The milk man and I work in opposite ways. The latest craze is that we wants me to get onto the Internet. No more rolled-up notes with changed orders in the bottle outside the door, just a simple click on a convenient web site. No more cheques, just online credit card payments.
You know me. There is hardly anything that I never bought or booked over the Internet, so why should I be so reluctant to follow the milk man’s latest plan?
First, there is the small difficulty of living in no milk man’s land: the guy to whose territory we belong doesn’t want to service us, because we are on the edge of his territory and he’d have to make a long way round the block to avoid going against the one way system (He could walk five steps but I guess he can’t be bothered, so he doesn’t deserve our business). The other guy services us because he comes down the one-way system anyway, even if we are outside his area. Reluctantly, and after lengthy negotiations between the two milk men.
The web site does, of course, not know of these arrangements. I’d rather not disturb a perfectly working system.
Second, and foremost, is that I really enjoy having the milk delivered in the old ways. I enjoy it as one of the few remaining low-tech delights of daily life. I enjoy the milk float coming down the road, the re-usable glass milk bottle on the door step, the aluminium cap, even the hand-written notices of changes to the order.
Maybe the milk man even thinks me technophobic. Yes, I’d be delighted by that.