Unidentified Object in Bagging Area

„Unidentified Object in Bagging Area“. The words ring out. Perhaps aliens have landed. It could be the U.S. Secret Service. The unearthly voice rings out again „Unidentified Object in Bagging Area“.

Those of you familiar with the workings of Self Scanning in Supermarkets (or “SS in S” for short) will realise that I am not referring to a new cost saving device from the National Health Service, but the challenges that the poor shopper faces in the modern English supermarket.

Don’t get me wrong. I may be in a minority of one here, but I am a great fan of English supermarkets. I think that they get a bad press. Without wishing to appear to be on the payroll of the PR department of Tesco or Sainsbury, Swiss supermarkets have a lot to learn from these guys on how to operate a check-out.

Now checkouts are a kind of “make or break” experience, when it comes to shopping. After 45 minutes of stomping around warehouses the size of several football pitches, including having to return to the other end of the supermarket to fetch a single forgotten item, you then have to “Face the Queue”. (It is only a question of time before shoppers bring their own rollers blades. There is definitely a market opening for renting them out just outside the entrance.)

(By the way, “Face the Queue” has yet to be made into a TV reality show. It has a lot going for it as a TV concept and I am thinking about selling the idea to Simon Cowell.)

The idea (or “concept”, as we posh business people say) of Self Scan checkouts is a very modern, positive (and trusting) step and therefore one that I had vigorously resisted….that is until Friday 25^th May. I am not sure that anything else of note took place on this day, but I took the bold step (unreported on the “News at Ten”) of pressing the “Start” button at the Unthank Road branch of Tesco Express and off we go. “Yes”, we had our own bags, and were ready to scan in our loaf of Wholemeal bread, fat free milk (for us) and maximum-fat milk for Grandson, Bradley.

I like this scanning-in lark. There is something satisfying or annoying (depending on your point of view) about the bleep that is given off. Even when I am at an ordinary checkout, I always experience a small thrill from leaning over the side and scanning my Tesco Clubcard. It is pathetic really what gives people pleasure, but it is cheaper than playing computer games, and more rewarding than watching the England football team playing friendly internationals.

So back to my first experience at the personal “bleep bleeping” machine. First item was successfully scanned. No sooner was I about to scan my second item than the warning of aliens echoed through the store. „Unidentified Object in Bagging Area“.Oh no. What have we done wrong?

There was nothing to do except wait for the poor assistant, who had plenty of other and better things to do, and who had to come over and give it the all clear, just as he does 10,000 times a day……and I moved successfully onwards to complete the whole shebang.

Nothing for it, but to repeat the experience the next day. This time, I didn’t even get to the first item. “DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN BAG?” “Yes”, I replied (in a technology sort of way), but I was lying. I did not have a bag at all. I was only buying a copy of the Daily Mail (What!! Is Grumpy really a secret Daily Mail reader?) and didn’t need a bag. “PUT BAG IN BAGGING AREA”  was repeated in the same tone. No assistant now to help out on this one. I am in trouble. I have told an untruth and have been found out. Chickens have come home to roost. Nothing for it but to scan in the Daily Mail, pay and make a dash for it. Phew.

I made it to the zebra crossing outside, clutching one copy of the Daily Mail without being further electronically harassed and crossed the road without being hit by one of the numerous drivers playing the Reality Game “Let’s see how many people we can run down outside Tesco Express today”. (I feel another blog coming on here)

How these machines make us feel guilty, I have no idea. “We must have done something wrong….AAAHHH”, like fare dodgers on being confronted by a ticket inspector.

But I still go back to the counter from time to time because I miss the banter. The English are good at banter. I am not really certain, but I don’t think that the Swiss do Banter with complete strangers, but the English are top of the class. At the very least, it is compulsory to make some passing comment about the weather. “Is this rain ever going to end?” or “Good weather for a BBQ, isn’t it”.

If there was an Olympic event for “Banter at Checkouts” (which there should be, given the events that are being accepted now), then the British would be Gold medallists.