ATM: (abbr.) An abbreviation for automated teller machine.
It is the trifecta of disasters.
- First of all, anything that’s automated is only of value if it automates.
When it develops personality quirks and fails to deliver its automation, it is annoying beyond all curses of Job.
- Second, it is a teller.
I don’t need machines lecturing me on my bank account, my balance or charging me fees because I find myself suddenly and haplessly in need of cash. Can there be anything worse than a self-righteous mechanism which knows too much about you?
- And finally, machine.
There are two things I know about machines:
- They can be very helpful.
- They break down often and cease to be helpful.
So even though I am a user of these contraptions from time to time, they have also proven themsevles to be adversarial rather than being advocates for my well-being.
When I was younger, I was convinced I could trick them–to get $20 out of them when I only had $19.42 in my account. At that stage of the game the machines would not offer you $10, assuming that anyone who didn’t have $20 should not be pushing anyone’s buttons.
Being priggish, the machine would never give me $20 for my $19.42. The thought was, “Come back when you have money.”
The problem was, of course, I needed money now–so I could make more money.
The not-so-automated, over-telling, pompous machine … was unsympathetic.
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