Bad OPSEC

I never thought I’d be so bad at OPSEC when it came down to it. Today, on the bus, I’m convinced that I met a Russian spy*. We had a conversation.

spy: *gestures at my knitting* So, what happened to the green one?
me: I finished it..

spy: But you were just working on it yesterday.
me: I ran out of green yarn.

spy: Are you an art major?
me: No, just a working stiff. I was a math major.

spy: Where do you work?
me: [real name of company I work for]

spy: Oh, really. What do you do there?
me: [a real explanation of what we do] Where do you work?

spy: Ah. That’s not important. A competitor. I didn’t know there was a company [in our industry] right here. What’s your name?
me: [my real first name], what’s yours?

spy: Michael. Nice to meet you. I’ll come by if I need to buy data soup.

Then I got off the bus, realizing that while he knows basically everything about what I do and where, I probably don’t even know his real name. Luckily, I don’t have any secrets to give away. None that I wouldn’t stumble over with my clumsy tongue and give more misinformation about than truth. Next time I’ll just say, “Yeah, I’m an art major. Teehee.”

*My team lead thinks he was just hitting on me, which is obviously nonsense. Who would do that.

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