How much supermarket staff hate you based on how you've f**ked up at the self-checkout

A CHILD can operate a self-checkout but you’ve messed it up – again. Here’s how much the underpaid staff hate you based on the stupidity of your error.

Buying booze with a security tag on

Buying booze is not an error in itself, but taking it to the self-checkout is. You wait, tapping your foot, for the harried member of staff to come over, pick up your bottle, take it over to the tills where they can remove the tag, bring it back, and authorise your purchase. Why not just go to the manned tills in the first place? You’re a timewasting bastard, as the expression on their face clearly shows.

Scanning an item too many times

Did it take more than a millisecond for the item to register on the screen? Then why not scan it another 12 times, like the impatient little twat you are. Now you have to wait for someone to come and delete the extra 11, and you get quite irritated about it, even though it’s all your fault. Luckily the staff are too polite to show their deep contempt for you.

Can’t find something on the ‘search for item’ screen

You need to weigh this bunch of spring onions, which means finding it first on the screen. But where is it? It’s not there. How frustrating that the supermarket has forgotten to add it. You make a snarky comment to the staff about it, before they gently explain you should be looking at the ‘salad’ section and not the ‘root vegetable’ section. They think you are a moron, but unfortunately cannot tell you.

Losing a barcode sticker

As you dawdled dumbly round the shop chucking stuff in your basket, you didn’t notice that the sticky barcode label had fallen off that red pepper. It’s not searchable on the checkout screen, so you send the staff member on a long walk back to the veg aisle to fetch you another. They probably lick it on the way back, to teach you a lesson for being a bellend.

Unexpected item in the bagging area

How many times have you used a self-checkout by now? Thousands. How aware are you of the fact that if you put your rucksack in the bagging area, you’re going to f**k it up? Very aware indeed. And yet you still do it, and then get shirty because of the inconvenience of waiting 30 seconds for someone to come and sort it out. The staff f**king hate you for this, and you deserve it.

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Fireworks as popular as ever with people least suitable to buy them

FIREWORKS are once again being snapped up by the sorts of people least suited to using them.

Teenagers, morons and adults planning to set them off while incredibly drunk are all going to their local firework-selling establishment and stocking up.

Jack Browne, 18, said: “Isn’t it mad that you can go to a dodgy shop and legally buy a f**kload of explosives? And by ‘mad’ I mean ‘brilliant’.

“You wouldn’t let a twat like me buy a lump of Semtex over the counter, but in the right circumstances these have got just as much maiming power. It’s not even bonfire night and I’ve got more gunpowder than a box of shotgun shells under my arm. While smoking a fag.

“Every autumn people moan there should only be official displays and yet the law never changes. Long may it last. Well, at least as long as I’m interested in letting rockets off down quiet residential streets and scaring the shit out of old people and animals.”

Oliver O’Connor, 39, said: “My mates love my annual fireworks party. They look forward to getting hammered in my kitchen before stumbling outside to watch me hamfistedly set off 30 fireworks from a four-metre-square back yard.

“Is it dangerous? Yeah, I‘ve almost blown my face off by returning to a misfiring catherine wheel. But it’s a great British tradition and that trumps everything else. If someone loses an eye it’s like Nelson.”