Recently, I happened upon a comic poking fun at how our relationship with technology has changed during the last several decades. Just recalling from memory, the first image showed a person using a phone in the 1950s, with concern, bordering on paranoia, as to who might be listening in on the conversation. Alternatively, the modern-day depiction had the caller asking for recommendations from the third party who they simply assume and accept is eavesdropping.

Fear of breached privacy and, potentially, advanced technology has evolved into complacency, provided our signal is strong and we can access social media.

I, personally, don’t have anything to hide. If robots or government agents choose to monitor my calls and browsing history, I imagine there’s a file with my name on it somewhere and a brief profile that reads, “Crystal Albers: hypochondriac, insomniac, prone to purchasing baby clothes, toys and housewares, excessive use of emojis, enjoys ice cream – perhaps, too much.”

Anyone with a smartphone has probably witnessed a notification popping up when you arrive at various businesses, advising Such-and-Such Burger Joint is a popular place to take photos, and you should probably snap one, too.

No big deal – turn off your location setting if you’re unnerved.

Last year, however, I began noticing a disturbing trend with my phone. It’s not the newest smartphone – at least four generations older than the model currently being sold on store shelves – nor is it the most popular brand, but it does seem to have listening capabilities that are, well, more advanced than I expected.

My husband, daughter and I went out to a local pizzeria with a couple friends of ours. We sat at the table, filled with our food, drinks, napkins, silverware, etc., as well as our phones, as is the norm these days.

Throughout the conversation, our friends explained they planned to add a hedgehog to their household. The only hedgehog breeders they could find, however, were in Colorado. I didn’t have much to contribute to this particular topic, as I know very little about hedgehogs. Later that night, though, I happened to be scrolling through Facebook. In-between posts from my friends and family members, was an ad for a hedgehog breeding business just over the border in Nebraska. I hadn’t sought more information on hedgehogs using the search engines on my phone, or really even given that small portion of the night’s conversation a second thought, until I saw that ad. I forwarded the link to my friend, and he and his fiancée subsequently bought their hedgehog from that business.

It seems like too much of a coincidence that the night we discussed hedgehogs over dinner, an ad popped up on my phone – but how did my phone know someone I knew was in the market for a spiked mammal when I had not searched for more information using the device, or even talked about the creatures during a call? Like, I said … disturbing. Also, I guess we reinforced this behavior by using the phone’s recommendation. So that’s on us.

It really did help out in the end, I suppose – but that’s just me becoming complacent thanks to the convenience technology offers.

It’s only a matter of time before the robots take over entirely.

Just kidding … mostly.