Why Is Every Product Is Now A Subscription?

I have spent the last few weeks trying to cancel ridiculous subscriptions I didn't even realise I had. At this point, I am fairly certain I am financially supporting half the internet.

It starts innocently enough.

You buy something online. A program. An app. A service. A thing that promises to organise your life, improve your photos, teach you Italian, make you fitter, thinner, smarter or somehow transform you into a better version of yourself (and I’ve tried them all!)

You click "Buy Now." What you don't realise is you've actually entered into a lifelong financial relationship with some fucker that you can’t get in touch with!

Nothing belongs to you anymore. You don't buy software, music or television. You rent it. Soon I'll be subscribing to socks. For just $14.99 a month, a fresh pair will arrive at your door along with a motivational quote and a reminder that cancelling requires a court order.

The best part is trying to leave. It takes days to track down an email address. Signing up takes approximately six seconds! Cancelling requires the determination of a hostage negotiator.

The button is never where you think it should be. If there is one at all! You click Account. Not there. Settings. Not there. Billing. Still not there. Eventually you're directed to a page that says: "We're sorry to see you go, but your next giraffe is already in the mail, so you'll need to pay for that one first."

No, you're not. If you were sorry, you'd let me leave.

Instead, I'm forced to answer seventeen questions about why I want to cancel. The truth is because I have absolutely no idea who you are and I’ve got 16 bottles of lymph node stuff already! Apparently six months ago I thought your service would change my life. Today I can't even remember what it does, or it was just more crap that didn’t work.

The internet has become a giant collection of tiny monthly payments quietly draining our bank accounts while we sleep.

Five dollars here. Ten dollars there. Seven dollars somewhere else. Before long you're spending enough each month to adopt a small horse.

These days I think the safest approach is simple. If someone offers me a free trial, I run. If someone wants my bank details, I become suspicious. And if something promises to change my life for only $9.99, I immediately start looking for the words "per month" hidden somewhere in microscopic writing at the bottom of the page. I assume it's about to become another subscription I'll spend three weeks trying to cancel.

Because if experience has taught me anything, it's that the internet isn't trying to change my life. It's trying to bill me for it!

Ahhhh - For my next blog, I was thinking: 

How To Stay Away From The Light

A practical guide for people who have had enough medical procedures to qualify as frequent flyers.  :)