BACK TO THE QR-TURE

Last week, my wife and I went to see Back to the Future in concert – 40 years after its premiere. Forty years! Sometimes I do feel old.

As the orchestra launched into that epic opening theme and the DeLorean thundered to life, I felt chills – partly from nostalgia, partly from the dawning realisation that humanity has somehow managed to invent AI that writes poetry, but not a single functioning time machine. And frankly, some days, I'd love to travel back – ideally to an era with more human interaction.

The show itself was phenomenal. The live orchestra elevated the whole experience, amplifying every glorious scene with full symphonic drama. Honestly, I think all movies should come with a live orchestra. Even a simple rom-com would feel infinitely more important if a violin section swooned every time the leads awkwardly bump into each other at a café.

Anyway, after this nostalgic cinematic high, we decided to keep the night going with dinner at a nearby British gastro pub.

Upon arrival, a cheerful waiter greeted us, then immediately said the six words that strike terror into any hungry human: “Please scan the QR code to order.” And then – he vanished. Like Marty McFly fading from existence.

Now, I’m not a total dinosaur. I understand Japan’s labour shortages. I get efficiency. I can even tolerate robots that bow. But when I go out to eat, I prefer my human interaction served in person, not downloaded from the cloud.

There was even a glossy printed menu on the table – the kind with pictures, descriptions, prices… everything you’d expect from a menu. Except you weren’t allowed to use it.

Still, we tried to cooperate. So, like an obedient 21st-century citizen, I pulled out my iPhone and dutifully scanned the sacred code. To my pleasant surprise, the App offered an English option – not something that can be taken for granted in Japan. My optimism, however, was short-lived. Because while the main items were indeed in English, the section of recommended dishes was only available in Japanese. Apparently, the system assumes foreigners have no interest in recommendations – or in understanding what they’re eating.

I eventually located one of the dishes we wanted, but there was no button to add it to the cart. None. I zoomed in, zoomed out, swiped left, swiped right, prayed to the spirit of Steve Jobs – nothing. Meanwhile, in my peripheral vision, two waiters stood idly by the bar, chatting away.

After several failed attempts, I surrendered control to my wife, thinking she might have more luck with her Japanese-based Android phone.

Sure enough, on her screen, there were buttons that were ominously missing on mine.

Victory seemed near. She added the first dish. Then the second. Then the third. And just as we were about to review our glorious order – poof! – everything vanished.

Everything vanished. Gone. Just like our faith in technology.

We looked at each other in disbelief. I briefly considered ordering a time machine instead of dinner.

So we started over. Like two archaeologists carefully reconstructing an ancient relic – only hangrier. Unable to find a "Review" button, but determined not to lose everything again, my wife pressed “Send” before we could review the order. We figured it was safer to accidentally order 16 portions of fish and chips than risk another digital disappearance.

We realised that we had just spent fifteen minutes doing something that would ordinarily have taken two minutes.

Ironically, during those same fifteen minutes, the waiting staff continued their lively conversation by the bar. I swear one of them glanced in our direction, probably wondering if we were composing a PhD thesis rather than trying to order fish and chips.

As I took the first bite, I couldn’t help but think back to Back to the Future. Marty McFly went from 1985 to 1955 in a DeLorean. I, however, just wanted to go back to 2010, when you could simply wave to a waiter, say “Two beers, please,” and the transaction would be complete – no QR code, no missing buttons.

Progress is a funny thing. Forty years after Back to the Future, we can watch it in high-definition with live orchestras, but we can’t reliably order dinner without Wi-Fi.

Maybe we don’t need a time machine after all. Just… waiters who actually wait on you.