Privacy? You had better get used to not having any.

We’ve got hoards of quasi-reporters swarming around us at all times. Everyone’s a phone tap away from recording you. Not to mention there are traffic cameras and cameras both inside and outside of most establishments. So, what’s a person got to do to have a little privacy?

Well, like I advise my thrill-seeking friends, “If you don’t want to get caught cheating on your woman, how about not fucking cheating?”

Look, privacy ain’t what it used to be, and it never will be. You can whine, complain, and blog until you’re blue. It won’t change the fact that there’s a reality TV show going on, and you’re the star. Do you think the government will demand Apple to remove the camera and microphones from their phones? Are the “no phones in the gym” signs going to have any effect? Nope.

You can deal with this one of two ways:

  1. Be pissed off, and spend your day being paranoid, while locking yourself in dark rooms. (Oh, by the way, there are infrared cameras that see clear as day when it’s pitch black.)
  2. Shrug it off.

Say, for example, you’re about to do something perfectly normal, but embarrassing if other people see you do it–um, say, pick your nose. Now, let’s say a bored teenage douchebag in the car in front of you just happens to be snapping a photo for Instagram at the very moment you go head mining. Then, that little fucker decides (because he watched a Tosh.0 marathon last night) it would be cool to zoom in, add effects and a snappy caption, and then post the picture on Facebook and Twitter as well. Now, your mother calls you.

“Honey, when did you buy that snazzy new car, and why can’t you keep your finger out of your nose?”

“Ma!”

“I saw it on Instagram. Please tell me you didn’t wipe it under the dash.”

“No, I fucking ate it.”

“Language! And, gross. What’s wrong with you? I carry a tiny pouch of tissues in my car.”

“So, if I pick my nose with a thin piece of paper over my finger, it’s OK?”

“Why must you be so graphic? Here, your father wants to speak to you.”

“Sorry, Ma. Gotta go potty. I’ll send you pictures.”

You’re going to do the following things too. Nobody says you need to be proud of them, but you certainly need not be embarrassed by them.

  • Masturbate.
  • Fart.
  • Look at a woman’s boobs or butt.
  • Check out a man’s ass or crotch.
  • Scratch yourself. You might even sniff your finger.
  • Speed.
  • Clip your nose, ear, or pubic hair.
  • Talk to your pets.
  • Say something mean about your child, parent, spouse, neighbor, boss, etc.
  • Take a dump, wipe your butt, and check the paper to see if the coast is clear unless you’re blind.

If one of the above turns into a Kodak moment (Google it, Generation Yers), so be it. The sooner you give no rats ass about it, the sooner people will stop pointing and laughing, and move on to invade a more sensitive person’s privacy. I’m not suggesting you take selfies of the above and post them. Please, don’t. But, learn to expect less privacy, and behave yourself.

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Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.

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