Why Does It Still Seem a Little Obscene to Say You've Googled Yourself?

One of my best friends showed up unexpectedly at my door yesterday afternoon. She came in waving a piece of paper.

"Look at this!" she exclaimed incredulously. "I went to get a copy of my medical records from [a doctor], and a copy of this guy's driver's license was in the middle of my records, not once but twice!"

I looked at the paper she was holding. Sure enough, it was a copy of the front and back of some guy's driver's license. What's more, his last name wasn't even close to hers in the alphabet, so a misfiling by proximity seemed unlikely.

"My phone died, but I wanted to call him and tell him I have this copy," she went on. "Do you have a phone book?"

I looked around a bit helplessly. I remember seeing a phone book at some point, but I could not remember where I would have put it. Who uses phone books anymore?

"I'll just grab my laptop," I said, and scurried up the stairs to fetch it.

We sat down at the table and I typed the mans' name into a Google search. Several entries popped up immediately, and I clicked on one. It happened to be his voting information, which is something I've never seen before in an internet search. As we scrolled down the page, we found his full name, spouse's name, address, phone number, political affiliation, and the number of times he's voted. I was a little shocked with the amount of information I had in my hands.

My friend borrowed my phone and called him up to inform him that the doctor's office had inadvertently given her two copies of his driver's license. (When you understand that she is extremely angry with this particular doctor, you'll understand why she was so quick to make the call. I happen to know she is very justified in her anger, as I am a witness to how she was treated.)

The man was both confused and upset by her revelation, but what probably made him the most upset was the manner in which she found his phone number. She gave him her name in case he had any further questions, and when she hung up the phone, we kind of looked at each other.

"I can't believe I have his driver's license number and all this information about him on the internet. I should have gotten his Social Security number," she joked.

I asked her if she'd ever Googled herself. Incredibly, she never had, so I typed in her name to see what would come up. We started sifting through all the search listings as she got more and more horrified at how much information was out there about her. When we looked up images, she couldn't handle it anymore. She left, laughing that she would have to take care of this.

Well, I don't know. Remember that movie with Sandra Bullock, The Net, that seemed so futuristic in 1995? I remember being fascinated with the idea that you could order a pizza from your computer and never actually have any human contact (not that that idea was entirely attractive). Now public records and all kinds of bits and pieces of information are out there about you, never to disappear. Interesting world. And I have ordered a pizza from my computer, but I went and picked it up in person, just so people could say they had met me personally. You know, in case someone tried to scrub my identity or something...