As a child of the ’60s, my introduction to robots was the limb-flailing “Danger, Will Robinson!” creation of the TV show Lost in Space.

I wanted one.

Flash forward to 2019, and I keep that nosy Siri turned off, don’t want a Roomba sweeping my floors, and somehow manage to type my own texts.

So imagine my horror when Gary and I came across this creature, stalking us during our recent visit to Connecticut.

We were in the Stop & Shop near my parents’ home in Madison. Dad had warned us to watch out for the robot – named Marty – which apparently helps cut down on shoplifting. Yet, a sign at check-out indicated Marty is simply on patrol to keep customers safe from spills and other hazards.

Confused? Well, it took the better part of a week, but I believe Gary and I may have cracked the code, thanks in no small part to our cashier and the store’s never-ending soundtrack.

We’d only been in the store a few minutes when a woman’s voice came over the loudspeaker system:

Clean-up needed in Produce. Clean-up needed in Produce.

Well, I’d left Gary behind in Produce, while I searched for a Flintstones-sized rack of ribs to slow-cook (my Dad had expressed a hankering for such) and wondered if my husband had somehow knocked over a display of Brussel sprouts (we’d just watched a YouTube video about harvesting them, so it would come as no surprise if he’d shown a sudden interest in the little nasties).

A few minutes later, it happened again: Clean-up needed in Produce Aisle. Clean-up needed in Produce Aisle. And again. And yet again. I started to wonder aloud why the lazy thing didn’t just clean up the mess herself.

By then, Gary had joined me and assured me he had nothing to confess (although he did worry that his bad attitude about all-things-electronic had somehow broken the “take a number” machine at the deli counter).

We found out later that the voice was not an apathetic employee, but a recording. It was a robot’s voice, disguised as a living, breathing – albeit lethargic – worker.

MARTY!

Marty, it seems, was on patrol. Watching, watching, ever vigilant.

At one point, I messed with her (while picking out a cake for my brother Bill’s birthday the next day) and she immediately squealed on me. Clean-up needed in Aisle 23. Clean-up in Aisle 23.

A-ha!

“Clean-up” is code for “Suspicious Customer.” I stood resolutely in the heart of Aisle 23 and surveyed the the territory. Nothing had spilled. Not a crumb.

But the case was cracked!

As Gary and I made out way through the check out, the clerk was in on the gag. We noticed she mouthed along with the Marty’s cry for clean-up and grinned at us while admitting it was, indeed, the robot’s call for security.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but at one of our Boston stores, Marty escaped. Somehow she broke through the invisible fence and headed out the door into the parking lot. It was only later, when they finally located her that they realized one of the driver-less trucks they’ve been experimenting with had also escaped. In fact, the truck ran over Marty!”

As a child, I was not a fan of Dr. Smith from Lost In Space. He was known for shouting insults at Robot: Silence you ninny! and Now come along with me, you ludicrous lump, there’s much to be done. Somehow I think, if stranded on a distant planet with a googly-eyed robot named Marty, that would be just the beginning.

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