Behind My Door: I’ve had it!

By Sandra Bernhardt

There have been so many changes in our society. One that is a struggle for me is the amount of work I now do that used to be done by people wearing name badges. At the risk of sounding like an old geezer, I refrain from saying things like “Back in the day,” or “When I was young.” There’s always the danger of my being labeled an old geezer too, and that’s not on my bucket list.

Allow me to explain why I frequently holler, “I’ve had it! “ It doesn’t matter if I’m alone or with someone, I still shout that. 

Of course, when people see me walking alone across a parking lot, arms flailing, lips moving rapidly and sweat dripping off my nose, I’m sure they say, “Look at that old geezer talking to herself!  How sad.”  

Think about the last time you ran a list of errands. My first stop was the grocery store — the place I spend so much time, I should be invited to set up a cot.

When I entered the store, it looked deserted. That scared me, and I backed out the door. Why had it been evacuated? Was there an active shooter? My heart pounded! I thought I should run as fast as I could, but ironically, when my kids ask me to play whiffleball with them, I yell a reminder: “You know I can’t run! If our house is ever on fire, one of you had better find me, or what you’ll find is a pile of ashes!”

With no help from a stock boy, I made it back to my car in 9 seconds flat.

I’m sure my faithful readers already know why supermarkets (and some other stores) have become my enemy territory.  Can you say, “Self–Checking”? Thanks to this so-called technological miracle, I now have frequent panic attacks and a chronic rash.

The previous employees who ran my groceries through were gone. No sounds of busy cash registers. No clerks filling my grocery bags. No checker saying, “Good to see you! Thanks for shopping at our store.” 

Now I tell a machine to “Have a nice day.”  It never answers back. 

I’m reminded of a story I heard some years ago. An elderly woman was waiting in a long line at the post office.  Sympathizing with the woman who had to stand so long, the gentleman behind her said, “Ma’am, if you’re here to buy stamps, there’s a stamp machine right over there.”

“ I know,” she answered, “But a machine won’t ask me how my arthritis is today.”

Human contact is a huge part of health and happiness.

The first time I gave in and was baptized a “self-checker,” I had to wait for a trembling  woman who  was begging for help. She had mistakenly scanned a can of tuna seven times. I felt sorry for her until I scanned  Campbell’s Pea Soup With Ham eight times. I couldn’t stop crying.

When I was a little girl, I recall how a fellow with a huge grin and a warm hello came outside to fill our gas tank, clean our windshield and check our oil. Today, a frail woman weighing 47 pounds and using a walker is left to wrestle with a hose and fill her own tank. The message: DO IT YOURSELF!

It seems to me, relationships between customers and business owners rest on how customers feel about their experience. For instance, I recently walked into a beauty salon, eager and excited to get a new look — something sexy and guaranteed to reel in that special man. Immediately, I was greeted by a “friendly” sign hung in the salon entryway: “I’m a beautician, not a magician.”  How did I feel?  (It’s not nice to write words that might stunt a child’s growth.)

In regard to my new and exciting look, I ended up a ringer for my mother after her perm in 1940. And I’m sure you won’t be shocked to hear that the “special man” I had yearned for moved to the other side of the street when he spied my new “do.”

Going from bad to worse, I’ve recently heard that coming down the pike is the ultimate do-it- ourself plan: The customer rents a chair from the beauty salon and self-cuts.  

One fellow, tired of the extra time and work required to self-check an overflowing cart of groceries, and self-bag them, yelled: “I’VE GOT A JOB!”

Then there’s scanning your photos and making your own copies … At the risk of losing some of my faithful readers, I’ll skip the details. 

So, that’s just a sampling of the reasons I find myself screaming, “I’ve had it! I’m fed up with being told “do it yourself!” 

Frankly, I hope for the day when some places will be required to post a huge sign that reads: THIS IS A DO-IT-YOURSELF STORE.” And I salute business owners who believe in the importance of human contact.

Note:  I acknowledge that some of you prefer self-checking practices. I forgive you. But if you agree with me, and find the “Just Do It Yourself” philosophy both irritating and exhausting, consider me your friend.

For more than 30 years, Fort Atkinson’s Sandra (Sandi) Bernhardt has enjoyed humorous public speaking in Wisconsin and beyond. During her career, she served as a human resources director, as well as a customer service consultant for a healthcare company. Active in the community, Sandy is a graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and the mother of three grown sons.