Self Checkout & ATMS Are A Privilege

And I don’t mean a white one.

There are some people out there who have patience, who don’t mind getting stuck behind people taking up the whole sidewalk, who don’t mind waiting in line, who can wait for things to get done. I am not one of those people. I have never had patience, especially when it comes to other people. Never, not once. This is only exasperated by being an Aries, which has relinquished all hope for me to ever grow some patience in my astrological garden (love saying the word astrological because it has the same affect on people as Larry David wearing a MAGA hat in “Curb Your Enthusiasm”, I should do both to be honest). Because of this, I’m a BIG FAN of the self checkout and the ATM. Big fan. Both allow me to be the master of my own domain. No one touching my groceries, no one clicking their gum at me, no one asking me if I want to donate to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital or Feed America or The Homeless Guy That Always Plays A Good Rock Radio Station But You’ve Seen Get Taken Away By The EMTs One Too Many Times, or worse - ask if I’m robbing the bank based on my agitated state, NO! Master of my own domain. (My brain movements) So let’s get into it! But don’t get comfortable because I have a big ole feels entry I’m working on that won’t make you laugh at all. I think I’ll save that for everyone’s holiday suffering because I do love to be the icing on the cake.

Hm, where to start - the supermarket self check out or the ATM? Which came first? Well, definitely the ATM. That was always so fun so be with your mom and be like “OOOOOH MOM LET ME PRESS THE SECRET CODE!!!”. Thinking back to that, it was like the internet before the universally distributed internet we found out about a few years later. OK sure, I’ll address the elephant in the room since we’re all asking. I’m 32, I was born in 1990. If you want my star chart, you’ll have to ask one my exes. I’m sure they’ll have it for you, filed away, next to their bleach martini bar. So yes, I do remember Bradlee’s and an ATM with a green screen that is now the equivalent of playing Fallout and having to crack safe and door codes. It looked like this if you’re too young to have never played with this dollhouse (sucks to be you). Now that being said, I never remember a line growing up going to the ATM with my mom. In fact, people didn’t trust it. “I DON’T WANT NO GHAT-DANG MACHINE HANDLIN’ MY HARD EARNED MONEY (see also: “THEY TOOK EHR JERBS”. It was a simpler time. Before online shopping. Before Ask Jeeves even. I should really shut up or else AARP is going to start sending me offers. Now on the other hand, nobody wants to talk to a person. Nobody wants to see you pissed off at your job, angry, overworked, underpaid, pissed off, had to let six motherfucking people take their break before you because some asshole in a suit says so or some stupid shmuck has low blood sugar. Is social security going to credit me for the cigarette breaks I never took? No they’re not because they won’t exist because the money’s going to run out before I get there AND/OR the world will end in 2050. But I digress, we’re here to talk about mean ATM machines. So, where I live, it’s a city, keep that in mind. Now during the pandemic, we had ONE ATM machine that serviced everyone who had this bank branch. I won’t say which one because they’re all the fucking devil, and please miss me with that “well you should get a credit union” because you should stay in your 9-5, no-traveling-ass-having-normal-life and understand that some of us don’t have the lifestyles that support us driving 20 minutes to make a deposit. Which is whole other conversation about classism and why there are more big banks and check cashing places in the hood than in nicer neighborhoods. ANYWAY. They finally installs TWO ATMs as the bank was finally opening to take customers with real people. That’s wonderful…or so I thought. Now, when I go to the bank, I need one of two things: I either need to put money IN or, I need to take money OUT. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHY ONE PERSON NEEDS TWENTY MINUTES TO HANDLE THEIR BUSINESS AT THE ATM???????????????1? I have seen people on MANY occasions change the language each time they cash a check, as if their loved one who they’re handling business for knows that the check is being deposited in a language other than their own. Now, if a person is going deposit a check or cash or use the ATM and the ATM asks, “which language bitch?”, would they not choose their own language? A CHECK CANNOT READ, IT DOES NOT CARE. Long story short, you can catch me waiting 20 minutes to use the ATM on any given day at the bank. FOR NO REASON IN PARTICULAR. I don’t even want to be there, I hate the fucking bank!

And after I go handle my business at my local ATM, I may need to pick up some groceries, which, in my opinion, is worse. Why Kerry? Because people have more ghatdamn options on that ghatdamn screen. Now, I know what I need at this Shaws. Would I rather be a DeMoulas (pronounced Market Basket for you fine readers from not here)? 100000%. However, I live next door to a Shaws, and also, I enjoy not playing Super Market Sweep every time I go to the grocery store. I feel like the longer this blog exists, the more I need to tag shit, but I got asked if I was in school the other day so you can kiss my ass. When we’re underwater, I’ll look like Jack on the Titanic. Anyway, I know what I need to get. Because I live next door, I don’t do like the big $200 shopping trips. I buy things my girlfriend and I will need for a few days and that’s perfect. So say today I need oat milk, almond milk (yes both, one works better for her milk frother, I know one of you people will comment something dumb, and that’s why I spend more time in the anthology of my blog than actually writing), (2) boxes of gluten free and vegan man n cheese, super expensive eggs that aren’t mean to chickens, vegan cheese that I’m stoked I found a perfect brand for, cold pressed OJ which is $10 fucking dollars but worth it, Bagel Bites TM, and yeah that’s probably it. And I know some bitch ass motherfucker is going to go “Meh Kerry where’s your produce”? Excuse you bitch, I live in East Boston, I buy it from bodegas and the side of the road because I’m LUCKY. I get better produce than anyone in the northeast unless they’re growing it themselves. Oh, and maybe toilet paper. But yeah, so I know what I’m getting because everyone loves to be in my business. Now my rule of thumb is that I don’t give a fuck if you have 100 items, so long as you’re aware of the self-check out regulations. Because, when it’s my turn up, it’s a competition. I was about to make another reference to that Dane Cook/Jessica Simpson movie called “Employee of the Month'‘ but he’s marrying an 18 year old and she’s Jessica Simpson. I’d have to tag so many things; I’m exhausted and my english muffin is getting cold. I give some people a pass, like the old ‘Nam vets, they get a pass. However, there’s always someone who’s like in their 50’s who has lived and most likely worked with a computer for 25 years and can navigate what’s happening. They have a fucking IPhone for fuck’s sake. But the second that self checkout yells at them for not putting their shit on the scale, they act like Joe Biden and Millennials (they mean Gen Z but sure) are fucking ruining not only the self checkout, but also: the housing market, inflation and unemployment while simultaneously, between having the time between three jobs, an internship, and being responsible for the chore wheel in their 6 person, 3 bedroom apartment, to force feed children their gay agenda and septum- piercing monarchy. When in all actuality, it’s really just, “lady, take your own fuckin’ advice and stop texting your friend Kelly about if she wants Trulys or the Snoop Dogg wine while you’re trying to find fucking red onion in the vegetable page”. PLOT TWIST: RED ONIONS WON’T BE ON THE SAME PAGE AS FUCKING BANANAS.

I gave myself a hernia writing this. I really do think that you should have to get some type of identification to use either service because anything more than 5-7 minutes at each is ridiculous. By the way, I figure out when each article is done by how many times I need to use spellcheck. So this is done. Goodnight.