Opinion / Alexis Self
Taking the maki
Although a capitalist society is supposed to endow its citizens with choice, over the past 10 years many British shopping streets have become horizontal inventories of the commercially banal. Lunch has seemingly become a binary selection between a refrigerated sandwich or sushi. The other day, while craving the latter, I visited a popular Asian-inspired food chain with a penchant for bright-pink branding that has several hundred branches in central London.
To be fair, as ubiquitous high street brands go, Itsu is not the worst: the food offers at least the illusion of being both good for you and having been prepared by a human hand. As such, unlike many of its rivals, I haven’t felt much resentment towards its massive presence. However, after wheeling around to pay for my food, I was greeted by a sight more chilling than the wall of fridges I’d just left in my wake. In lieu of human service, there was now a bay of flickering screens tended to by one stressed-out, but at least sentient, individual. The place had an air of frenzy as people jabbed, tutted and waited for assistance.
As I took my own place among their walleyed ranks, I wondered whether I should make a stand by not paying or putting the wrong items through. But I was depressingly au fait with the interface and before I knew it I had been spat out of the production line. I also considered complaining to the token human but they were already engaged in more aggressive screen-jabbing. As I trudged back to the office, robbed of a portion of the day’s screenless activity, I decided that next time I’d exercise some of my capitalistic choice – and get a sandwich instead.