Options

Welcome, choosy reader, as I give you insights into something that's quite simply different here: having options.

We've been here in the US for coming up on 3 years now, and one thing I've learned is that Americans love having options. Everything revolves around customization: do you want the whipped cream on the milkshake? What about garlic and cheese on the fries? Or just the cheese? Or maybe the bacon? Oh, you want a macchiato, is that a traditional macchiato or the crime against humanity for which Starbucks have chosen to co-opt that particular name?

Perhaps the most hilariously daft manifestation of optionality is the fact that I would estimate there are 3-4x more light switches in this country than there actually need to be. At this point, I'm sure you think I've gone bonkers, but here's the array of light switches in our kitchen:

Yes, four switches, giving a grand total of 16 different lighting options, of which, let's face it, you only ever use 2 (everything off, everything on).

This is just wrong. There is no need for this many switches, or this many combinations, and giving me this many options forces me deep into decision-fatigue even before I've finished my breakfast. Just give me a switch; I want the lights on or off.

And this is by no means an unique arrangement: each of our bathrooms here, some of which are big enough to hold only the WC, has at least 2 light switches, and in some cases 4. It was even true in the hotel we stayed at in Redding last week - a small bathroom with no less than 3 light switches in it, most of them placed badly enough that I couldn't work out how to simply turn everything off or on anyway.

Let's face it, America: letting me specify in ever more precise detail what I want is not always helpful. Sometimes I don't know, or I want to be surprised, or I just can't be bothered to tell you. Right, I'm off to tape all those light switches together...