PinPad Hell [ Vintage Dispatches ]

Business travel this week and catching up from the Holidays. So here’s another “Vintage Dispatch”, originally published September 26, 2024.

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There you are, casually strolling into the local Gas and Gulp, seeking a bag of Taco Flavored Doritos. Or maybe you’re at the pet store, getting some kibble for the pooch, perhaps the big box hardware store, securing duct tape and spackle for this weekend’s project.

No matter - the point is that you’re ‘in the zone’ and on a mission - get the goods and get gone! You grab a sweet parking space by the front door, breeze into the store, lock-in on the items you need in Aisle 4, and saunter up to the checkout line.

Oh no. There are 14 people in line, including an old lady with coupons, several people intent on selecting very specific lottery tickets, and a lonely middle-aged man who obviously just wants a conversation. There is only one line, and the dead-eyed teenage checkout staffer moves lethargically, popping bubble-gum with a professional disinterest in anything remotely approaching speed and efficiency. No good!

But wait, there is the automatic checkout stall, the self-scanning option. Go!

You roll up, bar code primed for swiping, and prepare to make your escape…

“Please Scan Your Item”

• Flick, beep! Done! Let’s rock-n-roll…

“Place the item in the bagging area”

• What? I did. It’s right there! See? And I don’t even need a bag, I’ll carry my loot out myself…[ shuffles merchandise around ]

“Place the item in the bagging area”

• Crap. Oh god…please don’t ping the attendant, he’s too busy ID’ing that dude buying a six pack. Plus, the whole point of this line was to avoid any sort of human interaction whatsoever…wait, a reset! We’re in business!

“Enter your Loyalty rewards number”

• Ha ha ha, I don’t think so. I’m not giving you my data and personal information so you can feed it to some AI vampire like Elon Musk or Peter Thiel who will then triangulate, segment, and distort my digital existence, all for a few measly discounts or a free cup of coffee. Loyalty? I am loyal to people and ideals, to truth and honor and my Dog…not to this heap of bricks. Stuff it!

“How many bags do you wish to purchase?”

• FFS. I don’t need a bag, I have 2 items. Let’s go. Conceptually I appreciate the need to avoid throwaway bags, especially plastic. But can we just do the right thing here and make a couple paper bags ‘gratis’ if needed? I’ll bring my own most of the time, but this nickel-and-dime accounting reeks of a hidden profit generator, MBA school bullshit.

“Select Payment Method”

• The Card, of course! Who carries cash anymore? Why do you even need to ask? Plus, the sign on the checkout machine says Cards only, dumbass.

“Please Continue on the Pad to the Right.”

• [EYE ROLL]…because it’s too much to ask that the universe design a single machine that can both scan your merchandise and accept payment. Now I have to switch gears and move to the little pad glued to the lower right corner of the checkout stand? Sigh.

“Credit or Debit?”

• Why are you asking me? I don’t care…I just want out of here. You’re the stupid technology platform. There is literally a chip in the card - and you’re telling me that your ‘chip reader’ can’t tell the difference? There’s not a default setting? The stupid algorithm can’t just auto-detect it?

“The Total is $9.30, is this correct?”

• I don’t friggin’ work here - that’s your job! You are supposed to tell me the accurate total. You just want me to sign off so you are free of any liability if you get it wrong. Screw that! [Presses ‘Yes’]

“Do you want to round up your total to $10.00 as a donation to Biscuit’s Cat Rescue and Dog Retirement Farm?”

• DAMN IT, NO! Don’t try to hide your capitalism with a veneer of community service. If you want to give to charity - then do so! Tilt some of those profits to various non-profits. I don’t care. But don’t try to earn my goodwill by donating MY pennies to some local institution that would probably benefit a great deal more by a stable, reliable corporate sponsorship.

“Do you want cash back?”

• When the hell did every retail establishment decide to act like a Bank ATM? How did we get here? Is it leftover from the days when we would ‘cash a check’? Does the store get any profit out of this? Wait, what if I asked for cash, then cycled this transaction back to the beginning and paid with the same cash? Could I cause some kind of temporal infinity loop? Short circuit reality? Hmmm….

“Enter your PIN”

• Oh, so now you apparently know what kind of card I am using? Finally, getting somewhere. Shit, where’s the ‘Enter’ button? Is that it - with the faded text and obscure arrow pointing to an unnamed key? Where are my glasses now…

“Please enter your Zip Code”

• [ Stares dejectedly at the coupon lady leaving the store ] Fine, whatever. Apparently I have to validate my existence across multiple data points for this stupid, stupid transaction to ever conclude…

“Do you want a receipt?”

• YES! I need proof of this stupid exchange, because I don’t trust you bandits to get things right. I need hard evidence to come back and challenge you if I must! I need validation, something to show for the time, energy, and spiritual malaise that will populate my memories for years to come. After the goods are gone, after we all waste away in our graves…after the sun fizzles out and space-time collapses in the heat-death of the beyond…THAT RECEIPT WILL SHOW THAT I WAS THERE! THAT I FOUGHT THE MACHINE! THAT I EMERGED - IF NOT VICTORIOUS - AT LEAST TRUE TO THE MISSION AND TRIUMPHANT IN SPIRT. AND I WANT A PAPER COPY, NOT ONE EMAILED TO ME YOU WRETCHES, YOU MERCHANTS FROM HELL!!!!!

[ Transaction Complete ]

Beaten, demoralized, and robbed of hope…you walk to your car, munching on a stale Dorito, wondering if humanity can - or even should - survive.

…a few hours later…

[ Text Message ] “Would you take our quick survey to share your experience shopping with us?”

• [ Head explodes ]

Lyrical Truth Bomb

When musicians say what needs to be said:

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Disclaimer:

All content and opinions are solely those of the author (Jack), and not representative of my employer, former employers, clients, anyone in Congress, my family, former college roommates, Baptists, the good citizens of Colorado, or my dog Mabel.