In the hyperhiphop age of cross-platform media-integrated geo-tagging and other such things that sound impressive yet don’t really mean anything or make sense, I naturally find myself near constantly engaged in technoblabber dialogue with devices like my trusty iPhone.

“Integrate with Twitter?”

Sure, why not.

“Create an online account?”

Later, perhaps.

“Sync contact details from Facebook?”

Shine on, you crazy diamond. These are all things I can deal with. I’m a reasonable man. But there’s one exception which always catches me off-guard:

“This application would like to use your current location.”

The rational side of my brain shrugs without a second thought, but the inquisitive paranoid department tucked away at the back of the think-tank has QUESTIONS.

Why do you want to know where I am? I haven’t even done anything yet - I’ve only just opened the application. I can’t think of anything realistically sinister that could be whisked up with this information, but nontheless I can’t shake the image of a man in a submarine quickly slipping his oversized headphones off to sit around his neck, his swivelly chair spinning 180 before exclaiming to the room: “He’s on a bus! Matt Lees is ON A BUS!”. The team spring to life in an instant, tapping away at nondescript terminals of an inexplicably obscure nature with furious immediacy - instantly awakened by this nugget of vital information. He’d taken the bait; and would soon be within their grasp. “A bus…” Petrov quietly mused to himself. “All these years… And we find him here of all place. On a fucking bus.” He grinned to himself as he picked up the intercom handset, certain that this would be a development that would be of interest to the commander.

Unless you’ve got any more realistic suggestions, that is?