Loyalty Card Junkie

 I came across this article that I wrote some years ago and which I find is still relevant. For us "silver-agers", the fast world of internet business is becoming more and more of a mystery.

Anyway, here is the article again, just for fun:

Have you ever added up how many user IDs and passwords you have stored away in your memory – you wouldn’t be writing them down, now would you?  I was thinking about this the other day when I went to a restaurant in a Cork shopping mall and before I knew it, I was handed out a loyalty card with the lure of getting a portion of chips or half a chicken or something for free if I produced the card when I came again. I don’t know when I’ll be back to this restaurant but it bothers me to think of a possible freebie sitting there unused.

 I spend hours registering on loyalty card sites.  First you have to think of a suitable ID.  I suppose the sensible thing to do would be to use the same one for every site, only a friend of mine who happens to be an IT freak  warned me that this makes it easier for hackers to get into all your sites.  Well, I don’t want that.  Not that I think it would do a hacker much good to see how many Real Rewards I have at SuperValu, for instance,  since I’m not sure what to do with them myself.  The biggest problem though is getting the password right.  If I dream up something creative I’m always told that it isn’t very “strong.”  It has to be words and numbers and caps and what-have-you.  By the time I’ve fought through the whole process and registered correctly I’m exhausted and cranky. And there’s a very real possibility that when I want to check into the site again I can’t remember my password exactly and have to go through the “forgotten your password” process in order to get into my account.

Not that I’m against this loyalty card idea.  You can really save money or get yourself a treat.  And I don’t blame the stores and restaurants for trying to secure customers this way.  The small shopkeeper though doesn’t have the money for all this kind of publicity.  The only way they’ll get people coming back is if they provide the service the customer wants and keep the customer happy.  What I like most about small shops is the personal contact.  You see, that’s where big stores miss out and why they suggest that your loyalty card is your best friend.  But I can’t chat to my loyalty card, can’t complain about the weather or find out the latest juicy bit of gossip doing the rounds.  No, I just hand it over along with my laser card to a smiling employee who wouldn’t know me from Adam if she bumped into me five minutes later.

But next time I’m asked if I have a loyalty card and if not would I like one, I know I’m going to say yes please and start the online registration process as soon as I get home.  Don’t want any bargains slipping away now do I? In years to come, will there be a therapy for loyalty card junkies?

Buddy Can You Spare Me A Smile?

I've been travelling. This is not a major thing in itself, I hasten to say, I often travel and this year has seen me make two non-scheduled trips. So, what was different about this time? I think that travelling in the summer months, when tourists are mixing happily with the locals, is different from travelling in November before the Christmas markets start.


What do I mean about travelling being different in November? I'll try and explain. I stayed at a hotel in the heart of Frankfurt. It is very convenient, being near the Zeil, the main shopping area, where you can buy anything you fancy and things you never knew you wanted. I travelled several times on the Underground and on the suburban trains. In summer with lots of excited tourists, it wasn't so obvious  but this time with mainly locals coming and going, I noticed the difference. What struck me most was that people put on what I call their "travel face", that blank look, eyes glazed over, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. I noticed the same thing at the airports. Some people read books or Kindles, others flick through their phones in an attempt to distract themselves until they have to get off the train or their flight is called. Far too many plug in their music and can't hear a thing. All of which is understandable at least in part, but why that grim expression? No one cracks a smile not even if an acquaintance/work colleague sits down beside them - they simply nod acknowledgement and go back to their phone or book or whatever. We are all on the same planet but side by side and not together.

Whenever I visit Frankfurt I plan on making two people smile whether they like it or not. It was hard going this time around. In the end a young man (clearly a foreigner) smiled at me when he held the door of the Kaufhof department store for me. The cashiers resolutely refused to twitch so much as a lip muscle. I bought German bread Bauernbrot, a sort of sourdough loaf which I just love to eat when it is fresh. I asked the guy at the counter if he could slice it for me and he gruffly replied that that wouldn't work because it was too fresh and would crumble. End of conversation. Take it or leave it.

