There is a scene at the beginning of a little film called "Why Man Creates." One character is asking the other a series of questions, to which each answer is a series of numbers (address, phone number, ID number, zip code, etc etc). After a few exchanges their conversation devolves into just a lot of numbers
Man 1: "7389456?"
Man 2: "934647393"
Man 1: "9374"
Man 2: "3934 8493988 738937!!"
It's a nice commentary on how we have turned everything about ourselves into a series of numbers...on the one hand it's terribly impersonal, on the other hand it affords some privacy I suppose...but in the long run, it's just hard to remember them all.
The other day I called my bank about something and they asked me to provide verification of my identity. I'm glad that they do this of course--I wouldn't want someone else poking about in my bank account information--but somewhere in the middle my brain crashed.
Teller: "last four digits of your social?"
Me: "[yeah right like I'd publish that!]"
Teller: "home phone number"
Me: "[or that!]"
Teller: "Home address"
Me: "[number, street, city] Alaska..." mental blue screen of death! "998...wait, that was my old zip code...um, 99...shoot, I can't remember my zip code! I think it's 99***" (Which it's not by the way, I got two of the three digits right but they were in the wrong order.)
Thankfully I had known all the other stuff so she believed that I was me.
But really, who forgets their own zip code? Especially when they've had it for 7 months?