Passwords are a health hazard

Passwords. They are the bane of my existence. Everyone wants a password. Why? To make me frustrated? To raise my ire? To make me tear out what is left of my hair? To make me a marketing target? I thought the customer was supposed to be the king. Or maybe it’s just a knee-jerk reaction to what everyone else is doing.

I can understand why banks and credit cards require them. But stores where we go to buy stuff? Why do I need a password to buy some printing paper, or a pizza, or a new shirt? Don’t they want to make the purchase as easy as possible? And why do charities want a password? Don’t they want my money? Who is going to use my name to give money to a church or charity? Do they not want money tainted by givers with weak memory?

Maybe it’s a flu-like disease that is spreading to prepare for the end of the world when a giant magnetic meteorite will erase our memories and shut us out of businesses and banks.

It came to a head the other day when we tried to order some return labels from an online store. To complete the order, we had to give our email address and a password. Password? Why? Anyway, the password that I had carefully written down several years ago didn’t work. When I tried to reset my password, it denied the request saying someone else had our email address. [Yeah, me!] I think I lost ten to twenty hairs on that one.

I took the request to a real store, but again the password didn’t work. I requested a new one but the server was slow and when it came the email from the business was incomplete. More hair loss. Try again. No response. I went off to do some more shopping. When I returned it still hadn’t come through. My server’s problem this time. The clerk took pity on me and agreed to do the necessary and charge me later. Real customer service!

I picked up another item and took it to the cash. This time, without asking me for a password the clerk punched it in. Oh, glory. I was almost home free. But wait, the clerk’s machine wouldn’t operate without a password. So, the clerk motioned for his supervisor who came over and punched in a code—which didn’t work. “Oh,” she said, “Mindy has it. But Mindy is on break. So, try the next cash over.”

The next cash worked and with a great sigh, I was on my way. But if anyone mentions passwords, I think I’ll get hives or just collapse with a massive heart attack. I think someone needs to do a study about the health effects of juggling too many passwords. Fortunately, entrance to heaven requires no password except, “I believe in Jesus as my Saviour.”