I went to the post office in Sun City today to mail a copy of my book to a friend in Wisconsin. There was a long line of people, most of them elderly, waiting for their turn to approach one of the two employees at the windows so they could get their packages and letters weighed, stamped, and mailed.

A perky little old lady, who might have been in her late seventies or early eighties, walked in, looked at the line, and then asked the last person in line (me), “Do I take a number?”

I chuckled and assured her, “No, you don’t take a number. Just join the line.”

“They used to have you take a number.”

“Yeah, and they used to have benches for us to sit on while we waited to be helped.” I sighed as I remembered how much more friendly the old post office used to be. “That’s all changed,” I told her. “I think they want to discourage people from coming in to the post office. They’d rather we take care of things on line, or at the automated postal machine.” I pointed toward the fancy computerized stand in the outer lobby. So, we all settled back and accepted the long wait.

But I began to think of other so-called services that have gone the way of the U. S. Postal Service. For instance, in every monthly utility bill I receive, there is an insert admonishing me to save paper and pay my bill on line rather than receive a paper bill. I fully expect that one of these days the electric company and city water supplier will not give me a choice, and they’ll force me to pay my utility bills from my computer.

We’ve come a long way from the “good old days” when my Grandma Blevins, and even my mother, would walk downtown each month to the water company or the telephone office to pay their utility bills and gossip with the folks behind the counter. Today, there’s no way I could even find the water company or the telephone office, because I think some of my utility bills are actually sent from California!

And how about the things I see advertised on television that I’d love to have––a device that would relieve my backache, a cream that is guaranteed to remove my facial wrinkles, and a pair of magnifying glasses to help me read fine print. The only way to purchase those things is to do so on line. You have to go to a website, give them all sorts of personal information, including a bank card number, pay an enormous shipping and handling fee, and then wait weeks for the product to arrive. Gone are the days when you can go to a store in a nearby shopping mall and buy the product.

My reluctance to pay bills or buy products on line stems from a fear of having my identity stolen, or that my bank account might be compromised. There are too many computer hackers out there, and it is getting more and more difficult to stay safe and secure.

Nevertheless, soon we’ll have no choice, because one of these days customer service will be as scarce as hen’s teeth . . . and post office employees.