Servicing yourself isn't for everybody...

If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something.  "Of course I mind -- but ask me anyway."  Are you regular?  "Did you just ask me if I'm regular?"  Yes, because -- "I should slap you.  How dare you ask me if I'm regular!"  Let me -- "What business is it of yours to ask me about my business!"  No, no, let me clarify.  "Go ahead -- but when you clarify, speak very clearly."  What I'm asking is if you self-reflect on a regular basis.  I know I do.   It's a very good habit to get into, I think.  "Now that I reflect on it, how you tolerate your reflection in the mirror, I'll never know.  You're no eye candy."  Anyway, self-reflection allows us the chance to look at ourselves at a deeper level, to analyze our strengths and weakness.  "Oh, okay..."  I know it's worked for me.  "Well, right now I can tell you something's not working for you -- your breath!  Wow..."   Sorry about that -- I'll stand back...  "A little farther... farther..."  Going through the process of self-reflection, I've discovered I have this silly little phobia.  I'm almost embarrassed to talk about it.  "Oh, no phobia's too silly to talk about."  Are you sure?  You won't laugh at me?  "To do that would be cruel and insensitive."  Thank you, I appreciate it.  "I'm never cruel and insensitive -- unless you're a fly or niño del la tierra (potato bug for the monolinguals) and I'm bored, with a pair of tweezers..."  Okay so, getting back to my phobia, self-checkout at the supermarket makes me nervous.  "Say what?"  My heart starts to race, my hands get all clammy... I know, call me weird -- "I'd much prefer other synonyms.  You're afraid of self checkout?!"  Well, yeah, I -- "Excuse me while I guffaw.  Guffaw!  Guffaw!  Guffaw!  What are you, some sort of nut case?! -- that was a rhetorical question, by the way.  How'd you escape?!"  I don't know where it all started, but I just don't like the idea of ringing up my own groceries.  "Why?  What is it about handling your own papayas?"  I don't know, I just have this thing -- "Yeah, your lobotomy, what about it?"  I dread the idea of holding up a long line of cranky people as I try to figure out how to scan and bag my own stuff as I get scolded by a damn machine!  "Damn, I hate it when you say 'damn.'"  Then I have to call for assistance, and I hear the deep sighs... People mutter to themselves as they roll their eyes, waiting and waiting... That's a lot of pressure to put on a guy!  "Speaking of pressure, does the store have anything for bloating?"  I've learned the hard way that self-checkout lines aren't for everybody.  That's one of my shortcomings, I guess.  I have to learn to deal with it.  "So, uh, how do you do it when your car needs gas?  You pump your own gas, don't you?"  Well, you know those people that hang around gas stations begging for money.  "I've met a few hundred of those individuals, yes..."  Isn't it funny how their car always breaks down two blocks away?  "Yeah..."  I give them money, alright -- after they fill my tank and check all my fluids.  "Um, I suggest you go back and reflect on what you just said.  Very, very carefully..."