Early Edition with Kate Hawkesby

Ever tried to buy a pair of shoes online recently? What about a book? Or even book a haircut? You would have been asked a billion questions. It starts with what day and time you want your haircut. Yep, fine, but then they want your; name, address, birthdate, postal address, how did you hear about us? What shampoo do you use? I didn't ask for all that. At this point I'd rather pull my hair out in clumps than sit here and answer all these stupid, irrelevant questions. I've been trying to get paid this week. I realise this is dangerous ground to be treading, I've only been here a week and the people are great but the processes, again, absurd. You'd think they just want my bank account number, IRD number and tax code. No. Every personal detail under the sun - my sex, title, home address, ethnicity. This sent me into a tailspin, why do you need to the colour of my skin to pay me? It's not a legal requirement, and the stupid drop-down box wasn't working. I tried to select European but wouldn't let me. What the hell