Remember how I wrote about ordering the Daily Yomiuri and never paying for it? Well, I’ve been enjoying my free newspaper since January (already three months). Remember how there was a representative that showed up at my door the same day I ordered the paper to locate my mailbox? Well, clearly, they knew where I lived, where my mailbox was, and what I looked like, so they had plenty of chances to ask for my bank account information or send me a bill, but they didn’t and I resigned to the fact that they never would.
Last night, I was watching TV when the doorbell rang. If you’re from Brooklyn you know not to open the door when you’re not expecting anyone. But last night I wasn’t in Brooklyn, I was in Tokyo. I went to the door and looked in the peephole; it was some lady. I asked who it was. She started to answer in Japanese. I thought, “The f…ing Jehovah's Witnesses again.” I had no choice but to open the door since she already knew that I was at home. I opened the door devising a retreat strategy in my head.
To my surprise, the lady handed me a bill for 2,600 yen: “This is your Daily Yomiuri bill."
“Do I have to pay it now?” I asked.
I went to get my wallet thinking, “Couldn’t they send me a bill? They know where my mailbox is.”
I paid the lady, closed the door, and puzzled at the fact that in this IT driven impersonal world of soft money, the Daily Yomiuri still sends someone to collect my hard cash.
Yep, not everything in this country is as advanced as they say.