The Great Supermarket Self-Checkout Standoff

I went into the supermarket yesterday for milk, bananas and something for tea. Three things. A perfectly manageable mission.

Forty minutes later, I was standing at the self-checkout with a basket containing eleven items, none of which explained why I’d forgotten the milk.

It started with the reduced shelf.

I don’t know what happens to my brain when I see a yellow sticker, but suddenly I’m negotiating with myself like an auctioneer.

“Half-price hummus? Excellent!”

Do I need hummus? No. Have I ever finished a whole tub before it developed a personality of its own? Also no.

Into the basket it went.

Then I spotted Christmas wrapping paper. It’s November, which means the shops have apparently decided we’re all running dangerously late for Christmas.

I bought two rolls because they were pretty.

Never mind that I’ve still got enough wrapping paper at home to gift-wrap a small bungalow.

By the time I reached the checkout, I’d also acquired a scented candle, fancy crackers and a packet of biscuits that looked emotionally supportive.

Then the machine spoke.

“Unexpected item in bagging area.”

It was a banana.

A completely ordinary banana, apparently attempting to enter the supermarket’s security system under a false identity.

I moved it.

“Please wait for assistance.”

The assistant arrived, pressed approximately three buttons and restored peace to the kingdom.

I thanked her, scanned my biscuits and immediately triggered another alert.

She returned.

We exchanged the sort of look usually reserved for people who’ve survived a minor natural disaster together.

Eventually, I escaped into the car park feeling disproportionately victorious.

That’s when I remembered the milk.

I considered going back inside, but the thought of facing that machine again was unbearable. So I went home, made a cup of tea with the last splash in the carton and ate three biscuits while contemplating my choices.

The candle smells lovely, though.

And perhaps that’s the lesson. Sometimes you can leave the house with a sensible plan, make seventeen completely unrelated decisions and still find something worth enjoying.

Although next time, I’m writing the shopping list on my hand.

What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve brought home from the shops while forgetting the one thing you actually went in for?