Good "old" self check: Why I won't be shopping at Woodman's again.

Happy Thursday all!

Since Peaches moved out I really don't have a reason to get my girth out of bed much before 7:30, which is about when I need to run a brush over my teeth and get into my desk chair for work.  Generally, however, I do get up a shade before 7, get a walk in, feed the cats, make coffee, that sort of thing.

I accomplish more before 8 AM than I do the entire rest of the day.  Wait...that didn't sound right.

Anyway, this morning, I decided to get up at 6, and get some light grocery shopping done.  Now, we have two 24 hour stores the same distance from my house. One is Meijer, one is Woodman's.  Product by product, price by price, I like Woodman's more.  They have more local brands that I really like. They have the flavor of Yoplait yogurt that Skippy really likes.  The thing is, I always feel a little claustrophobic in Woodman's because they are always more crowded, they have a lower ceiling, which makes them feel smaller.  Also, Meijer has a better meat and produce department.

So the biggest deciding factor for where I go and spend my grocery dollar tends to rest on the check out experience.

When it comes to check out, I like Woodman's more, as well, because they unload the cart, scan stuff, and load the cart again.  Given the constant pain I have in my hands and back, any help I can get with the groceries is appreciated.

The thing is, Woodman's NEVER has enough cashiers, which means standing in line forever, which, if you have read this blog for longer than a week, you know standing in line is not my favorite thing to do.  (Self check is NOT an option.  It's too hard on my hands and back.)  So if I shop at Woodman's it's either because Hubby is with me or because it's a weird time of day when the sto
re won't be mobbed.

Self check? You ask. Do I use self check?  NO!  Not if I can help it.  Unless they're handing discounts out for using a machine that gives you no customer service and yells at you for mystery items in the bagging area.

And, of course, I have trouble handling self check because it's never just SELF. Something always goes wrong, then I have to WAIT for a person to help me.  Add that to the sweat I build up (which triggers hot flashes) loading and unloading groceries and scanning them and bagging them and what you wind up with is a giant sweaty woman aching hands and back, swearing never to return to self check again. 

So today I arrived at the 47 check out lanes at the front of my Woodman's store.  It was 6:50 AM.  This is notable because, as I learned THIS MORNING, there are no live cashiers before 7 AM.  Oh sure, there's a big sign that says there's a full service lane....but there's no one in it. Which means self check.  So I hauled my cart down to self check...where there was a back up!  WHO ELSE IS SHOPPING BEFORE 7 IN THE MORNING ON A THURSDAY?

Apparently everyone.  Well, okay, four people which was just enough to bog down the self check system and make me wait in line.  TO CHECK OUT MY OWN GROCERIES.

Also, the people checking out their groceries at self check were all having, let's say, difficulty.  I actually waited four or five minutes before giving up and moving down to the regular lanes.  Better to wait for someone to open up a cash register than to watch people separately and in oh so many different way bog down the check out process.

I waited the six minutes (actually more like eight) it took for a cashier and bagger to walk over to an actual check out lane and open up. I then got my cart in there and let them do their work. It was early, so I expect little polite chit chat and I got what I expected.  But since I'd bought enough items for the silence to be uncomfortable, I thought I'd just kick things off a little.

"So I figured I'd wait for you to open up. I can't really do self check on my own," I said with a smile on my face.

"Oh then you're not going to like the news," muttered the cashier.

"Yeah, they're tearing out all of these lanes and putting in all self check," added the bagger, a sort of emo-hipster girl who could not have been more than thirteen.  (Also, she was clearly being trained by the cashier who was clearly exhausted with the training.)

"All?"  I gasp.

"Well, like, half of them.  That's what Gary decided," said the cashier.  "I wish I could decide stuff."

Granted, they never have more than half the check out lanes open at any given time. In fact, if Woodman's would open half the lanes, I would probably not have to stand in line there and I'd shop there more often.

Still, this was really disconcerting news.

"I'm not sure I like that. I have arthritis. It's hard for me to use the self check," I said in a conversational manner.  "Is this a matter of a labor shortage?"  (Woodman's is CONSTANTLY looking for cashiers. I figured maybe they just gave up looking.)

"No, this is a keeping things moving thing," grumbled the cashier.  "Other stores have all these self check lanes and it seems to be working."

You know what else would work?  Adding literally one, just one, more cashier to every shift.  Seriously.

"Wow. That's really disappointing that they are going that route," I say.

"Yeah, a lot of the old people aren't going to like it.," mumbles the emo-hipster bagger. 

Let's let that sink in for a moment.

Tiny blonde sad teen girl who is training on the job...did she just call me old?   Did she just lump me in with the OLD PEOPLE who can't operate self check, not because their hands are crippled with arthritis, but because they are confused by technology?  Did she just add me to the group of patrons who will be unhappy with this change not because it means, yet again, fewer services for the same amount of money, but because I'm too old to do things for myself?

I AM NOT OLD!  I was shopping before 7 in the morning! Old people don't shop then...well except for that one guy who was really bogging down self check this morning.  You know where old people are at 7 in the morning?  They are at DENNY'S. They are not grocery shopping.

I tried to reign in my rage.  "Well, I'm glad you're still going to have some real check out lanes.  I like having the extra help."

"Yeah, well, this wasn't my decision," said the very weary cashier.  "And a lot of old people are going to really not like this."

