I hate paper. I hate paper bills, paper drafts, paper notes, paper anything. I hated writing until I learned wordprocessing (on an Osborne using WordStar).
I love the net.
And I, um, kinda like having security.
I am not a security activist. Nor am I a privacy activist. I really could give a rat’s ass if the FBI, Jerry Falwell, Martha Stewart or all of my neighbors and every telemarketer in the world can get a list of every website I’ve ever visited, every porn subscription I’ve ever made, and every Ebay purchase I’ve ever regretted. Why? Because In Real Life you can see where my shopping bags are from, or what porn palace I’m emerging from, or what newspaper I subscribe to. I have enough of a brain to recognize that in exchange for the enormous convenience of using credit cards, the credit card company will have a list of every purchase I’ve made. And I’m OK with that, just as I would’ve been OK for Altman’s to have a list of everything I bought on account, had I been around (a) in the days Altman’s existed and (b) they had charge accounts.
Security and privacy are nice, but neither outweighs convenience. Otherwise I’d cut my credit cards up and use cash. So, goddamnit, make your security easy for me. I don’t car how goddamn complicated that makes it for you. In particular:
Do not issue me a pin number and expect me to remember it. In each case, I create my own pin number thankyouverymuchgoodbye. I don’t care if that means you get a little less security, because I may use the same security code on every account and that makes it easy for someone to steal/guess what I use. That’s my choice. Deal.
Do not expect me to divine how your company keeps my address in your records. Remember, I’m using the net because I fucking hate paper. That means that statements go from my hands into the trash as soon as I’ve made a payment. I don’t sit around hanging on to them. Which means I have no idea which of the 35 possible variations on my address you might be using. If you do insist on something that retarded, your system had better goddam recognize every variation. If I live at the corner of 5th Avenue and 18th Street I better be able to fucking enter any possible permutation of 1/One, W/West, 18/18th/Eighteenth, and St/Street, and get my information. (After I spent half-an-hour on the website and the phone, a long-suffering Continental Airlines employee explained to me that they couldn’t add my corporate Amex card to my list of payment methods because I didn’t enter precisely the billing address, down to the presence or absence of commas. RETARDS. It’s a corporate card, I don’t get the fucking statement in the first place.)
Oh, that means more data entry hours. Boo fucking hoo.
Grrr.