My grandparents had a small grocery store. I used to marvel at the mechanical cash register and their adding machine. Both had typewriter type keys and a crank to enter items. The adding machine produced a paper receipt. They had a musical rhythm when being used.
The machines didn't use electricity. Sometimes parts would wear out. When the machines broke they had these little books that made carbon copy store receipts. If you worked the cash, you had to be good at adding. I can't even imagine someone doing that today.
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Me Da, pencil behind his ear, had one very much like the 'Mark Plenning' model...the 2nd cash register pic, at his tiny little grocery store in The Bronx.
The whole place was about the size of our kitchen! People paid rent for the space by the square foot.
He specialized in Irish imports...stuff that immigrants like him missed about The Ol' Cuntree.
I was 5 or 6, and Not allowed to touch the register, though he knew how much I loved the rhythmic clanking, and (of Course) the Bell at the end of the commotion.
There was one tool/toy I was allowed to goof around with,
as long as I didn't pull a 10 lb. bag of wheaten bread flour down off the shelf!
His was a big, heavy, two-handed affair, of course.
I think it used to reach up about 100 feet into the sky...


