HAL Reborn

[rhythmaning]

I really don’t like computers that talk to me. Perhaps it goes back to my childhood, watching 2001: A Space Odyssey – has it left me scarred?

I also hate computer programmes that try to get me to do things their way; particularly programmes that are forever trying to get me to look for updates or otherwise log on to the internet at times which suit the computer but don’t suit me. I wish my computer would learn that I NEVER want it to send any information to Microsoft. And I’ll update when I am ready, not when some icons is flashing somewhere.

So it was that ten days ago, having spent a long time on the phone and suddenly realising that I had some niche shopping to do and that I hadn’t had anything to eat and lunch was well passed, I went into my local Tesco to grab something to eat before going off to buy olive oil and balsamic vinegar at V&C’s.

If you are interested, the somethings I grabbed were a Forfar bridie – a kind of meat pasty allegedly originating from a small town south of Aberdeen (and allegedly containing meat; I think they should do some DNA tests to check, though) – and a bag of raisin oatmeal cookies.

With my two items I went to the checkouts, and there were queues at all of them; except the self service checkout.

I had never used the self service checkout before, preferring some semblance of human contact in these exchanges whilst sponsoring foreign students on the minimum wage. But since I was hungry and in a hurry, I thought I’d risk it.

Thing is, they’ve given the self service checkout a rather patronising, pompous south-east England schoolteacher voice. (This is central Scotland, remember.) Within a second of swiping the first item, I knew I had made a mistake. I looked for the switch to cut her voice – since the written instructions were perfectly clear (all it would take would be an icon on the screen – “Do you want to hear the really irritating pompous woman bossing you about?” – “No!!!”) and there wasn’t one. Why have an irritating woman and written instructions. (OK, I could be deaf; or blind. But I am neither, for the moment.)

“Please swipe the first item.” I did that. “Place the item in the carrier.” I did that, removing the carrier from its holder so I could hold it in my right hand whilst my left hand swiped the next – and last – item.

“Please swipe the next item.” I did that, and put it in the carrier, and looked to end my interaction with the disembodied voice so I could scoff my bridie and head off to other, more expensive shops.

“Place the item in the carrier.” I had done that. “Place the item in the carrier.” I’ve done it. But the machine didn’t recognise that the carrier was now in my right hand, and not wherever it expected it to be.

And there was no way to move the machine on to finish the transaction. I was trying to give this harridan my money so I could leave pronto… “You don’t want to do that, Dave”, I imagined her saying. There was no abort button that I could see.

I had to be rescued by the checkout person that they install by the self service checkouts to cope with those of us who are no good at doing exactly what we’re told. (This defeats the object of having self service checkouts, I would have thought.)

I really can’t see the snooty woman catching on in north Edinburgh; I am really surprised that the Tesco designers hadn’t thought that some people might actually really hate their experience, the whole thing – just because they hadn’t thought to install a “silence” button.

Comments

[topicaltim.livejournal.com]

I don't use too many of these, but the last time I used one in M&S, they had failed to take into account people who want to use their own shopping bags, which means the voice keeps insisting you have something on the mechanism you haven't paid for. Which, in fairness, I suppose is true.

The last time it happened, the supervisor explained that you have to imitate Indiana Jones doing the bag of sand/little gold idol manoeuvre as you put the first item in your bag...

[rhythmaning.livejournal.com]

I didn't know M&S did this, too.

I hadn't thought about the bags issue - normally I take bags to use at the shops (my way of recycling), but on this occasion I hadn't.

I just find it ridiculous that we have to change our behaviour to suit the computers... A sure sign of bad design.

[f4f3.livejournal.com]

Forfar bridies are the food of the gods, and I can tell you where to get a good one in Forfar (this being the only possible reason for being in Forfar, unless you want to meet someone on the A9)

[itchyfidget.livejournal.com]

I've only used our local Space Tesco's once, and though it was interesting, I share your reservations.

[unblinkered.livejournal.com]

Aaargh. I read this earlier and thought "How nice that I live in techno-challenged Ireland, where these tings are of no concern to me", only to find that my 24 hour Tesco has been upgraded and now sports the exact same machines. And less open checkouts with huge queues. So, I thought, I only have a few items...I can do this. And everything worked fine until I got to the little packets of Options and the machine said "please place item in carrier" and I did and the machine said "please place item in carrier" and I wiggled it and it did the same again and then it went "error, please wait for support staff" and then the girl cam eover and jiggled it and entered a code and scanned the next packet of Options and it did it again and then it wouldn't read the salad and the whole thing took ages. And then I paid and packed and got out into the rainy car park.

And then the bag split.

[rhythmaning.livejournal.com]

And then the bag split. - LOL - perhaps this just proves that God (who doesn't exist!) has a sense of humour!

So did the machine in your Tesco have an Irish accent?

I find it strange that they are so concerned that you put the item in the carrier; I would have thought just swiping it would have been enough. Perhaps it is an anti-theft thing?

[unblinkered.livejournal.com]

My sense of humour had kinda run out at that point...and the machine had a snooty English accent!

I reckon it is a security thing...by making you put the item on the scales, they're trying to make sure that what you're scanning is what's going in the bag.