The consumer magazine Which? ran an article this month claiming that a third of the 7000 people it surveyed had cursed at a check out machine. I know the feeling…
These are the self-service checkout machines they have in supermarkets. You can choose to use them instead of standing in the long queues because there is never a queue at a self-service checkout machine. The reason for this is simple. It’s because the bastards are so infuriatingly and frustratingly fucking annoying that they test our patience to the fucking limits. That’s why the Which? survey says that a third of the people in its survey have resorted to using the f-word when using these machines.
Of course, supermarket checkout machines aren’t the only pieces of technology that force the occasional little swear word from between my normally patient lips. There are three others that immediately spring to mind.
Car Park Access Points
You know the type. You drive up, lean out and press the red button to dispense your ticket. The problem is that you have to park at exactly the right angle and distance or you are unable to reach the red button.
I have found myself having to roll down my window completely and still I can’t reach the little fucker. I have tried opening the car door only to find that I may be too far away to reach the button but I’m too close to allow the door to open wide enough to get out. I’ve tried to drive forward for clearance but the barrier stops progress, and I’ve tried to reverse but there’s always some arsehole who is has now joined the queue and is impatiently drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. I have been known on occasion to kneel on the driver’s seat and lean out through the window at my maximum length, which must surely qualify as a health and safety issue in some car parks.
Knowing that I had to go to a particularly bad car park one day, my wife furnished me with a garden cane and demonstrated how this could be used to reach the red button at the access point. I put this in the car and drove off. On reaching the car park, and unable to reach the red button, I used the cane and out popped my parking ticket. I replaced the cane behind the driver’s seat only to discover that I couldn’t stretch far enough to reach the fucking ticket.
ATMs
My problem isn’t so much with the machines, though these can sometimes cause me problems if I choose Mandarin Chinese instead of English as my preferred language. My most frequent problem is with the person in front of me.
First, they are never ready. It’s only when they are pressed securely against the ATM and have had good look around to ensure that no one can see what they are doing that they actually get a card out of their purse or pocket. They then get a mini statement, which they compare with the monthly bank statement they’ve brought with them.
Next, they make a deposit. I won’t bore you with the details but, believe me, this takes forever, especially when the person feels that anyone within a five mile radius is going to mug them and is constantly looking around and not concentrating on actually stuffing the fucking envelope and making the deposit.
Then out comes another card from the depths of a handbag, followed by another mini statement, another comparison with the monthly bank statement, the inevitable scanning of those around her for any signs of an attack and, finally, a third card appears as if by magic.
This card goes into the slot but is rejected. She stamps her feet and tries again. It’s rejected a second time. She turns the card the right way up and it stays in the machine. She now makes a small withdrawal and everyone looks at their watches as we wait for her receipt to pop out. Everyone in the queue is now wondering if she’ll need any other banking services today or if she’ll just fuck off and give the rest of us a go.
She retrieves her receipt, turns, smiles and fucks off. Everyone in the queue gives a loud cheer. They don’t really. I just made that bit up.
My mate’s answering machine
This is the piece of technology that angers me the most and it’s mainly because of the owner. His name is Joe and he is an idiot and a prick. Joe should be put down.
When you call Joe you will hear… “Hi, this is Joe, what can I do for you today?”
There is then a period of silence in which any normal caller, such as me, will start to offer greetings and say why he is calling. About ten seconds or so into this greeting and explanation, Joe’s voice will interrupt and say… “Oh, by the way, did I mention that this is an answering machine? Leave a message and I’ll call you back.” The machine then clicks to recording mode.
Joe constantly catches me, and others, out because he constantly changes his fucking messages.
“Hi, it’s Joe, I was about to call you. What’s happening?”
Silence, during which I start a conversation.
“Sorry, could you leave the rest of your message on the machine after the tone?”
“Hi, Joe speaking.”
Silence, during which I explain who I am and why I’ve called.
“By the way, when I said I was speaking I meant I was speaking into my new answering machine. Leave a short message.”
His latest is really infuriating because it’s so fucking well timed.
“Hi, this is Joe. Who’s calling please.”
Silence, During which I say, “Hi, it’s me, Bill.”
“Really? Good to hear from you. Leave your message and I’ll call you back.”
So which machines do you hate most and why?
The Tea Maker
PS: You can comment on this story by emailing me at [email protected] and I’ll respond to your emails in next week’s column. We’ll never publish your email address.
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The Tea Maker
