As faithful readers might know, I visit fast food joints a little too often. Not a good habit, I know, but it’s gotten me this far. It’s like when the cigar-smoking comedian George Burns died. My friend said, “I always knew those cigars would kill him.” As I kindly reminded him, Mr. Burns was 100 years old.
Anyway, on my most recent visit to a burger palace, the young assistant manager was in a quandary. After she entered my order into the system, I handed her a gift card (my family knows what I like). Apparently this was a rare occurrence. She stared at it, studied it for a moment, and swiped it through the card reader on her keyboard. Nothing happened. She would re-swipe it a few times, switching the card around, and turning it upside down with no success.
Finally she handed it back to me, informing me the manager was “on break,” and said, “I can’t get this gift card to work. I know you probably don’t have any cash, so I’m just gonna comp your meal.”
I said, “Well, I usually carry a 20-dollar bill, let me check.” She said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s too much trouble to open the register, and then figure out the change, and all that stuff. So it’s a free meal.”
I enjoyed my free burger, and reminisced about my childhood chores at the family general store. If my dad had ever heard me tell a customer, “Ah, just forget about paying for this stuff. It’s too much trouble to open the register and figure out the change,” he would have fired me. As a son. I’d be that 10-year-old on the open road.
So as the commercials say, “What’s in YOUR wallet?” If you’re like most Americans, not nearly as much cash as in the past. I haven’t gone completely cashless, but I’m close.
Here is the scary part. Those credit cards that were so hip, cool and fashionable in my youth are quickly going the way of beepers, fax machines, and yes, even ATMs.
I asked some of my young co-workers what they carry in their wallets. They quickly replied, “That question is SO dated!” While I was busy reading newspapers and watching network TV, those crazy kids were abandoning old-timey leather accessories, and moving their money to their phones. It’s worldwide. A British newspaper describes cash as “currency only among prisoners and panhandlers.”
Certainly I am quite dependent on my 6-year-old device, which I call an “iPhone 13 minus 8,” but I have not yet signed over my estate to it.
I first dipped my toes into the cashless stream a few years ago when a friend offered to buy one of my books using “Venmo.” I told him I preferred actual money, and after he stopped laughing he helped me link my bank account to this Venmo thing. I was afraid it was like Bitcoin and the other cryptocurrencies of which I have no knowledge or interest.
I have since used Venmo to buy and sell, although I have not yet used similar services like Zelle, Cash App, Google Pay, Apple Cash, Hacky Sack, and Fro Yo. (I may have made some of those up. Or did I?)
I am also “that guy” who holds up the line at a busy outdoor market. The tech wizards in front of me put their items on the counter, aim their phone at the contactless reader, confirm their Apple payment with a fingerprint or face ID, and go on their merry way. Meanwhile, I fumble around for a credit card, and make several unsuccessful attempts at scanning or swiping while the impatient people behind me roll their eyes.
Whenever some 21st century type tries to convince me to go completely cashless (and cardless), I counter with, “What if I lose my phone?” “No worries,” they say. “All of your info is in the cloud.” That is supposed to reassure me.
They swear this is more secure than carrying cash or cards. Slowly but surely I’m getting there. And when I make it, you can call me Johnny Cashless.
Try presenting a check to an 18 year old clerk and watch their facial expression.