AGAIN WITH THE OLD!  First of all, aren't those OLD PEOPLE, also your customers?

Second...I combed my hair, I brushed my teeth, I put on eyeliner and a cool radio station T-shirt. I AM NOT OLD. I protect the use of self check because I don't like self check, and if it's not a matter of labor shortage, then why should I have to check out my groceries and scan them and bag them and load them in my cart?  

They don't make me do all that at Meijer.  

They also don't call me "Old" at Meijer.  

Just sayin'.

Pride and Prejudice and Lumberjacks (There's a reason I have a buffer treadmill rule.)

Happy Saturday morning to everyone!

Before I launch into what brought me here this morning, I have to say this:  I went to the gym today, not something I've every done on a Saturday, and had a good workout. That's not the funny part.  No, the funny part is as I was leaving the gym, feeling all healthy and good about myself and resolved that I was going to eat good, healthy meals this weekend, in walks one of the Xperience fitness trainers...carrying his breakfast...from McDonalds.  Yes, a large soda and a sausage egg mcMuffin...and there was something else in the bag.  

Really?

This picture of fitness strolling past my sweaty fluffiness, eating the equivalent of crack in my world.

I wanted to yell, "Hey!  Guy!  I was once fit and trim like you. And about 30,000 sausage egg McMuffins later, here I am!"

But I didn't. I went to Denny's instead.

Anyway I'm not here to talk about my food fail.  I'm here to talk about my workout yesterday.  Admittedly, I wasn't feeling all that strong yesterday morning.  I was a little stiff (I've added hand weights to my afternoon walking work) and very tired.  I spent some time on the bike as a warm up, but mostly I was on the treadmill.

I have rules about using the treadmill.  I believe in the buffer rule. You know the buffer rule, because it applies to a lot of things like urinals, movie theater seats, chairs at the airport, chairs at the doctor's office.  We as a society feel the need for a space between us and any stranger next to us.  Now, it's not always possible for the treadmill because sometimes the gym is busy and you can't get a buffer mill on either side of you. Given that choice, I'll go closer to the person who is moving the slowest.  I'm not a runner.  I don't need to look like I'm actually moving in slow motion.

So yesterday I noticed that "Pride and Prejudice" was playing on one of the overhead TVs.  I love that movie.  And hey, the closed captioning was actually working.  Most days the CC on the TVs at Xperience is nothing but gibberish. Hubby and I think it's because the terrorists have gotten to those networks.  But only randomly. Like on Tuesday the terrorists had ESPN's CC while on Thursday they had CNN. 

I was excited about watching a slow paced British cast wander through Jane Austen's dense prose.  No one on my left, no one on my right, I got on the treadmill and started walking.

Nothing says, "get your burn on" quite like this movie.

Five minutes later, this hulking sweaty guy got on the treadmill DIRECTLY NEXT TO ME and started running.  Or rather...lumbering.  Lumbering heavily.  And sweating...a LOT...and grunting.  And wiping his face and grunting.  

It wasn't that busy. In fact in a row of 14 treadmills we were the only two people.  He could have picked any of the other ones.  But no, this brute of a human spent the next 20 minutes thumping and grunting and sweating and wiping less than two feet away from me.

Let's talk about sweat spray for a moment. No one thinks about it because, if we are honest, few of us work out hard enough to projectile sweat.  But this guy...well, let's say he was making it rain, and not like those guys in the club with money.  Ew.

I seethed about this the entire time I was there because he was definitely interfering with my enjoyment of the movie.  COME ON DUDE!  REALLY?  I'm trying to watch Keira Knightly get all in a twist about Matthew MacFadyen.  WOULD YOU STOP SWEATING ON ME AND GRUNTING LIKE YOU'RE STAVING OFF A HEART ATTACK AND TAKE YOUR INCREDIBLE HULK BODY ONE TREADMILL TO THE RIGHT?  And yes, I did have to wipe his sweat off of my treadmill and no, I didn't like it.  Ew.

I didn't say any of that, of course. I'm a well brought up Midwestern girl We are polite and keep our negative feelings to ourselves...until we can blog about it.  

Walking out of the gym with Hubby, he asked me this: "Why did you pick that treadmill?"

Me:  Because it was directly in front of the TV with Pride and Prejudice.

Him:  But that guy was on the one next to you.

Me: Not when I got on, no one was on any of those in the row. That's why I picked it.  

Him: I thought it was weird that you picked one right next to someone. (See, he knows my rules.)

Me:  Yeah, but he wasn't there. He picked the one next to me.

Him: No, he stopped to go use the bathroom or something.

Me:  Well then he should have left something ON the treadmill so everyone else knows he's using it.

Him:  Everyone else did know he was using it. 

Me:  (silent for a moment because I believe if you're going to leave a treadmill for any reason, then you're done on it. And if you're not, you should leave a towel or a water bottle or something.  And he didn't.  So by rule he should have then obeyed the rule of the buffer treadmill.)

Him:  I'm going to call that guy Jack.  (Hubby and I have nicknames for all the regulars.  yellow headphones guy, black headphones guy, old couple with trainer, three guys upstairs who all look like Skippy, George who Hubby knows,  guy who looks like George but isn't, and that

Even in high school I had a response for nonsense like this.

really old guy who talks Packers with everyone.)

Me:  Why Jack?

Him: Because...he lumbers!