Why I Know A Lot About You, David.

Hi. You don’t know me, David, but I know you.

We were both in Toronto last week –me for some CBC meetings, and you because you were being scouted for a sports team. I’ll get into how I know that in a bit.

As I was rummaging around my documents folder at the hotel, I noticed another computer pop up on the same network we were using. It was yours. Normally, all you can do is see the computer name like DAMIAN04. My computers are always named WOPR or Joshua or some variant thereof.¹ But in your case, you gave your computer your own name. Bad move.

Worse than that, you left many of your key folders, like Documents and Music, wide open for anyone to explore.² Since you had a fairly unique name and I had some time to kill, so I let my fingers do the Googling.

Here is what Google told me about you — a random stranger who was obviously staying at the same hotel as I. I learned even more about you later because I friended you on Facebook and you added me. Even though you don’t have a clue who I am.

• You just graduated from a major University. Yes, I know the name.
• You are very well ranked at your sport. Three weeks ago, the local paper said your instincts were “prophetic.”
• I know the address of your home. And the fact that you hate your landlord. (Really, maybe you shouldn’t post that sort of stuff.)
• Your girlfriend’s name is Sarah. And dude, she’s way too young for you. Listen to your mother.
• Speaking of which, sorry to hear about your grandma. I’m glad she’s out of harm’s way.
• I know how much your scholarship was last year.
• I know where you work on weekends, when you got the job, and roughly how much you make.
• You hate speaking in front of crowds.
• You have three siblings. You really hate your youngest brother. I can’t say I blame you. That trick he pulled with your car was crappy of him.
• I know what songs you listened to last Friday night, at exactly what time, and in what order.
• You have an unnaturally strong crush on Alyson Hannigan. This is something you haven’t told your girlfriend yet.
• I know where you do your banking.
• I know where your dad works. Since I also know his position, I can get a pretty good bead on how much he makes too.

For the record, I emailed “David” — not his real name — and cleared the publication of this with him. He said he had no idea his computer was open and is rethinking his policy of friending anyone who asks. Remember, I didn’t open a single document on David’s computer. I got all this information from a Google search and his Facebook page.

This reminds me of when I spoke to an audience of security experts in Stockholm. To demonstrate how even experts forget the “little things,” I opened up a computer I found on the network³ in front of the audience, and walked through his files, including opening a marketing flyer for his security company, promoting how they’re experts at locking computers down. Hilarity ensued.

Oh, and for the record, David ended up signing a deal when he was in Toronto. I’d have bought him a drink if I’d have known where he was going to be. I do, after all, know what he looks like.

Have you ever been at the uncomfortable end of someone knowing more about you than you realized?

1. If you were born between 1966 and 1976, you’ll probably get the joke. [↩]
2. For the record, I looked at the list of your files, but didn’t open any. Even though offers.xls was awfully tempting! [↩]
3. I found the fellow who owned the computer and cleared this with him first, but his computer was genuinely open when I found it. [↩]