If Our Current Attitudes Toward Privacy Had Existed Before The Internet

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Wife: Here’s your new credit card. It just came in the mail.

Husband: Great. Let me call up a stranger and read him my credit card number and PIN.

Wife: Good idea. That way if you forget, he can remind you.

Husband: Oh, and I’d better conference in an offshore backup stranger in Estonia. Can’t be too careful.

***

Father (to teenage daughter): We need to talk. I just got off the phone with your principal. She saw a picture of you sitting in the quarterback’s lap drinking Smirnoff Ice wearing nothing but your underwear and a marching band hat.

Teen daughter: What? How did she see that?

Father: It was painted on that hot air balloon you flew over town.

Teen daughter: Why did she look up at it? Stalker.

***

A dark and stormy night. A ship is tossed in the ink-black waves. An ensign spots a lighthouse blinking on the horizon in morse code.

Ensign: Look, captain! A message from the shore!

Captain: What say they, Ensign?

Ensign: D-O-E-S-N-T T-H-I-S M-O-L-E L-O-O-K L-I-K-E T-I-N-A F-E-Y?

Captain: What mole?

At that moment, an exhausted carrier pigeon fights its way through the howling winds to land exhausted on deck.  The ensign unrolls a message taped to its leg and brings it to the captain. It is an extremely detailed charcoal drawing of the mole on the lighthouse master’s thigh.

Captain: A bit, I guess.

***

Radio DJ: Caller 5, you’re on the air.

Caller: Hi, Dave. I’m a big fan of the show. I just want to let all your listeners know that I’m downtown at Lanagan’s Pub.

DJ: By the train station?

Caller: Exactly. To repeat: I, Jimmy Quigley, am at Lanagan’s, not at home, which, frequent listeners will remember from my previous calls to your show, is at 54 Elm Street and contains a large flat screen TV and several computers.

DJ: And why are you telling us this?

Caller: I’m hoping someone will be impressed by how often I’m at this bar.

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