An Open Letter to the Self-Checkout Rock Star

Dear Self-Checkout Lane Rock Star,

This was one once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I could not miss. Front row seats to watch a self-checkout rock star? Umm… YES PLEASE. The way you searched for three minutes to find a bar code to scan on an item was intense. It had me at the edge of my seat, cheering you on, because I never knew how long it would take for you to find the next bar code!

I’ve been behind some dreadfully robotic people in the self-checkout lane before, so I wholeheartedly admire that you were not afraid to show your true colors and shout at the machine for not scanning your baguettes properly! It didn’t matter that I had to go home and cook dinner for my family of five. This was worth it! It’s not every day you get to watch a master in action.

When you shoved massive watermelons into my hands and shouted at me to read the number on them, I nearly died out of excitement. I was star struck. You saw me…! I almost asked for a selfie, but I chickened out.

Honestly, watching you scan your items as fast as it took to restock the whole store was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I can’t believe you allowed me to observe your rugged rock star-esque way of life. I still have to pinch myself when I think of the pure bliss I got from touching your already opened talcum powder!! It’s so much more exciting than my boring, almost curdled milk.

When you were finished scanning your items, it was time for the grand finale. I had always assumed that paying in pennies wasn’t the preferred method of payment. However, you completely changed my mind. It is such a better, more intimate experience of paying. It’s like switching from CD’s to vinyls. You can never go back. The way you carefully placed every penny in the machine assured me I was making poor life decisions and I promptly went to the bank to get rolls of pennies for my next grocery store visit.

Seeing you leave the store always brings tears to my eyes. I don’t want it to end. All I want to do is to soak up the experience like those sponges that soaked up the leaking TV dinners I bought. All I really want to do is to spend another hour, watching you!

I hope to be behind you again someday soon. Maybe then I’ll muster up the courage to ask you for a selfie and give you this note I wrote for you… I adore the Sundays I run into you at the self-checkout lane.