When I pushed my driver's license through the window, the woman said "I need another form of ID." I stared blankly at her. "Like a credit card."I feel her pain. Now all we need to do is get over all this hand wringing about people who earn decent amounts of money for sitting in air-conditioned buildings for seven or eight hours a day. Now… back to Atlas Shrugged.
Now, this makes absolutely no sense. The driver's license has my picture on it and everything. If the driver's license is no good, all the credit card would prove is that I had managed to steal Jane Galt's wallet... Now, I am cognizant that it is only by luck that I myself am not trapped in some crap customer service job. Yet still, this makes my blood boil, this insistence that something fairly simple is not merely inconvenient, but actually impossible.
Friday, March 09, 2007
more on banks
It happens all over the world, even (gasp!) in America! Jane Galt relates some similarly infuriating encounters.