(Walks to the mic, adjusts the stand, looks around the room)

So, I went to the grocery store yesterday. You know the drill. You walk in, you see the self-checkout lanes. And you think, "Oh, this is going to be efficient. I'm going to scan my own stuff. I'm going to be my own cashier. I'm going to be the boss."

And then the machine looks at you like it's the warden and you're the inmate.

I put my groceries on the belt. One bag of apples. A loaf of bread. A bottle of ketchup. That's it. I hit the "Start" button. It beeps. I pick up the apples. I put them in the bag. I put the bread in. I put the ketchup in.

Then it stops.

A voice comes out of the speaker. It's a really pleasant, synthetic voice. It says, "Unexpected item in bagging area."

I stand there. I look at the scale. I look at the bag. I look at the camera. I say, "There is no unexpected item. I just put a bag of apples in a bag."

The machine doesn't care. The machine is offended. It starts flashing a red light. It's like, "I know what you did. I know you're trying to cheat me."

So, you have to call an employee. You press the button. And you wait.

You wait. You stare at the screen. The screen is just a picture of a smiling lady holding a basket of vegetables. She looks very happy to be working there. She knows something you don't. She knows that you are not going to get out of this store in five minutes.

Finally, a person walks over. They don't look at you. They look at the machine. They look at the bag. They say, "Did you put the bag of apples in the bag?"

I say, "Yes."

They say, "Okay."

They press a button on their keypad. The machine beeps. The light turns green. I can leave.

I walk out to the car, and I realize something. We aren't the customers anymore. We are the unpaid labor force. We are the ones training the robot. Every time I put an apple in the bag, I'm telling the computer, "Yes, apples go in bags. Yes, bread goes in bags."

And the computer is learning faster than I am.

I got in my car. I drove home. I put my groceries in the fridge. I sat down on the couch. I realized I was tired. Not because I walked. Not because I carried the bags. But because I had to prove to a plastic box that I was capable of following the rules.

And the worst part? I'm going back tomorrow. Because I don't want to wait in line. I just want to get the ketchup.

(Shrugs)

I'm just going to pay the tax on my own dignity.

(Walks off stage)