The other night I couldn’t sleep. My unusual bout of insomnia brought on, what I thought at the time, was an amazing revelation. I grabbed my cellphone, which was next to my bed, and typed my wonderful idea so that I wouldn’t forget it when I woke up the next morning. When I woke up, after finally getting a few hours of sleep, I read this amazing revelation I had written down:
“What if, instead of pieces of paper, bills were actually men named Bill who came to your house or business to tell you that you owe somebody money? They would be even more annoying than those singing telegrams. They would knock on your door, and when you answer they would say ‘Hi, I’m Bill.’ Then you would slap yourself in the forehead and think, I should have pretended that I wasn’t home. I guess the only good thing about all of these annoying men named Bill is that you can’t forget to pay one, because then he would just follow you around reminding you all the time. And then if you were late on a bill, Bill would punch you in the stomach once a day until you paid him. Let’s face it he would really enjoy this since he would have a lot of pent up anger from having to follow you around until you pay him. Then mobsters wouldn’t need to threaten to break your knee caps if you don’t pay them back; they would just send a Bill who would punch you in the stomach once a day until you paid him. Only seedy Bills would work for mobsters though. No respectable Bill would want to work for a boss who might put cement on his feet and toss him into a river if you let him down.”
Having Bills instead of bills would cut down on paper (Yay for the environment), and it would eliminate the use of debt collectors. The Bills would act as both notifications of debt and debt collectors. Which would save companies money as well. There is one main problem with this idea though (well probably more than one, but this is the problem I came up with). What if there was a guy named Bill who was not a bill collector, but just an ordinary working Bill. This Bill’s car breaks down, so he knocks on your door to see if he can use your phone to call a tow. When you answer the door, and he says, “Hi, my name’s Bill” you would yell, “I HATE YOU BILL” and slam the door in his face because you would think that he was bill collector. Poor, normal Bill would be stranded on the side of the road without a tow.
Then I realized that this was a really bad idea in general. There wouldn’t be enough Bills for all of the bills in the world. Late night insomnia revelations are not amazing; they are not amazing at all.