Getting more than you bargain for at Kroger

By now you've heard about the Kroger Plus shopper's discount card. All you have to do is provide your local Kroger with your name, address and telephone number, and you receive a shiny blue card that fits conveniently on your key chain.

Every time you make a purchase, be it a box of cereal or a six-pack of Bud, your Kroger card is scanned. Then these purchases are combined with your demographic data to create a personal shopper profile.

In exchange for this marketing information, Kroger promises personalized discounts and bargains throughout the store. Kroger personnel also assure that your personal shopping history and profile will remain private.

WHAT IF this highly private information fell into the wrong hands?

You stop by your local Kroger on a sunny afternoon to pick up a box of Frosted Flakes. You pay cash, but use your Kroger card to receive a 35-cent discount. BLEEP!

You smile as you see the discount flash on the register. Little do you know that beneath the generic grocery gloss, your shopping history is created and transmitted silently to anyone with enough money or know-how to crack Kroger's privacy code.

Ignorant that your numbers are floating around in the vast sea of information, you hop in your car and travel home for a pick-me-up bowl of sugary flakes before heading out to the library. Pouring the cereal into your bowl, you're delighted when a shiny prize falls out of the box.

Oooh! A metallic Tony the Tiger figurine key chain celebrating the coming millennium.

You transfer all your keys (and of course your Kroger Plus card) to your new key chain, pack your backpack with books and head for the door. Just then the phone rings. You answer it and an all-too-monotone voice asks you if you're who you are and if you recently purchased a box of Frosted Flakes.

Dumbfounded you say yes to both questions. Then the line goes dead.

You suppose that the government has recalled the cereal for some reason and whoever was on the phone found out that you bought the tainted cereal by using Kroger's database. Your flakes taste okay to you, but you decide to return them anyway.

"Pretty neat use of technology," you think to yourself.

You decide to swing by the grocery store for your refund before you go to the library. On the way there, you get the feeling that someone is following you. You take a few extra turns and circle around your block. The ensuing car follows.

You are definitely being tailed.

You reach a four-way stop near your house at the same time as three identical black sedans. You peer in your rearview mirror to see a fourth black car behind you. As you pull into the intersection, the cars all close in, intentionally blocking your way.

You reach up to lock your doors, but it's too late. One of the drivers is already opening your door and pulling you to your feet. He searches the car, picks up the box of Frosted Flakes and pours the cereal all over the street.

"She's found the prize," he says calmly into his cufflink. "I repeat, she's found the prize."

Suddenly, you're wrestled to the ground and searched for your shiny new key chain.

"The keys are here in the ignition!" you hear one of the thugs yell. You're tossed to the ground and left to figure out what has just happened to you.

It turns out these thugs were part of a terrorist ring that was smuggling small amounts of explosives in cereal prizes around the country. They were using the Kroger database of information to track down their tampered goods.

An outrageous turn of events? Maybe, but before you voluntarily give Kroger your personal data, think about what can happen. No computer system is completely hack-proof. You may find yourself getting more than you bargain for when you zip through the checkout.

Think of all the people you wouldn't want to know what you're buying. Your health insurance company would revel in knowing how many packs of Camels or bags of greasy chips you buy in a week. Or, your soon-to-be ex-wife's lawyer would love to know that you recently started buying Tampax or a deodorant that is "strong enough for a man but made for a woman" for your new girlfriend.

My advice: give Kroger false information. Make some unexpected purchases and see what bizarre combination of coupons you get in the mail. Go ahead, mess up their data and protect your privacy (and your cereal prizes).

As for myself, I've signed up for a new Kroger card so I don't miss out on any discounts. According to their records, I'm now a 35-year-old black man named Sally living at 1601 Pennsylvania Ave. whose phone number is 555-SCAM.

Rebecca L. Ash
JRL 230
11-8-99