For months, a large retailer emailed me twice a day, begging me to switch from paper billing to online billing. If only I would go paperless, my hair would grow back rich and thick, my sciatica would go away, my plantar fasciitis would heal itself, my cats would stop shedding, and my chance of heavenly reward would rise. OK, fine. I’ll sign up, just please stop sending me your stupid emails.

So the emails ended; contentment reigned. The paper bill stopped coming. I was saving trees and saving a giant corporation postage each month, plus the cost of paper and envelopes. My hair started to grow a little. It was a win/win situation. Life was good.

About a month later, while paying some bills, it occurred to me that I hadn’t gotten one from the giant retailer, a store whose name is a household word. I’d totally forgotten I had signed up for paperless billing. But how do I get a bill? Where do I send the money? I went online to find out why the company hadn’t sent me a bill by email. My payment was due.

“When were they going to send me a bill?” I asked the woman on the phone.

“You told us to stop the emails, sir.”