
I don’t recall when I applied to become a checker at a grocery store. In fact, I’m fairly certain I am a writer by trade and have never worked in a grocery store, honorable work though it may be.
And yet it seems most stores I wander into to make a purchase have enlisted me to check out my groceries.
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Well, I QUIT this unsought job I’ve been shanghaied into.
The self-checkout machine has been around longer than you might think.
I had that thought once again recently, standing beneath the cold fluorescent lights of a large American retailer, attempting to make my purchase — avocados, paper towels, toothpaste, and a package of hamburger — from a machine that clearly regarded me as a criminal. It beeped red and
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