Another conspiracy uncovered by Val Thevictorian!
I refuse to pay my bills online. Refuse, I tell you! Because it's not like using real money. Now, I'm not saying that I go out to the backyard and dig up my gold doubloons in their moldy old sock whenever it's time to pay the piper. That would require too much physical labor for sedentary Val. Nor do I have a cash-only policy for purchasing goods and services. But checks and debit cards are still legal tender. And there's nothing wrong with using a credit card sometimes, as long as the balance is paid at the end of the billing cycle. My creditors, however, are of another opinion.
What's with companies demanding that their customers use automatic payment systems? I'll tell you what's with it. They want an excuse to suck money out of your account indefinitely. So you have to jump through hoops to have it stopped when you no longer desire their services. Oh, and possibly so they can drain every last drop of assets from those good-for-nothings who wish to have their cake, eat it, and not pay for it.
These would-be asset-suckers use a myriad of techniques to bully me into automatic payments. I refuse to succumb. It makes no never-mind to me that I am single-handedly deforesting the globe by demanding a return envelope to enclose my check and payment stub. I'm confident that I am leaving a smaller wooden footprint than the creditor, who insists on using oversized billing envelopes and stuffing them with unwanted offers. Note-to-selves, creditors...your billing procedures and legal gobbledygook could be printed on the inside of your envelope if you are such tree-lovers. No need to send a separate page of the statement each month with that info.
The ploy of saving a stamp is lost on me. Considering the price of gas, I get a lot of bang for my 45/100 of a buck. And I am not so OCD that it pains me to stick a stamp on a printed rectangular area that is bigger than that stamp, and protrudes unaesthetically around the edges.
The latest tactic to shame me into paperless billing comes from Sprint. They of the giant, 5.5 by 8.5 inch envelopes. NOW they expect me to rip that sucker open on the dotted lines, trim and fold, turn inside-out, insert and seal, and trust that my spit will keep that sliver of adhesive from coming unstuck during transcontinental trucking. I call their bluff. I will see that bet, and raise them a wait-until-the-absolute-last-minute-possible mailing date. Because I'm passive-aggressive like that. Make me learn origami, and I'll make you lose interest on my early payment.
I don't want online banking. And I don't want online bill payment. No. Just no. That's tempting fate. Hackers. Errors. Identity theft. Nope. Not going to worry my pretty little head about it. I'd sooner haul in eggs and goat-cheese to barter, rather than depend on the innernets for my financial transactions. Sure, I use PayPal. Because it's so darned convenient, and my credit card number does not have to zip willy-nilly through the world wide web, fly-by-night, single-transaction universe. Just so we know where I'm coming from.
Progress for thee. But not for me.