My Name? Uh...Timmy.

Dangerous Intersection has an interesting post about the slow disintegration of anonymity in our busy high-tech culture.

Specifically, it's about the irritation of having to give your name to accomplish all kinds of not-really-name-needing business. The incident in the story here is that the author asked for a price on something in a store (I'm assuming maybe an art gallery or jewelry store or something where prices are too uncouth to be listed, and high enough to make it worth keeping track of who wants them), and the salesperson stated that she needed a name in order to reveal it.

I've never had this happen to me, but I have been faintly annoyed to be asked for my ZIP* code when making purchases in stores.

"What's it to you?" I think.

I usually give a false one, like from the town where I was born (that'll throw 'em off).

If I'm paying by credit card, which I almost always am, they can look it up for themselves if they have to have it.

And, in fact, at the self-check-out in the grocery store near me, you have to enter your ZIP code on the keypad when paying by credit card, and it knows if you lie (yeah, I tried it) and won't let you complete the purchase. They say it's an anti-theft measure--so be on notice that if you steal someone's credit card, you should also figure out where they live before you go grocery shopping at Shaw's with it.

Anyway, I guess I'm not really in a position to complain about loss of anonymity when I practically refuse to buy except with credit, meaning that a long, clear and personalized trail of everything I buy everywhere is available for review.

Nevertheless, I understand the annoyance. It feels sometimes that everyone wants your information so they can try to sell things to you. I've become suspicious of requests for this information if they don't have a purpose that makes sense to me. Sometimes I'll give a fake name!

Not usually Timmy, though, unless I'm online.

Is this misrepresentation wrong of me? I'm going with "not really." Dishonest, yes, but in way that doesn't mean enough to matter much.

*I may be the only person in the world who doesn't work for the post office who capitalizes this, because I have a recollection of it originally being an acronym for Zoning Improvement Plan, and I have respect for the acronyms.