Card swipe HELL
I took a stroll a few nights ago and ended up in One Eyed Jacks, it is quite a cool bar and the locals are friendly.
One of the girls working the bar has the most amazing relationship with the card swipe machine; she seems to be waging a personal battle of wits with this simple interface to the worlds credit conveyance system.
I observed for some time with great amusement as the machine, in its totally impersonal way rejected multiple attempts to get an appropriate response such that the transaction could be processed.
The first attempt was a casual business like approach where the card is summarily swiped at no particular speed angle or with what seemed to be nonchalance as the other hand searches for the next order placed at the bar.
As the machine fails to respond appropriately a fierce glance of distain is aimed at this humble embodiment of the interface to the biggest financial mechanism ever created.
The card reader who from its pathetic appearance could not be assessed as being capable of the treachery that it was to later exacted on the efforts of its advisory.
The second and third attempt attempts proceeded as follows.
Two rapid swipes from the same position as before, the order that had followed the beginning of this onslaught was being processed by the remaining side of the brain that was attempting to maintain sanity, a persona of quiet calm and efficiency.
The incandescent screen flickers momentarily and I notice an air of excitement in the face of the operator but alas short lived, the screen dims again to its dormant state and a barely audible muffled beep oozes from the machine.
The card is thrust to the work top on the left of the machine and a scowl of some proportion etches itself across an otherwise pretty face. I detect hatred toward the machine but as the face turns to the customer the scowl melts at a rate proportional to the angular momentum and by the time the customer is aware they are being addressed there is no sign of any frustration.
The customer is assured that the machine has a mind of its own but not to worry a further approach should work.
The order is served and in a flash the machine is approached again though this time from a very different position. Standing over this little plastic box with its crudely cut slot and pathetic key pad below its evil dimly glowing eye, a detrmined figure swears it is in for it this time.
Taking a similar position to a cat bearing down over a mouse who has sustained several piercing attacks the card is swiped deliberately and at a very even pace whilst the operator peers with sniper like concentration into the single square eye of the worlds credit union. TUT! as the reader totally ignores the approach, swipe, swipe . SWIPE.
The screen flickers then goes dim again. Pure hatred shows signs of appearance on the pretty face of the operator but then subsides, rationality seems to be fighting its corner but then as if from nowhere a furious swiping fit that only makes the machine laugh in its internal mechanisms and further dim its screen.
The card is thrown down as another cash order is processed with drinks being made up and distributed wit great skill and pleasantry.
As soon as the last drink is handed over, the till addressed, monies deposited, the girl spins on her feet and once again attacks the machine, this time however with a different strategy.
The card is wiped several times and inspected for cleanliness then at a very slow rate drawn through the machine, the screen sparks into life with a now cheerful yellow glow, a healthy beep is heard and with a glance over the shoulder the customer assured by a broad smile that things where now going well. Turning back to the machine the value of the transaction or some other data is entered.
Unfortunately the machines keypad is a little old and the third key pressed sticks in rendering all subsequent key presses useless. An error message is issued and the machine resumes its dormant state dimming its screen. The card gets slammed to the work top, picked up again, buttons pressed repeatedly with great fury until they pop up again and the process needs to be restarted.
At this point something has to happen, the body stiffens and hesitates as the mind searches for the strength not to rip the infernal thing of the work top and jump on it.
Happily, humour takes over and the rejected card is presented back to the customer apologetically.
A wallet is produced with ample cash to settle the bill.
The smile that followed hid the fact that if an oozy had been available there would have been a massacre.
The machine bussed silently and dimmed its screen, content in victory.
Artistic licence applied.
I took a stroll a few nights ago and ended up in One Eyed Jacks, it is quite a cool bar and the locals are friendly.
One of the girls working the bar has the most amazing relationship with the card swipe machine; she seems to be waging a personal battle of wits with this simple interface to the worlds credit conveyance system.
I observed for some time with great amusement as the machine, in its totally impersonal way rejected multiple attempts to get an appropriate response such that the transaction could be processed.
The first attempt was a casual business like approach where the card is summarily swiped at no particular speed angle or with what seemed to be nonchalance as the other hand searches for the next order placed at the bar.
As the machine fails to respond appropriately a fierce glance of distain is aimed at this humble embodiment of the interface to the biggest financial mechanism ever created.
The card reader who from its pathetic appearance could not be assessed as being capable of the treachery that it was to later exacted on the efforts of its advisory.
The second and third attempt attempts proceeded as follows.
Two rapid swipes from the same position as before, the order that had followed the beginning of this onslaught was being processed by the remaining side of the brain that was attempting to maintain sanity, a persona of quiet calm and efficiency.
The incandescent screen flickers momentarily and I notice an air of excitement in the face of the operator but alas short lived, the screen dims again to its dormant state and a barely audible muffled beep oozes from the machine.
The card is thrust to the work top on the left of the machine and a scowl of some proportion etches itself across an otherwise pretty face. I detect hatred toward the machine but as the face turns to the customer the scowl melts at a rate proportional to the angular momentum and by the time the customer is aware they are being addressed there is no sign of any frustration.
The customer is assured that the machine has a mind of its own but not to worry a further approach should work.
The order is served and in a flash the machine is approached again though this time from a very different position. Standing over this little plastic box with its crudely cut slot and pathetic key pad below its evil dimly glowing eye, a detrmined figure swears it is in for it this time.
Taking a similar position to a cat bearing down over a mouse who has sustained several piercing attacks the card is swiped deliberately and at a very even pace whilst the operator peers with sniper like concentration into the single square eye of the worlds credit union. TUT! as the reader totally ignores the approach, swipe, swipe . SWIPE.
The screen flickers then goes dim again. Pure hatred shows signs of appearance on the pretty face of the operator but then subsides, rationality seems to be fighting its corner but then as if from nowhere a furious swiping fit that only makes the machine laugh in its internal mechanisms and further dim its screen.
The card is thrown down as another cash order is processed with drinks being made up and distributed wit great skill and pleasantry.
As soon as the last drink is handed over, the till addressed, monies deposited, the girl spins on her feet and once again attacks the machine, this time however with a different strategy.
The card is wiped several times and inspected for cleanliness then at a very slow rate drawn through the machine, the screen sparks into life with a now cheerful yellow glow, a healthy beep is heard and with a glance over the shoulder the customer assured by a broad smile that things where now going well. Turning back to the machine the value of the transaction or some other data is entered.
Unfortunately the machines keypad is a little old and the third key pressed sticks in rendering all subsequent key presses useless. An error message is issued and the machine resumes its dormant state dimming its screen. The card gets slammed to the work top, picked up again, buttons pressed repeatedly with great fury until they pop up again and the process needs to be restarted.
At this point something has to happen, the body stiffens and hesitates as the mind searches for the strength not to rip the infernal thing of the work top and jump on it.
Happily, humour takes over and the rejected card is presented back to the customer apologetically.
A wallet is produced with ample cash to settle the bill.
The smile that followed hid the fact that if an oozy had been available there would have been a massacre.
The machine bussed silently and dimmed its screen, content in victory.
Artistic licence applied.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Also loved the ode to machine supremacy^^