All I wanted to do was pay my bill.

That’s it. I bought a service. I owed money. I intended to pay.

Remember the old days when you could walk into a place and hand them cash or you could write a check and send it in the mail?

Anymore, you need an advanced computer degree from MIT just to order a hamburger at a fast-food restaurant.

“I’d like to order a…”

“Sir, please, go back to the kiosk you ignored and place your order on the screen.”

“But I just want a…”

“We do not take orders at the counter. Over there. It’s a touchscreen. Simply tap on what you want.”

“But…”

“Sir, what is so difficult? Do you go into a grocery store and expect someone else to ring up your order? No, you do not. You use the self-serve scanner.”

“Not if I can help it. Whenever I use self-checkout, my server is the most surly, cantankerous critter I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Um, in self-checkout, that surly, cantankerous critter would be you.”

“Exactly. And I sure don’t want to put up with myself if you make me use that stupid touchscreen kiosk. So, let me have a burger with extra ketchup. Thank you.”

One other time, I walked out of a restaurant that wouldn’t hand me a menu to peruse.

“Sir, just scan the QR code on the table. A menu will pop up on your phone. Then punch in your order, pay with your Venmo account and we’ll text you when you can come to the window to pick up your order.”

It made more sense to me to go home and slap together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

One of the problems with your tap-the-chip-to-the-screen world is identity theft. Someone swiped my credit card numbers to buy books that would embarrass me. The bank issued a new debit card with different account numbers, and advised me to update my account with creditors.

Simple, right? No.

I logged onto the website like the creditor advised me to do. I entered the info. Then entered the Wait of Death. After hours of watching a spinning wheel and seeing the words “Page loading” multiple times, I got a human on the phone to walk me through the steps.

The steps included downloading an app to my phone to sync with all my other pages.

“Why? I don’t want an app. I don’t want my pages linked or synced. That stinks. Please just let me pay my bill.”

“Sir, we have to do this to confirm your identity.”

“Dude! Listen! If someone, ANYONE, ever wants to pay my bills for me, LET THEM!!! I don’t care if they can’t prove that they’re me. If they want to pay, take the money! Speaking of which, please, PLEASE, LET ME PAY MY BILL!!!”

“I appreciate your concern, sir. Now if you go into settings and click on the pull-down menu, and toggle over to Add Accounts…”

“AAAUUURRRGHHHH! CANCEL MY ORDER!”

“Yes, sir. Please stay on the line to take a short survey on how satisfied you were with today’s service.”

I’m not saying that we should go back to the days of giving Fred two chickens and an apple pie for fixing your tractor. But maybe we should.

I don’t want your apps. I don’t want to be linked or synced. I don’t want to scan codes or enter secret access numbers or take short surveys or to click on anything for a special offer. This may be difficult for you technologically minded kids to understand, but… I only want to pay my bill!

Do you give change for chickens?

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