Not Even FST FFS
I was amazed when I walked into my local Carphone Warehouse outlet in the Parkhead Forge retail park, Glasgow.
They still have at least four CRT telly's above them behind the counter (yep, you read right CRT).
I stood there gawping at what a baldy bastard I looked like on some sort of bulbous 24" (or thereabouts) colour TV screen from the nineties.
The missus did all the talking (switching from one shitty broadband to another) so I never clocked their EPOS and can't comment on that.
I just pointed and stared at the shiny reflective screens. In awe of the flickery glow. I pondered the magic, thinking of the electrons being magnetically aimed, then fired in succession towards the screen, at the speed of light, row after row and how it made the back of my head look like a full on friar tuck.
I also remember it happened to me years ago, walked into the offie's* on Duke Street, stood in the queue staring at the CCTV telly, when I got to the front the lassie had obviously noticed the staring and said "Aye, everybody looks baldy in it, even the wummin. Wit dae ye wan't"**
* Offie's: Shop where you buy booze to take to your home/mates/party
** Translation: "Yes, everyone looks as if they may be going a bit thin on top, including the ladies. Can I get you anything sir"