Shopping HoH Style


My plan was simple.  Since it was cool out, the dog would “guard the car” and I would jet into the local Stop and Shop, grab a hand scanner, throw the stuff in my re-usable bags, scan out, and dash back home in time for a quick dog walk.

I’m assuming that in most major metro areas there is one store (or more) with the little hand scanner that technically allows you check out in nothing flat so you know what they are. These gadgets make a beeping noise when an item is logged in.  Or at least they do when I am wearing my hearing aid.  When I am not wearing my hearing aid I have to eagle-eye it to make sure the item rang in.

Tonight was a non-hearing aid night since the battery beeped out on me.  Everything went great – right up until checkout.  It was my opportunity to get randomly audited.  The clerk had to re-scan five items. He’s having problems scanning one of them.  And because I can’t hear the beep and I can’t see the machine I’m trying to figure out if it didn’t scan to begin with.  Because he’s having problems of his own he’s not answering me – or if he is I’m not hearing him because he’s mumbling (probably speaking normally) while looking down at the hand scanner.

And because time was of the essence (for me), his supervisor had to be called over to help him.  Since deleting the 5-item checksum didn’t work, then another supervisor was needed.  My eyes were sort of bugging out, trying to look around corners so I could figure out what was going on with the darned hand scanner.  Then, thankfully, some bit was twiddled and the order went through –  in silence.  They were elated.  I realized it would have taken less time to get all my stuff scanned and bagged at a register.

Next time, I swear, I am going to take the time to pop a new battery in the hearing aid and wear it into the store!  Not that it would have saved time, but at least I’d have understood what all the hoopla was about.

No, the dog never got his walk, but he did a treat of mashed sweet potatoes when we got home.  BTW, apparently sweet potatoes = noxious gas.  OMG…

And if you haven’t read the book, Walter the Farting Dog, please consider doing so.  It’s a riot.  🙂

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2 comments

  1. I refuse to use them. I look at it like this: a) there’s a job for a high school kid or a retiree. b) “Slop and Drop” isn’t paying me enough to do their job for them. I stood by and watched the banking industry decimate the tellers. The army of cleanly starched and saluting gas station attendants one came to expect at fill-ups of days gone by, have become a quaint joke in American pop culture. No, you sell me something, the least you can do is ring it up and bag it for me.

    1. I only use them if I am in a huge rush. I will probably never use one again.

      I miss the days when they used to carry my groceries out to the car. They did that in Alaska – when I came to New England it was not happening.

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