-Pop who’s baffled by the newfangled machinery – although I do think that’s what regular checkout clerks are for, but then, how would he learn? But when you think you’re gonna roll your ass up to the self-checkout with an entire Amazon Rainforest-worth of coupons, um, 2 things: 1) You have clearly exceeded your 15-thing allowance; 2) I WILL END YOU.
C’mon, man, you KNOW at least one of those motherfuckers is gonna jam up the slot and then the girl is gonna have to come over here. NO ONE WANTS THE GIRL TO COME OVER HERE.
This is also why…
5. PRODUCE IS FOR ADVANCED CUSTOMERS ONLY
Anything you have to weigh and/or look up is GOING TO SLOW DOWN THE LINE. That happens even when the actual checkout clerk does it, it’s adding an extra step to the process so it naturally takes longer. So, if you’re at all overwhelmed by the Brave New World of Self-Checkoutery, play it safe and take that shit to a human clerk.
And if you DO deem yourself ready to look up your own veggies, be advised. You get TWO. That basket full of 10 different things for your famous Arugula and Assholes Lima Bean Salad? NO. You put that nonsense back and you buy salad in a bag like decent people.