Chip (And PIN) On My Shoulder
There’s a guy who works in Morrisons where I live who really pisses me off. I vaguely know him from school (although not really) and I’ve met him a couple of times since, and don’t get me wrong, he’s a really nice guy. When he’s on the till he smiles at the customers, says please and thank you, and even occasionally manages to make conversation. All of which would normally have me writing complimentary letters to the management. But no. Everyone has their annoying habits, and his has me wanting to grab him firmly by the ears and shake vigorously.
Let me back track…
In 2004 I had the pleasure of spending an extended time in Australia (have I mentioned that yet?!) during which time, because I was occasionally working, I had an Australian bank account (with ANZ), which came with a switch-like debit card facility. Very quickly I discovered that when making purchases I would be asked for my PIN, rather than asked to sign anything. This was initially confusing but I got over it. I managed not to get obsessive about who could see my PIN when I was typing it and also managed not to get my account hacked.
Fast forward a year or so, I’m back in the UK and my bank has just introduced chip and pin. This is on a bank account I’ve had since I was 12. That’s a long time. I’ve had the same PIN since then as well, and my bank has always (by way of annoying inserts in my bank statements) preached that this information is sacred. Previously, I’ve only shared this information between me and the hole in the wall I’m huddling against. Suddenly, this is a problem.
Now, I have slightly obsessive tendencies anyway. I don’t mind admitting that. I shred EVERYTHING that has my card number on it, even if several digits are blanked. I no longer use my debit card in one particular bookshop and stationery chain beause they once charged five payments of £7.95 to my card on the same day for no good reason. I got the money back, but it’s the principle. I still shop there, so on reflection I’m only inconveniencing myself with this not very dramatic stance, but that’s what principles are all about. So you get the picture.
Suddeny, I need to find ways of protecting my PIN from prying eyes without putting my hand over it like a seven year old who doesn’t want anyone to copy their spelling test (and yes, I did that too). That would clearly be very uncool and indicate to the person processing the transaction that I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could throw them (they wouldn’t know of course that my year 7 discus record still stands, so potentially that could be quite a long way). It has long been my opinion that supermarket staff etc should avert their eyes elsewhere while the special bit is being done, and for the most part, people do that. But you can have too much of a good thing.
Mr Morrisons (that’s quite clearly not his name but it’ll do) takes this concept to extremes. I place my goods on the belt, he scans and I pack. He presses buttons and announces the total. Warily, I remove the card from my pocket, and hand it to him. He takes it (not forgetting his manners) and slots it into the machine, pressing one further button on the till. Then, while announcing ‘if you’d just like to enter your pin’ he rotates his whole body through a full 180 degrees, as if to demonstrate the extent to which he is not trying to see my PIN. Trying not to wet myself laughing at his theatrical tendencies, I enter it, press enter, cough slightly and say ‘OK’. Before he completes his pirouette and turns to face me.
What is that all about?! Obviously it’s preferable to him standing there gawping at me, but could he not just look out of the window? Or back into the store? After a few hours on the till he must be quite nauseous.
It’s no wonder you never see him on the cigarette counter any more, he’d never stand still…
I had a similar experience this evening. I went out for dinner, and at the end when the waiter brought the card machine over to our table, he put the card in, pressed some buttons, handed me the machine…then proceeded to turn his head round so far I thought I was watching something out of the Exorcist. His body didn’t move. I was a bit scared to say that I’d finished entering my pin in case his head spun off when he turned it back.