On Dec 21, 2006, at 11:35 AM, Robert Rothenberg wrote:
My favourite hate is when it you go through several menu steps only
to be
told it cannot do what you asked (no £10 notes or it cannot print
receipts),
have it spit out your card and start over again.
My current favorite is the neighborhood gas station that, presumably
for good, fraud-avoiding reasons, has recently implemented a policy
of requiring that you enter your ZIP code when using the automated
credit card payment.
The first time I saw this, a couple of weeks ago, there was no
signage indicating that they're doing this now, nevermind for what
reason[s], so when the question came up my "marketing alert, feed 'em
fake data" reflex kicked in, I put in a dummy value for the question
("90210" or something), and it locked into a 5 minute routine of,
presumably, querying the credit card company, asking if this is the
right ZIP, waiting for the credit card company to mull it over for a
bit, wait for the credit card company to pop off for a coffee /
beer / piss / whatever, get back a response, tell me that ZIP value
is invalid, spend a couple of minutes sitting idly so that I too
could pop off for a coffee / beer / piss / whatever, then go back to
the first screen so that I could start all over again. Lovely.
Last night it did more or less the same thing again, with some fun
variants. For one thing, it was one of the first uncomfortably cold
nights we've had, and I was wearing a thin jacket & gloves. I knew to
feed it the honest data this time, but because of the cold, and
because the UI for these gas stations system seems to be sluggish on
a warm day and grudgingly dragged out of hibernation on cold days,
every keypress is only acknowledged 5-10 seconds later, but if you
know the drill you should be able to just plunge through. Except for
when you make a typo when typing the damned ZIP code. So you reach
for the big, promising, yellow "CANCEL" button. And it responds, with
the same 5 minute do nothing, get your coffee / beer / piss /
whatever break routine, and you get to glare at it bitterly,
shivering all the while, noticing with frustration the pale grey
"Clear" button that presumably is this system's term for "backspace",
and you get your chance to spend several minutes contemplating the
error of your ways, staring at the clouds of your breath, despondently.
I had previously Hated the new automated checkout systems at the
supermarkets: (cons) slow, cumbersome, inflexible, and with a cloying
voice instruction system; (pros) everyone hates them even more, so
there's never a line.
But at least supermarkets are climate-controlled.
--
Chris Devers
