The Self-Check Revolution

A recent shopping trip to Wal-Mart with my wife reminded us once again of how easily the superstore chain has taken control of our lives with near Pavlovian measures. Aisles that feature so-called “clearance” items are usually placed near more seasonal displays or near non-clearance merchandise which just so happens to be on sale. The stuff people most often need to replace in their homes, such as milk or bread, or even light bulbs, are hidden away in the nether regions of nearly an acre of shopping area. Of course, just going in for bread and milk usually results in a $90 total bill just because of all that stuff you find along the way during your quest for replenish-able perishables.

In paying that bill, we are confronted with the most insidious and sick-humored form of Wal-Mart’s fattened bottom line at the expense of its customers. The self-checkout lane is a craze that seemingly popped up over night and is not limited to just Wal-Mart. Competing retail chains have also installed their own versions of this new method of torture, in addition to grocery giants like Kroger. The idea is deceptively simple: customers can save time by running their own items across the scanner, navigating the price look-up computer for things like produce, pay the bill, bag the items and leave without ever having to speak with an employee. There are usually four of these lanes open at a given time, overseen by a single, harried, worker who spends his or her time trying to fix the various tantrums the machines have when customers don’t follow instructions to an exact degree.

I was witness to such a scene just last night, as I stood in line…in line!...to use the self-checker because I only had two items and I was in a hurry. A young mother was trying to finish her transaction even as her impatient daughter danced and played around her. The machine instructed her to remove the last item from the bag before continuing. The oversight employee later explained this was because of the scales the machines use to help determine whether the customer has bagged everything ran across the scanner. The mother removed the can of soup upon which she was told to put the item back in the bag. Her money in hand, ready to pay and leave, the mother complied even if a little confused. The computer requested removal of the last item bagged. This process occurred five times before the employee in charge finally hearkened to the torment inflicted on the mother by an obviously sadistic machine.

Meanwhile, as we watched this tableau of subservience to computers, other customers were having similar problems trying to merely give over their money so they could leave. Heaven forbid they become too confused by the myriad of buttons on the screen and push the wrong one too many times. The computer takes this as a cue to cross its arms and ignore you until the employee comes over to input some codes to make it all work again.

The most striking aspect of this, as I await my turn to be tormented, is that I am still paying full price for everything I am purchasing even as I am doing the job Wal-Mart normally pays a human to do. Other customers, weary from filling their carts with Wal-Mart’s goods, are able to stand back in rest for a few moments as a paid employee checks their items, resolves prices issues, completes the transaction, and bag their purchases. Yet, I am filling the role of not just a customer but a Wal-Mart employee all at once, with no compensation save for an illusion of convenience.

Thus began my silent revolt against these stores who profit by my unpaid labor. I do not go so far as a boycott since the self-checkout lanes are now everywhere and I frankly have to eat. Instead, I find other ways of equalizing the balance of power between the store and me. No longer do I leave my cart guiltily near my parking space even as the corral for them sits only a few feet away. I now leave my cart wherever I want with glee. If I bought something I know will not need to bring back for an exchange or refund, I open it at my car, leaving the superfluous packaging in the cart as well. Time to add a little oil to your vehicle? Do it right there and let Wal-Mart handle the empty cans.

This revolution doesn’t merely apply to after the sale or in the parking lot. While browsing through the aisles, I no longer feel compelled to return things to their proper place on the shelf. Sometimes I pick up things for this very purpose, only to put them down somewhere unrelated to their original stocking location. This is especially interesting where dairy products are concerned.

Critics, like my wife who rolled her eyes toward heaven when I told her of my fiendish plan, will point out that I am creating more work for already over-worked employees making minimum wage. To that I say exactly my point! The creation of more work means either more hours for the existing employees or the hiring of more. The price Wal-Mart pays for making me do an employees job is that I create more work for the existing staff.

Naturally, this could escalate out of control should too many people who never use the self-checkout lanes suddenly decided to trash the store. Thus, to satisfy the ethical question on my wife’s face, I amended my original plan to include terms for Wal-Mart’s surrender:

1.If I am to do the work of an employee in order to pay for my items then I expect an employee’s discount. In Wal-Mart’s case, that equates to 10%.

2.Improve the lay-out of these self-check areas. Stuffing the open space with last-minute candy offerings is not a good idea as I try to concentrate on what the computer is asking even as children are attacking these displays en force around me..

3.Stop the computer from sounding so condescending. I do not need to be reminded 3 times, accompanied by a loud beep, to take my change or receipt. I have functioned well enough in this retail world so far without being made to feel like a novice consumer.

4.Give the oversight employee more remote control over the machines so that going to fix a problem at one lane doesn’t distract from fixing the problem on mine.

5.Don’t tell me how to pay for something. I’ll insert coins anytime I feel like it, before, after, or in the middle of inserting paper currency.

This revolt can end peacefully, but it is up to Wal-Mart, and other stores like it, to make sure my peasant revolt doesn’t blossom into full-fledged warfare. It cannot be predicted what people with less ethically restraining wives will do when their fury at becoming a servant of machines explodes in righteous indignation.