Hello, my name is … SCOT94.


After the gym tonight, I stopped off at the grocery. My timing coincided with that of everyone who was swinging by the grocery on their ways home from work.

So I decided to go through the "self-checkout" line, since I had only a small amount of groceries. I'm generally leery of self-checkouts, since they rely on pressure-sensitive plates to determine whether you've actually bagged your groceries. As someone who lives in an apartment, up a flight of staris, I prefer as few bags of groceries as possible. So I cram everything into one bag, which messes with the pressure-sensitive device. Anyhow. I went through it, with only one hitch, and walked out to my car.

Something compelled me to read my receipt, and I noticed the fourth line reads: "Hello. I'm SCOT94."

My grocery check-out machine not only completed a transaction with me, but it had a name.

Anthropomorphism has gone too far.