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Woman says 'thank you' to automated checkout

A SHOPPER starved of human contact has given her sincere thanks to a checkout machine for scanning her purchases.

Joanna Kramer was doing a small shop when she absent-mindedly struck up a conversation with the chatty self-checkout, which she now considers a kind of friend.

Kramer said: “After months in lockdown, I was just desperate for any form of human kindness. Even from a machine that feels no emotion and robotically tells you to collect your change.

“It might have been the checkout’s clear and friendly tone. Or maybe because it hadn’t scolded me for putting something unexpected in its bagging area. We just hit it off straight away.

“I was really touched when it gave me some vouchers for 8p off courgettes. In fact I got quite emotional about such a kind and thoughtful gesture.”

Supermarket manager Nikki Hollis said: “We think it’s lovely Joanna has recognised the good work of self-checkout number eight. However it was a bit weird when she started telling it about her ex-boyfriend.”

Kramer now intends to stay in touch with her electronic friend, and admitted that if it asks her if she is over 18 when she tries to buy wine she may ask it out to dinner.

All the worst relatives still coming

ALL your nicest and most generous relatives will not see you at Christmas because of Covid fears while all the worst dickheads are still coming. 

The last 24 hours have seen your mum, your auntie who’s always been so good to you and your fun cousin all pull out, while your semi-estranged father, virulently right-wing uncle and that freeloading bastard cousin have confirmed. 

Helen Archer said: “Thanks Boris, you’ve devised a 100 per cent effective twat filtration system that only lets twats through. 

“Of course mum’s cancelled. She’s a kind, caring person who puts others first. Of course dad’s coming. He’s an anti-mask, anti-vaxx, heavy-drinking, selfish knobhead. 

“And what a surprise, all Uncle Gary’s kids are keeping to their bubbles this year so he’s free. Could this be related to the inevitable Uncle Gary rant about keeping politics off the football pitch while he stuffs pigs in blankets into his gammon face? 

“It’s delightful that cousin Jack’s available. I look forward to being asked if I can score any weed on Christmas Day, as I was last year, while he puts an unopened litre of Southern Comfort into his bag. 

“Cancel Christmas? At this point it’d be a mercy killing.”

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