I may want to cross Studio Square off my list of places to be this winter. Studio Square is not a place for locals, and most of those in the neighborhood who say anything about the place say it has been a detriment to the community. Its late-night rock concerts have contributed to many weekends worth of lost sleep and its large crowds have stolen dozens upon dozens of curbside parking spaces. Nevertheless, with the diminished crowds and calmer climes over the winter I looked forward to seeing if it was possible to have this palatial space seemingly all to myself.

When I arrived this night the place was nearly empty, and for the first time since I have been to Studio Square there was a bouncer at the door who asked for my ID. This was the routine sort of ID-check that happens at night clubs and at extremely busy bars. Everybody gets carded.

I was surprised to see my drivers license get dunked into a device that looked something like a credit-card swiper. I asked what that was and the bouncer -- a perfect gentleman who understood my concerns and toward whom I have no animosity -- said that the device recorded my name and date of birth. He said my name and date of birth were recorded for statistical purposes, and that a lot of places are now "required" to use these devices. I have never seen this device but have no reason to disbelieve him on that count. He said that the data was erased at the end of the night.

"It's just a Palm Pilot," he added, as if it "just" being a PDA somehow erased the weirdness of having my passage through the front door of Studio Square made personally identifiable.

I decided to not let this bother me at the time but days later I find myself feeling paranoid about the transaction. I do not object to having my name associated with my presence at a public place -- this happens all the time, after all, when I pay by credit card. The ID-franking device seemed different. It associated my name with my date of birth. What use might someone make of this information should the device be lost or stolen before the promised erasure of data at night's end? That bit of information is among the fundamental building blocks of an identity thief's business, not to mention potentially embarrassing to some people for any number of reasons. And should I pay by credit card the potential exists for someone to connect the credit card number to my name and date of birth, this creating a grossly insecure situation in which I can only trust the good intentions of the establishment and its employees. Studio Square does not accept credit cards but I assume other places which connect their customers' names to their dates of birth do.

One must have realistic expectations of anonymity in public spaces. As much as I may desire it I believe that Americans have no reasonable expectation of anonymity in public spaces or anywhere else. There is simply too much money to be made in the business of recording people's movements for surveillance to go away. Surveillance devices such as this ID-franking device at Studio Square are relatively crude and obvious instruments, but other technologies and implementations are developing at a rapid clip. I believe we are not far from seeing surveillance cameras stationed in that last frontier of true solitude in public spaces: Activities carried on in toilet stalls, department store and school dressing rooms, and even in shared showers at fitness clubs will be recorded by surveillance cameras, allegedly unmonitored by humans who offer the unhelpful promise that the recordings will be destroyed after a period of time at which they can assume no evidence connected to a crime had been gathered. These sorts of promises (like the one offered by the bouncer at Studio Square) inspire absolutely zero confidence in me, and I would go so far as to say that these promises are worthless, relying as they do on the assumption that these administrative tasks are performed without fail by human beings.

Is this incident enough to keep from returning to Studio Square? Probably not. Whether I return to Studio Square or not is irrelevant. I probably will, but the place would do fine without me, and I without it.