Day #12: Technology: I Miss Dial-Up.

Can you believe we actually grew up without the internet? Remember when dial up was invented and AOL used to send you those CDs in the mail that would offer you "100 Hours of Free Service" that was so slow you could type in a URL, go for a jog, take a shower, make yourself a sandwich and crack open a beer while you waited for the page to load? Remember that?





I actually had a Mac OS2 that I begged my parents to connect to the internet. They put their foot down, saying "There are too many weirdos using that thing..."





Which is still true, but now they've got broadband, so they can be weirder, faster.





However, I did have some "modern" technologies before my friends. For example, I had a carphone. Ooooh yeah, baby. This sucker was installed in the floor of the passenger seat and had a giant rod shooting up over the gear shifter where the phone was actually located. When you picked up the headset -- which was about the shape, size and weight of a rubber mallet -- you had to really tug to get the thing to make it to your ear, because -- ready for this -- it was connected to the floor by a cord. A black spiral cord that was forever getting twisted up into a giant knot and eventually made it so that I had to lean over the center console and talk while paying attention to the road with only my left eye.





To this day, my love for technology has manifested itself through my need to have the latest status-symbol phone available. I've had the tiny motorolas that called people when I looked in my bag for my keys. I had a Samsung flip phone that actually survived a second-story fall from my balcony. A Razor that was excellent at collecting ear gunk and face sweat.





Now I have an iPhone. And it makes me feel cool. People have all those other smart phones, like Droids and Blackberrys, and they're like "Whatever, its just as good as an iPhone."





Um, no its not, and you know its not, and you're only saying that because you don't have enough money to break your contract with Verizon and become as cool as me.





When I got my iPhone, social interaction ceased immediately. I was too busy downloading crappy free apps that now clutter my homescreen and never get used. The only exception was when someone would say something like, "Oh, who's that guy who was in that movie with that chick..."





And I'd tap tap tap, bam: "Burt Reynolds."





Ha! Can your Droid do that?





That's what I thought...





In my twenties, I could never have imagined just how technologically advanced we'd all become, and I certainly never imagined that I would become a teacher who uses complicated design programs on a daily basis and who runs a computer lab, which (due to insufficient funding to public education) I have to maintain myself. Although, this mostly involves knowing the proper keystrokes to turn the screen right-side-up after my students flip it upside-down and replacing mouseballs.





What is shocking to me, is that despite my decent level of technological skill, I cannot for the life of me operate a debit-card machine without some level of prompting from the customer service "professional" (or, for brevity's sake, CS"P"). You know what I'm talking about. These suckers:

(First: Isn't it great that we can now clog our arteries without a trip to the ATM? God bless America.)

I think the primary problem with me and debit card machines is: Each one is completely different. Why? Why is this neccessary? I'm going to propose a bill in congress called the Debit Card Machine Homoginization Act and I think you should all write to your congresspeople to support said act, because I think you'll thank me later.

Here's why:

So I'm at our local Target, with a cart full of stuff I didn't know I needed until I walked in there, but now I am absolutely positive I cannot live without.

I have withstood a line of people who are buying 500 lbs of dog food and entire new wardrobes for their children. My stuff's been scanned and bagged and now its time to pay. I take out my plastic.

CS"P": Debit or credit?

Me: Debit. (Question: Why does it matter? Doesn't my card have a little chip somewhere inside that communicates this sort of information to the machine? Like, Hey dude! I'm a debit card, so get ready cause you gonna have some numbers punched into you!)

CS"P": Okay, swipe.

I swipe.

Nothing happens.

CS"P": The other way.

I swipe.

CS"P": No, the other way.

I am out of "other ways." There are just only so many options. CS"P" takes my card and does it for me.

I type in my pin.

CS"P": No, wait. Its not ready yet.

We both stare at the machine. Waiting.

CS"P": Okay, now.

I type in my pin. Again.

The machine asks if I want cash back. I say "YES". My options are $20, $40 or $60 or "OTHER". I tap "OTHER."

I enter $30.

I am rejected. Screen says: "YOU MAY ONLY ENTER MULTIPLES OF $20."

CS"P": You can only enter multiples of $20.

Me: I heard that somewhere.

I choose $20.

I then start rifling through my handbag for my walking-to-the-car neccessities: sunglasses, keys, etc.

CS"P": You need to confirm the amount.

Me: Oh! Sorry.

I hit "OK".

I'm back to hunting down my keys.

CS"P": You need to hit "OK."

Me: I did.

CS"P": No, you need to do it again.

I'm now wondering what I'm agreeing to by hitting "OK." I missed the question on the previous screen and now I could be signing up for some 29% interest credit card, or allowing Target to call me during dinner to ask me questions about my last customer service experience, or agreeing to join a I-am-addicted-to-Target 12-step program.

I hit "OK" anyway because at this point, I'm in too deep and there are cranky mothers with small children throwing temper tantrums behind me and those moms are killing me slowly with their eyes.

CS"P" hands me a reciept as long as my arm and thanks me for shopping at Target.

In the future, I would like to be able to hold my phone up to the Debit Card Machine and have it just take care of the whole damn transaction for me. Surely there's an app for that.