Insecure Robot

Provisions piling up in my arms
Clutching cheese
Losing grapes
I, B McF, holder of loyalty card
Spurner of baskets
Arrive at self-checkout
Thus sidestepping the choking terror
Of till small-talk:
"How are you?"
"Would you like a bag?"
Shaking hands
Wallet-dropping perspiration.
I scan my items through
Praying that all goes smoothly
And no assistance is necessary.
I have a bottle of cooking sherry
For emergencies.
The machine beeps:
"Approval needed!"
"All right" I say.
"You're good at scanning things."
Insecure Robot.
I fail to win her over.
"Wait for assistance."
I'm no good at compliments.