Happy Ending: when I showed up at Security at Frankfurt Airport I was literally the only one there - the flight was half empty, as it turned out, and people were either ahead of me or came later. So here was I with a team of grim-faced Security personnel. In fact, they were joshing each other and having a great time and so we got talking and laughing (who'd have thought it?) and they assured me - and I believe it - that a sense of humour is vital for doing their job.  This encounter gave me a feel-good feeling for the rest of the day.

I think we should have a smile day at least once a week, let's say on Mondays when everyone is feeling a bit grumpy about having to go back to work after the weekend. Let's all try it and see what results we get.

Christmas is on the way

I was in Cork city doing a bit of shopping (a very little bit, I might add) and I can tell you that Christmas is well on its way there. Nearly every shop I passed was full of people checking out jewellery, watches, bed linen, furniture, TV sets and mobile phones. The clothes shops were having a field day and there was hardly room to squeeze past those racks with special pre-Christmas offers.

It was a cold afternoon with bright sunshine - ideal for that festive season feel. I have to admit that I bought a few things on the spur of the moment and didn't buy what I actually came for, which was a pair of walking shoes. But it was all fun. In another few weeks, when Christmas is almost here, it will be a different story for a lot of people. Panic will have set in and wild buying sprees will be the order of the day.

What if? I asked myself as I sidestepped a harassed husband whose wife was trying on dresses and trying to elicit an opinion from him of what suited her best. What if we all calmed down, didn't get distracted by all those advertisements portraying snow covered streets, adorable children, roast turkey with all the trimmings, Santa Claus and his reindeer and a family wreathed in smiles of joy?  What if we said not this year, not like that and set out to relax and enjoy rather than running around and trying to ensure that everyone was having Christmas fun? Just supposing we bought all our food ready to eat from the supermarket instead of basting the turkey, glazing the ham and peeling Brussels sprouts on Christmas morning? What if we just heated it all up while we lazed around drinking mulled wine or champagne and chatting to family and friends? What if we said no presents this Christmas? Instead we'll have some family time, play board games? What if we went to church and sang all those half forgotten Christmas carols?

I, for one, am not brave enough but it is what I genuinely would like to do. Christmas time is family time for me and in all the preparations and fuss leading up to it, I sometimes forget that. But if I tried to implement even a quarter of the suggestions in the above paragraph, I am convinced that,courtesy of my family, I would end up in the International Court of Human Rights or be mentioned dishonourably in an Amnesty International bulletin. So I'll be in the thick of it this year as every year. And I will enjoy it. But a little piece of my heart will be saying ever so softly slow down, take it easy, enjoy the spirit of Christmas without all that glitz.

Fly me to the moon

I was intrigued by an article I read on the BBC's website http://bbc.co.uk/news today which said a married couple is being sought for a proposed voyage to Mars.  Preferably a married couple and preferably middle-aged.  The trip would take around 501 days (not 502 days apparently, hmm..).  The couple should be compatible and feel they could endure a long period of close contact with no possibility of stepping outside for a minute.

When we get married we intend living in close proximity to our husband or wife as the case may be.  We don't however look down the long road ahead of us.  All we see is someone we care about and we live in the moment, which in my view, is the only place to live.  But if someone said this means you're going to be together for 50 years without a break or even 500 days without a break from each other's company, I think most of us would say "whoa-up!" and start to wonder what that would be like.  Or would we?  Maybe it would be better to put a newly wed couple on that spaceship.  By the time they got back to earth they'd have had all those fights and making up which are part and parcel of a young marriage and their relationship would have matured.

For the keen space traveller there is the possibility of getting to within 240 kms of Mars.  Awesome!  Personally I'd rather a week's shopping in New York or London.  As far as I'm concerned Mars can take care of itself without me going up close to admire it.  But then I guess I am non-adventurous (if there is such a term).  Certainly if you want to impress anyone at one of those glamorous cocktail parties to which you are sure to be invited there is no better way than saying, as you sip from your glass of Kir Royal:  "Moi?  Oh I've just come back from a little trip to Mars."

