In addition to the obvious drive-through industry (fast food and coffee), there is also the drive-through wild-life sanctuary industry. Between those extremes, I hear that some places have drive-through liquor stores, drive-through registries, even drive-through funeral homes (which is probably one of the most fabulous ideas of all time for those of us who despise the smell of lilies and who tend to giggle at death). I kind of see the drive-through industry as one of those necessities that probably should be expanding.
Apparently, though, my bank does not. With the onslaught on online banking and cyber bill-paying, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Even the juggernauts like Bank of America and Toronto-Dominion Bank are starting to close branches. But, really. Wouldn't banks like to keep their drive-through service going? I mean, if they're worried about customer service and volume, forcing people out of their cars to become foot traffic is not the way to go.
Honestly, this idea fucking sucks.
Oh, sure, the ATM's will still be working. Let's really tempt bandits, thieves, and other malcontents now that anyone using the former-drive-through-now-only-money-dispensing-machine will be out there in the wild, wild west of tarred parking lots just waiting to be robbed. Well, everyone, that is, except for me.
About two years ago my debit card got hacked. This is not a tragedy as I am poor, which means that the culprit probably took one look at my bank account and tried to start a Go-Fund-Me page in my honor. But the hassle of cutting everything up and contacting creditors and getting the bank to clean up the mess became one giant clusterfuck fiasco. So, when the bank issued me a new debit card, I cancelled it and put it through the shredder.
After all, I have checks. I can write myself checks, go cash them at the drive-through, and then I pay cash for everything except bills. This is a win-win because the card will not get hacked again, I won't be a sitting duck at an ATM, and the government cannot possibly trace my spending (unless I use a discount coupon or card linked to my name).
I am at the bank drive-through waiting to cash a check when I see The Sign. The Sign says life will be almost exclusively digital starting in February. My cash, it seems, will no longer be acceptable tender without a pound of flesh and a few ounces of plasma. My new options will be the ATM (nope, no debit card), a mobile app (nope, nothing that important goes into my phone), or online banking (to see my balances, fine, but to put money in and take it out ... no). Of course, there's always face-to-face, until, of course, that goes by the wayside.
I suddenly have a flashback to the one and only time I shopped at Ikea. I waited in a very long line to pay for some toys and a salad spinner, and was told Ikea doesn't accept cash. Oh, one line does, but I wasn't in it. There was no sign declaring it so, but still.
Who the hell doesn't accept real cash anymore?
Then I encountered store cashiers who had not been trained to handle ... wait for it ... cash. It was like a major event as cashiers and managers bustled around at crisis levels. "Quick, for the love of god," they screamed over the loudspeaker, "someone find an employee, anyone at all, even the cleaning crew scrubbing the toilets, please, find someone who knows what to do with a ten dollar bill! Wait, one-zero is ten ... right?????"
I guess starting in February I will have to get out of my car and actually interact with humans face to face, at least until those clerks are replaced by automation and the entire bank vaporizes and goes digital. Until then, I can still enjoy driving through to get a Dunks coffee to take with me to the drive-through safari after I pick up my drive-through beer, which is next door to my drive-through pharmacy that's next to the drive-through funeral home so I can also pay my respects to my dead bank.
Pray for me. I'm willing to bet you can do it at a drive-through church, so it's all good.
