Hey all. The reason I haven't posted much here this week is because I was preoccupied with a little thing known as Hurricane Matthew that was happening at the same time I was attending an out of town media event. As Salem mentioned on Friday's highly relevant post, I evacuated to Georgia to avoid not only any destruction the storm might bring, but also the annoyances of loss of power, water and internet, and now I'm hanging out with friends and being Prepper Fabulous in full-on girl mode.
So with that said, here is a rant I wrote on Facebook:
Today, I got all girled up to go meet some friends and hang out with them, and I had a *great* time.
And then I went to Walmart.
I needed to pick up some supplies because, frankly, I have Super Jew hair on pasty Irish skin, and that means I have to shave to a fare-thee-well if I want a chance of hiding Ye Olde 1700 Umbra with makeup. This means I go through razor blades fairly quickly, and getting girled up today killed both my boy razor (face) and girl razor (other), so I needed new ones
Thus I went to Walmart, and acquired fresh horses, and while I was there I got a few other things for my girlie side like scrunchies and the like.
And then I had to check out.
Now the thing you need to know about me is that while I am not completely antisocial, checkout is one of those times where I truly do not want to deal with people because they will try to talk to me and UGH all I want to do is buy my shit and leave. I don't want to talk, I don't want to be asked how I'm doing or how my day has been been, just ring me up and get me out.
Now, because I am not a rude piece of shit, when I do not feel like dealing with cashiers, I go to the self-checkout units because they don't ask me how my day was. This is perfect. It's doubly perfect because, well, I wanted to use my debit card instead of cash, and since my card is in my legal boy name, I figured using the card would invite judgement or questioning looks.
Yes, I am aware that the cashiers likely don't look at the names, and if they do they won't give a shit. See above re: me and fucks given. Also, knowing my luck, I'd get the one assiduous cashier who would look to see if the signature matched, see the difference, and call the manager and/or the police because clearly I'd stolen a debit card from some guy so I could buy $30 of beauty products.
Anyway. I get to self checkout and proceed to scan and bag. I get ALMOST DONE when the machine says that I didn't bag the item -- or maybe it said there was something in the bag that didn't belong, I don't recall. The point here is that I had been doing everything properly, with everything that ought to have been in the bag actually in the bag, and nothing in the bag that shouldn't have been in it.
So the machine doesn't like my arrangement, fine. I take the item out and put it back in to make it happy. It still doesn't like it. Okay, fine, I will take out ALL THE ITEMS, cancel the entire transaction, and do it all again but slower because apparently this machine is special needs.
I try to cancel out, and the machine basically throws a fit by saying that it requires an associate to void the transaction. In other words, now am I not only going to have to deal with a human, I get the added pleasure of looking like either an idiot who doesn't know how to self-checkout, or some shady bitch who's trying to scam the Mart of Walls.
At this point, I just threw my hands up and walked the the fuck away. Yes, I abandoned all my items; there weren't that many and an associate was going to come over anyway, and frankly I was tired of the whole thing. All I wanted was to buy my crap and leave, and instead I was dealing with technology which couldn't understand that I had indeed properly scanned and bagged my crap.
Call me petty, but I felt that buying stuff after that would be saying "Sure, you have shitty tech that gives poor service, but have my money anyway." I reward good customer service and shun poor.
Thank you for listening to me gripe. I feel better now.