“Few people realize how much their garbage man knows about them (if he wants to know) from what people throw away.”
I’ve watched their collection.
The machine dumps my trash in with everyone else’s. Not much risk of the cops asking those guys for a psychological profile.
“Your garbage reveals what you eat,”
Technically, it reveals what i did not eat.
Some of it. We throw the salads out back for the rabbits.
And a lot of it, i’ll throw out a bag of flour, but they don’t know what I made with it.
“how much you eat,”
Again, they’d have to reconstruct it from what I did not eat and they can’t tell if i made one pan or two.
“medications you take,”
I have a bracelet that tells people exactly what medications i take. I don’t really care if someone goes through my trash for answers to a question i’d tell them anyway.
“all your financial data unless you use a paper-shredder (which is recommended),”
We have a shredder.
“personal notes,”
They’re all electronic, Davey.
“phone numbers,”
Huh? I’m not unlisted.
“your mortgage, credit card information, et cetera.”
That’s financial information, you loon.
“If you think I'm being paranoid and ridiculous, boy have I got a shocker for you.”
You are paranoid and ridiculous, but not entirely wrong. I mean, I have a shredder.