Life can be difficult for older people. In particular, advancing
years and technology can be a discomforting mix, as I recently discovered when
trying to teach my 85-year-old father how to use a cash dispenser.
Throughout his life, my lovely dad has always drawn his
money from the local post office and, if paying his bills by cash is not an
option, he has always chosen to write a cheque. Credit and debit cards are alien to him. Alas, all the post offices in
his locality have shut down so he is now compelled to rely on the ‘hole-in-the-wall’
cash machine to get his hands on his money. He asked if I would show him how to use it and I agreed to
accompany him.
The first time, he watched as I carried out the procedure step
by step, while providing a running commentary. On the second occasion – in an attempt
to consolidate his learning – I suggested that he perform the whole operation
himself, while I observed. We chose a quiet moment at the cashpoint located 200
metres from his home.
The process went something like this:
DAD: Am I holding my
card the right way up?
ME: Yes, it’s the
right way up.
DAD: Then why won’t it
fit in the hole?
ME: Because you’re
trying to shove it into the slot where the notes come out; you need to put it
here, where it says ‘INSERT CARD HERE’.
Card inserted, the menu of options appears on the screen.
DAD: Do I put my
4-digit number in now?
ME: No, not yet. You
first need to read the options and decide which one you want.
DAD: But I can’t read
them – I need my specs. (Starts rummaging in his pockets in search of his
reading glasses). OK – I can see it now.
So do I want ‘CASH ONLY’ or ‘CASH WITH RECEIPT’?
ME: Well, do you want
a receipt?
DAD: Oh yes – I always
get a receipt. You can’t trust anybody these days; they’re all trying to rip
you off. I need a receipt to …
ME: So press the ‘CASH
WITH RECEIPT’ button then.
DAD: Where is it now …
let’s see … (Finger hovering over the screen, as if carrying out a subtle
piece of black magic)? Oh, what’s
happened now?
ME: It’s timed you
out. Take your card out and we’ll try again.
DAD: Just my luck to
get an iffy machine!
Dad inserts card again.
DAD: Do I put my
4-digit number in now? It’s 672 …
ME: No, not yet. Push
this button here to say you want cash with a receipt.
Dad pushes said button.
DAD: Can I put my 4-digit
number in now?
ME: Wait a moment.
What does it say on the screen?
DAD: It says … (moves
his face closer to the screen) … ‘DO …YOU…WANT…TO…CHECK…YOUR…BALANCE…BEFORE…WITHDRAWING
… YOUR…CASH?’
ME: Well, do you?
DAD: Why would I want
to do that? I wouldn’t be withdrawing money if I didn’t have it in my bank
account. Me and your mother don’t spend money we haven’t got – unlike this
younger generation who … …
ME: Then press this ‘NO’
button dad.
DAD: Oh, the damn
thing’s timed me out again
By this point, a queue had formed behind us. Their facial
expressions suggested that, after witnessing this odd couple hovering over the
cash dispenser, many of them suspected I was guilty of elderly abuse, trying to
rip off the old fella.
We let those waiting go before us and, about 20 minutes (and
three further attempts) later, my old dad was able to withdraw his £250. He
then proceeded to count it out – note by note – in the midst of passing
shoppers. I think I will need to accompany him a few more times before he gets
the hang of it.
