Self-service customer service
So, in the midst of running errands this morning, I stop in at the local big box improvement center, which shall remain nameless (it's the one with the orange signs), to pick up some TSP and primer so I can paint my front door. I head for the paint department, where I quickly locate the quart cans of Kilz2 latex primer.
Things start to go downhill from then on. I make a complete circuit of the paint department, scrutinizing the shelves for surface cleaning products. I finally find one section that includes paint strippers, concrete cleaner/degreaser, and stuff like Goo-Gone. No TSP, or even TSP substitute. I decide to try the general cleaning product section a couple of aisles away. It's loaded with detergents, household cleaners, and stuff for cleaning your deck, siding, or driveway... but no TSP.
OK, back to the paint department, where I encounter a chipper young man who asks me if I'm finding everything OK. Actually, I say, I'm looking for TSP. When this fails to bring a glint of recognition to his eyes, I prompt, "It's for cleaning surfaces before priming and painting." Ah. He heads for the paint stripper section. "It should be here somewhere." No, I say, I've already looked there, and there's nothing labeled TSP or TSP substitute. Pause. "Is TSP a brand name, or is it the chemical in the cleaner?" This guy is working in the paint department, and he's never heard of TSP? Next he says, "If it's not here, maybe it's with the other cleaners a couple of aisles over..." No, I say, I've already looked there, too. "Well, then I guess we don't carry it."
This strains credulity. TSP is the classic, standard cleaner/degreaser/deglosser for prepping surfaces for painting. Even if the Big Orange Home Improvement chain has gone wildly green, they at least must have a TSP substitute. As a last ditch effort before making a special trip to the Big Blue Home Improvement chain, I'm preparing to ask the lad if there's anyone in the paint department older than 17 who might have at least heard of TSP before...
... when my eye falls on the shelves across the aisle from the paint strippers, where I suddenly spot, tucked up on a high shelf above the cans of paint thinner, turpentine, and denatured alcohol, boxes of TSP. And a bit lower down, bottles of a TSP substitute concentrate. I point them out to the young man (so that, hopefully, he will be a tad better prepared for the next customer looking to paint her front door), grab a bottle of the substitute, and head for the checkout lanes.
Having had my fill of human customer service for the day, I plunk my purchases down at one of the self-service checkout stations and scan the bar code on the TSP substitute. The checkout station registers the purchase and then exhorts me to bag the item while I fumble with a bag, trying to pull it open. Well, I guess I must have taken too long for the machine's limited patience, because by the time I actually got the bottle into the bag, the screen had appended the comment "Item Not Bagged" next to the line item. Then, the following message pops up at the top of the screen:
UNEXPECTED ITEM FOUND IN BAGGING AREA. PLEASE REMOVE ITEM BEFORE PROCEEDING.WTF? You told me to bag the damned thing, and I did. What's unexpected about that?
OK, I take the bottle out of the bag, and the "UNEXPECTED ITEM" message goes away. It's still saying the item isn't bagged, so I try putting it in the bag again.
UNEXPECTED ITEM FOUND IN BAGGING AREA. PLEASE REMOVE ITEM BEFORE PROCEEDING.I give up and flag down the young lady who's overseeing the self-service checkout area. She comes over and looks at the message, tries taking the bottle out and putting it back again, and gets the same message. She goes back to her master station and, apparently, tells my register that the item is not unexpected and to shut up about it. The message goes away, though the register is still convinced that the Item is Not Bagged. I scan my can of Kilz2 and hastily insert it in the bag before the register decides that it, too, is Not Bagged and finds another UNEXPECTED ITEM in the bagging area. Success! I swipe my credit card, sign, and get out of there before it changes its mind.
After this, negotiating the checkout at Wal-Mart with $70 worth of groceries is almost a picnic.
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