Page 18 Daily Mail, Tuesday, August 13, 2019
W
hen the invi-
tation arrived
by email, I was
thrilled to bits.
‘You are invit-
ed to the easy Booking
Association’s Annual Ball,’
it read. ‘COnFIRM PASS-
WORD TO RSVP.’
If I ever had a password, I’d
forgotten it, so I clicked on the
arrow button in the box that
asked: ‘FORGOTTen YOUR
PASSWORD?’
Up came a message saying
‘ReGISTeR’. I could remember
my email, so I easily managed to
fill in the first box. I was feeling on
top of things. But then the next
box said ‘PASSWORD’. Under-
neath, in little letters it added,
‘Forgotten Your Password?’, so I
clicked that and was immediately
sent back to the beginning: ‘COn-
FIRM PASSWORD TO RSVP.’
As so often with the internet, I
felt like Alice in Wonderland,
trapped in her rabbit-hole, con-
fronted by any number of
strident and increas-
ingly nonsensical
demands, each lead-
ing on to another
question even
more urgent.
After trying to
work out which of
nine windows
had a traffic
light in them,
and thereby
assuring
them that I
was not a
robot, I was
asked to pro-
vide my grand-
mother’s maiden
name, my postcode,
my passport number
and my favourite football team.
After half an hour, I had managed
to register, and after a further 20
minutes, I was proud to have
successfully replied ‘YeS’ to the
easy Booking Association’s
Annual Ball.
At this point, they asked me if I’d
prefer to collect my ticket, print it
out or have it posted. After
providing them with my date of
birth, my national insurance
number and the name of the Prime
Minister, I clicked on ‘COLLeCT
AT VenUe’. At last, I was nearing
the end!
Then a new question popped
up — or, rather, an old one:
‘PASSWORD?’
It was now so long since I applied
for a new password that I had for-
gotten what it was, so I reluctantly
clicked on ‘FORGOTTen YOUR
PASSWORD?’ and ran through
the whole process again.
So, a fortnight later, I eventually
arrived at the easy Booking
Association’s Annual Ball, feeling
a sense of relief.
In the entrance hall, there
was a sign saying ‘TICKeT
COLLeCTIOn’, so I strode overto the desk with a spring in
my step.
‘name?’ said the man at the
desk.
I told him and he tapped it into
his computer.
‘Postcode? email? Mobile?’
With a sigh, I provided all these
pieces of information, and then
held out my hand for the ticket.
‘Bear with me,’ he said, as he
stared at his screen for two or
three minutes. Then he continued:
‘Place of Birth? national insur-
ance number? house number?
Vehicle registration number?
name of grandmother’s first pet?’
‘GCSe grades? Favourite film?
Ideal dinner party companions in
order of preference? Role played
in first school nativity? hopes for
the future? name of the Queen’s
eldest grandchild? Tip to win the
4.45 at newmarket?’
I must admit that by now I was
beginning to grow a little
impatient. Behind me, a long
queue had been forming. A hun-
dred or more of my fellow guests
were busy searching through
their bags for their
passports, birth
certificates, driving
licences and photo
IDs. Others were
grappling with
mobile printers
and scanners.
At one point,
I overheard
the woman
behind me
say: ‘I’m
worried
that I won’t
be able
remember
the last
prime minister
but three.’
At last, after I
had provided the
maiden name of the
grandmother of my first pet,
the man at the reception desk
handed me my ticket.H
e Then asked me to
look in on the courtesy
desk in the next room.
‘hello there! Welcome
to the easy Booking Association’s
Annual Ball!’ said the lady, with a
smile. ‘And how are you today?’
‘I’m very.. .’ I began, but before I
could finish she said, ‘Bear with
me!’ Then I had to wait while she
stared at her screen.
‘I’m very well,’ I said, when she
finally looked back at me.
‘Very... well.. .’ she typed. ‘And
how do you rate our performance
today in terms of... efficiency?
Friendliness? Service? Good
value? how did we do? We appre-
ciate your feedback!’
‘Well.. .’ I began, ‘I think perhaps
you could cut down on the.. .’
‘Bear with me,’ she said. ‘First,
could I have your password?’
I paused and looked blank.
‘Forgotten your password?’
she continued.Craig
Brown
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/craigbrownArrgh! To RSVP,
I need my ID and
password ASAP!