A Burko a day Keeps the Psycho Away
September 2nd 2009 21:00
Photo by Zereshk. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
This is one of my favourite sayings. The psycho part actually is short for psychologist or psychiatrist but depending on the context, it can also stand for psycho as in psychotic person or psychopath.
The reason why I am having such thoughts is that over the weekend, I was using those new self-serve checkout systems at my local Woolworths. Being a misanthrope, I jumped at the chance to buy my groceries without any interaction with people.
The only problem was when I went to put a new green bag at the checkout, the machine kept beeping at me.
Readers of this blog will remember an earlier rant about the checkout chick who asked me if I was Korean. She came over to help me. She smelt of mothballs. I wrinkled my nose in distaste; I just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant having to navigate the self-service checkout on its one.
She started telling me that I could only put a new bag on the checkout once the light turns green. She kept repeating this as if I was stupid so I snapped at her, “I know.”
“You know?” she said.
F*ck off, I wanted to say but instead I said yes.
******
I have a b*tch to my best friend Andrea. As I started to calm down, I began to feel guilty for being rude to the checkout chick and for not being in better control of my emotions.
The next day I am back at the supermarket. Same time, same place. This time, there is a crusty old man who is upset that one of the checkout chicks removed one of his items. He was also using the self-serve checkouts and demanded they give him back his item as he wanted to purchase it.
I scanned my items, paid and started to leave. Behind me, the man started chucking a burko, saying he will be lodging a complaint with Woolworth’s U.S. head office. All the checkout staff looked bewildered. I also noticed they were all the nice ones.
Why couldn’t the Korean-lover be on duty that day?
I feel less guilty about my snappy response. On the burko scheme of things, mine was a one; the old man’s a five.
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