A small everyday moment that didn’t feel quite right.
At an international airport, I stopped by a vending machine that sells bottled water.
It looked simple enough: just one type of water, lined up in rows behind a glass panel. The payment area, however, was placed quite high on the top-right of the machine.
There was also a paper sign taped below it, roughly at eye level, to explain where to tap a card. The problem was that the sign looked almost like a QR code or a typical tap symbol.
The arrow on the sign was very small, and the large illustration in the middle looked like the actual place to touch. Naturally, I tried tapping on the printed symbol first. Nothing happened.
Only after staring at the machine for a while did I notice a faint, real touch area slightly above the sign. When I tapped there, the machine finally accepted my payment.
The overall flow was also unclear. You were supposed to:
1. Choose a number from a grid of small buttons, even though all bottles were the same water.
2. Tap your card in the hidden touch area.
3. Wait several seconds with no clear feedback.
4. Watch the bottle appear from an unexpected place.
The first time I went through this, each step felt a bit like solving a small puzzle rather than simply buying water.
Later, I came back to buy another bottle and saw an older man doing exactly what I had done: tapping directly on the printed illustration, then staring at the machine, unsure if anything was happening.
I showed him where to tap, how to enter the number, and then we waited together until the machine finally started moving. I could clearly see the same uncertainty I had felt on his face.
The machine worked. But the amount of guessing, waiting, and double-checking felt much higher than it needed to be for something as basic as buying a bottle of water.
- #ux clinic
- #vending machine
- #signage & feedback
- #feedback & status
A small everyday moment that didn’t feel quite right.
At a small in-house coffee shop I visit often, they serve several types of handmade bread that change daily.
They all look delicious — but there’s a catch. The bread is placed between the register and the drink pickup counter.
While you’re waiting in line, you can’t really see what’s available.
You only get a proper look when your turn at the register finally comes. The line is almost always busy.
As soon as you step up to the register, you can feel a subtle pressure from the barista:
> Please decide quickly.
So in practice, it often becomes:
> You reach the front → you see the bread for the first time →
> you pick something in a few seconds, just not to hold the line.
On top of that, the bread names, descriptions, and prices are written in small text, placed behind the bread.
In a moment that already feels rushed, having to lean in and read tiny labels makes choosing even harder.
- #ux clinic
- #café experience
- #decision pressure
- #menu visibility
A small everyday moment that didn’t feel quite right.
At a popular coffee chain, I often find myself in the same small loop. While I’m waiting in line, there’s almost no way to actually read the menu.
There’s no handheld menu card. Nothing clear on the wall in front of the queue.
Sometimes there is a digital screen, but the menu is shown as a looping video that changes every few seconds. So I stand there thinking:
> What do I feel like today?
> What are the options?
…but I can’t really see anything concrete. By the time my turn finally comes, it’s the first moment I can properly look at the menu.
At the same time, I can feel the subtle pressure from the situation:
- A line of people is waiting behind me
- The barista is ready to take my order
- The flow of the queue is clearly important
In that mix of social pressure and time pressure, it becomes very hard to calmly explore options.
Almost every time, I end up going with a safe, familiar choice:
> Okay… I’ll just get the usual.
In cafés where there are many drink types and customizations, choosing can be a big part of the experience.
But in this setup, the “choosing” part quietly gets squeezed out of the design.
- #ux clinic
- #menu visibility
- #decision pressure
- #café experience
I recently had to cancel an electricity service that I had already signed up for as part of a move. The company offered two options for cancellation: phone or chat. The phone line was constantly busy, so I switched to the chat option.
The chat window appeared on the right edge of the screen, in a fairly small area. The agent first asked me to enter my application number, so I went back to the confirmation email, found the number, and typed it in. I expected the process to move forward from there.
Instead, the agent started asking for almost every detail I had already provided at sign-up: my full name, address, phone number, and even the specific plan I had chosen. The plan name wasn’t clearly written in the confirmation email, so I had to rely on my memory and pick what I thought was the right one. At that point, I started to worry:
> If I get this wrong, will the cancellation fail and will I still get billed later?
After I finished answering everything, the chat simply responded with a brief message saying that the cancellation had been accepted. There was no email confirmation. The agent felt like a human operator, but the final confirmation was very light, given how much effort and risk the user carries in this flow.
When I told the agent that I was still worried, they suggested I take a screenshot of the chat as a record. Overall, it felt like the user was doing most of the work and holding most of the uncertainty, inside a UI that looks light and casual.
- #ux clinic
- #customer support
- #cancellation flow
- #confirmation & trust
