I can read the hours on a restaurant’s door from a quarter mile away.
But I have to strain—reallly strain sometimes—to decipher the figures on a credit card receipt at the end of a meal. (Especially in low light.)
From the puzzled looks I see on the faces of other diners—“Is that $90.38 or $80.83?”—I know I’m not alone.
My local library seems to have the problem licked. Even in this reduced size, I’m sure you can read that I borrowed David Brooks’ “The Social Animal” last Thursday.
So why can’t restaurants and credit card companies do the same?