Japan has some strange retail outlets, one offering magic love-granting apples, another selling hoof sandals, but when it comes to services, this hard-disk crushing shop definitely stands out. Dark Past Final Disposal Site is a unique shop where you can safely destroy your potentially sensitive digital databy crushing an old drive in a special machine. A growing number of personal computer owners began raising questions about what happened to their personal data when they changed their PCs. When the service originally went viral, critics suggested, most people could probably destroy their own drives by pounding them with a hammer or puncturing them with a drill. But Dark Past Final Disposal Site says their service is all about offering people a safe way to dispose of their drives. Hitting it or drilling through it can expose people to injury, as sharp pieces of plastic or metallic debris can fly off.
Slow to hang up
A reader writes: I called a tech support number for a work-related issue during Covid. The guy was clearly at home and I could hear a dog whining in the background. He got my error code straightened out and we both said bye but before I could hang up my phone I heard: "Who's a good boy? Are you a good boy?" I said quietly: "I am", then just heard laughing and he apologised and hung up, but I wanted to hear his puppy.
In Highbrook, near VTNZ. "Great for mobility scooters and/or pedestrians!" writes Alan White of Pakuranga,
Small world story
"On a Saturday morning 54 years ago there was a knock on the back door," writes Michael Smythe. "As I was 'inconvenienced', my wife, feeding the baby, called the visitors in. When I joined them a man and his girlfriend were apologising – they were at the correct number in the wrong street. Then the fellow saw me. 'What the hell are you doing here?' he exclaimed. 'Um, I live here,' I politely replied. 'And who are you?' It turned out he had just migrated from Sydney where he had very recently made a short film starring a single actor – my identical twin brother. Two years later he phoned to invite us to his friend's place to see that film. Making small talk with our hostess, a few years older than me, I asked, 'So, where did you grow up?' It turned out it was at number 4 of the same Wellington street as my family. We were at number 14."
