So, I was at the grocery store with the Atomic Nerds last month, and...
Now, I should preface this with the fact that these people are like family to me. Our interests overlap by enough that I feel comfortable at the Nerd Ranch because all the stuff of life... books, games, magazines, tchotchkes, that sort of thing... could have been transplanted from Roseholme Cottage to New Mexico. The floor plan and the number and size of the critters in the house are the main cues that I'm not still at home.
So anyway, we're at the grocery store and, come checkout time, we head for a human cashier. And this seems weird to me, because I'm a U-Scanner all the way. I expressed my surprise audibly.
Stingray, who is only denied full curmudgeon status on the technicality of age and is therefore a Curmudgeon Webelo or Cadet Curmudgeon or whatever, points out that GroceryCo Inc. hasn't started paying him to be a cashier. As a dues-paying member of the Curmudgeon Ladies' Auxiliary, this is an argument that resonates strongly with me, and demonstrates Stingray's bright future in the Curmudgeon ranks. However, it is outweighed in my personal flow chart by a more significant factor: Introversion.
See, even the most devoted recluse has to eventually leave the house to forage for bacon and toilet paper, and this usually involves going to a grocery store and dealing with people. But now, with the advent of self-checkout, all the excess annoying, itchy human contact can be pared away from the experience, especially if you go early on a weekday when the store's not crowded and there's no line at the self-checkout lanes.
Think of U-Scan as wheelchair ramps for introverts; ADA for the antisocial.