The older woman at the self-checkout at the grocery is having a little bit of trouble with the concept. She puts the bananas on the scale, touches the screen, then examines the whole contraption skeptically as the machine waits impassively for her to do what she is supposed do next.
She shrugs in exasperation, clearly fed up, until a burly, bald guy in a store uniform steps up behind her and gently asks if he can be of assistance. Relief floods her face as he touches a button, and the machine stiffly informs her to please place her bananas, in the bag.
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