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26th May 2012
Lileks feels our pain.
We love the swipe-and-go payment method. The cards have cut down on that bane of the grocery store line: the Checkbook Lady. She’d wait until the last item was bagged before spelunking in her purse for the checkbook; once it was found, she wrote the check with a speed that suggested writer’s block, as if she was searching for le mot juste for the comments field — I know! Groceries! Once this was done, the amount would be entered in the register with the meticulous care of Bob Cratchit working the books under Scrooge’s baleful eye, and then the checkbook would be returned to the cavernous purse before she moved an inch away from the counter. On behalf of everyone: You are why our ice cream has those crystals you get when it melts and refreezes.
I have always hated those people. I want to grab them by the throat and say ‘BITCH, IT’S A NEW CENTURY. GO TO YOUR BANK AND MURMUR THE MAGIC WORDS “DEBIT CARD” AND END OUR NATIONAL NIGHTMARE!” But I never do. Must be my native indolence coming to the fore. Or maybe it’s the restraining order.