Just Looking

I must be every shop assistant's idea of a shop lifter.  This was borne in upon me yet again last weekend when I went on a browse.  No sooner than I had stopped at the first beauty counter than an assistant appeared out of thin air and honed in on me.
'Can I help you?' she purred.  I told her I was "just looking".  She ignored this feeble statement and with a practised eye noted that I had been looking at face creams.  She picked up a tube of serum guaranteed to iron out even wrinkles you didn't know you had and have you looking younger than you did at 15.  The price tag would have done justice to buying shares in the Waldorf Astoria.   'This is on special offer only this weekend,' she said, holding it out to me enticingly  'Try it.'  I muttered something and moved away but she kept hovering at my side and as soon as I looked at anything on the counter she was there to tell me what great stuff it was.  It was as if she thought I'd pocket something if she didn't keep a sharp lookout. In the end I slunk off without buying anything.  I was even too discouraged to try a sample squirt of one of the new perfumes. 

Of course I should have had more back-bone and kept on browsing, but with a shop assistant keeping a sharp eye on me - or so it seemed to me - I just didn't feel comfortable.  And yet what are all those glass counters for, if not to browse what's on display and maybe buy something that catches your fancy and doesn't bankrupt you?  Half of the fun is window-shopping and in these days of cold austerity it takes longer than usual to decide what you want to buy and what you can afford.  Oh for someone who says "if you need any help let me know" and then goes off and leaves you to it.  Nine times out of ten that's when I make a purchase. On the rare occasions when I really need advice the assistant is usually out of eye-reach attending some glamorous, well heeled customer.  Ah well, that's Murphy's Law, I suppose. 

To be fair, I guess many of these sales ladies are bored.  They've learned all about the products and are dying to impart this information to prospective customers.  The only trouble is that prospective customers like myself prefer to browse in peace and quiet.  Otherwise we take ourselves off to the unmanned counters where we can look all we like. 

The Magic World of Loyalty Cards

I can't say no to loyalty cards.  I never realized this until the other day when I accepted a loyalty card from a restaurant which I know I will never - as in the "never" of everyday parlance - visit again.  The lure of getting a free portion of chips or half a chicken with my next menu proved just too much and before I knew it I had accepted the card and put it in my wallet with all those other loyalty cards.

I spend hours registering on loyalty card sites.  Finding a suitable ID is harder than you think, I always find.  I suppose the easiest thing would be to use the same ID and passport for every site but a friend of mine, who happens to be an IT junkie, told me this makes it easier for a hacker to get into your loyalty sites.  Well, I don't want that.  It sounds nasty, doesn't it, people getting into your loyalty cards?  Not that I think it would do a hacker any good to see how many Real Rewards I have at SuperValu, or points at Debenhams or indeed how much free chicken I am likely to get at that restaurant.  At any rate, by the time I have fought through the whole process of ID-creating, I am exhausted and cranky.  And there's a very real possibility that when I check into the site again, I won't be able to remember my password or ID correctly and I'll have to go through the "forgotten password" process.




It's worth it in the end, of course.  You can really save some money and get yourself a treat.  And I don't blame the stores for trying to ensure that customers come back.   Small shopkeepers don't have the budget, of course.  The only way they get people to come back is by providing a service which the customer wants. What I like most about small shops is the personal contact.  That's where the big stores miss out no matter how pleasant the sales assistant is. I can't chat to my loyalty card, can't complain about the weather or find out what's going on with the neighbours or tell anyone about what my kids are up to.  I just hand over my loyalty card together with my money to a smiling employee who wouldn't know me from Adam if she saw me ten minutes later.


Next time I'm asked if I have a loyalty card and if not would I like one, I know I'm going to say yes please and start the online registration process as soon as I get home.  Don't want any bargains to slip through my fingers,now do I?  In years to come will there be a therapy for loyalty card junkies?