Car shopping

The people in my family are characters. Chances are, if you are reading this, you know me personally. If you know me, you likely know my family and can attest to that statement. I don't mean this in a bad way at all. I love my family dearly. The fact that they are all interesting people makes anything I do with them that much more newsworthy.

Today I went car shopping with my folks. I need a new car for a myriad of reasons I will discuss later. My father is pretty much my personal mechanic, thus he knows a ton about cars. For this reason, I would never buy one without his blessing. My mother loves shopping for anything and everything, so she just had to come.

I saw an offer for a brand new 2008 car that I could actually reasonably afford. I found it on a television commercial. The car is fabulous. I just needed the green light from my father, and all would be mine!

We went to the dealership today and talked with the salesman. I basically knew what I wanted, but he went through his salespitch anyway. My mother was insanely excited about every little feature. A jack to plug my ipod into? Side air bags? A cd player that was standard? My mother was ooohing and ahhhing at all of it. Her favourite part of the car is the little bar on the dash that works as an odometer and gas mileage, tire pressure and oil life information centre. When the salesman went over that, she was insanely excited. My father just nodded his head continuously in approval. Don't get me wrong, I was excited about the car as well, but my mother just gets extremely excited over everything. Anything good or somewhat exciting gets my mother acting like a child on Christmas.

After I was sold on the car and had my father's approval, then came the details part. I got to decide on the colour. I was fine with blue or black. Both are equally wonderful, but my mother kept urging me to make a decision. The way she was talking, one would have thought it was a life or death decision.

I ended up with the black one. It's nice to drive a car that I don't have to worry about an imminent breakdown. With my former car, it wasn't a matter of if. It was a matter of when.

Street-by-street pizza tracking?

http://www.informationweek.com/software/showArticle.jhtml?articleID=206102079

In this article, the author writes about how pizza delivery drives at Papa John's are required to carry a GPS-enabled handset that allows customers to track their pizza deliveries street-by-street, in real time. This is an advancement of a similar pizza-tracking service offered by Domino's. The difference is that with Domino's system, it only shows where the pizza is in the store, or if the driver is on his/her way. There is no GPS tracking device.

Customers seem to be enjoying these developments. The article pointed out that there was a surge in online ordering at Papa John's after they unveiled this service.

As a pizza delivery driver myself, this terrifies me. I personally feel this is an invasion of privacy, pushed by big business in order to drive up profits. Should this come to the company that I work for, my boss can expect my resignation. The idea of allowing a customer to see exactly where I am at any particular moment from the time they order a pizza until said pizza arrives at the door is absurd. I do not think it is fair that drivers should be tracked and followed in order to provide the "best service possible" to a customer. What's next? Surveilance cameras and sensors in my car to relay details about my driving on the job to my boss/corporate headquarters? My car is my personal property, and I do not feel the company has any business tracking me.

It would be funny, however, if a customer who is known to not tip should happen to stumble upon this service. By not tipping, a customer basically demands the lowest level of service possible. If I get one of those orders, I joyride for quite awhile. Sometimes I stop at the drive-through for some food. Other times I stop to fill up my gas tank and get coffee and candy. Still other times, I just drive aimlessly. I know quite a few other delivery drivers who do the same. If you don't care enough to tip me, I don't care enough to make sure your food is hot. Plain and simple. The moral of the story? Always tip the driver.

Tracking a pizza alone isn't all that intrusive, but this development lends itself to a slippery slope of further surveilance. That is what terrifies me the most. Should somebody at work need to know where I am at a specific time, I have a cell phone. The number is posted on the bulletin board. Should a customer wish to know when the pizza will arrive, he or she can call. A manager can tell precisely what time I left and approximately when I will arrive. Nobody needs to know what particular street I am on and which route I choose to take.