We Are Living in the Golden Age of Laziness

There’s a saying: “Netflix and Chill.” It’s when you invite someone over to watch Netflix and then, you know, fiddle with each others’ special parts. Well, I have my own version of this. It’s called “Netflix and Cheese,” and it’s just me sitting around in my underwear, eating fancy cheese and watching my stories. The wildest part is that I don’t even have to get dressed to buy the cheese!

If I’m willing to pay the fees — which is usually only when I’m really hungover — I can use apps like Instacart, TaskRabbit and Postmates to have that chunk of Truffle Tremor delivered right to my door from Rainbow Grocery. And you know I’m not putting on pants to answer the door.

Part of living in San Francisco is that we’ve got the pleasure — earnestly or sarcastically, depending on how you look at it — of being the guinea pigs for all of the new technology-driven services that emerge. We get front-row seats to witness the vagaries of free-market capitalism happen at hyperspeed.

Remember when Uber and Lyft had to compete with Sidecar and Summon? Or when Sprig, Munchery, Spoonrocket and whatever other silly-named companies were all vying to be the one that would deliver freshly made lunch directly to our faces? One of the unexpected outcomes of this most-recent tech boom is that, within just a few years, we’ve gotten remarkably accustomed to having nearly anything we want arrive at our doors at incredible speeds. And while it’s making everything far more convenient, it’s also making us assholes.

I’m not saying the breakdown of patience and courtesy is entirely due to the fact that we can have chimichangas, lube and Q-tips delivered at any hour of the day. But it’s certainly making people more self-centered and weakening our social skills.

I bartend once a week, and one of my roommates owns a bar. A few weeks ago, the two of us and some other friends were sitting around late at night discussing how much ruder people have become: I could be head-down, obviously in the midst of making a drink for a customer, and someone will come right up and start ordering from me as if I’d looked them in the eye and asked what they wanted. Similarly, if I pass someone up because they’re twiddling with their phone, they’ll get cranky that I served a customer who was ready instead of waiting patiently for them to stop taking selfies. Worst of all, people say “please” and “thank you” less than ever before.