The Cable Guy's Guide to Social Engineering

Working for my uncle's cable company over summer break was supposed to be easy money. Install routers, collect checks, repeat. But when I accidentally discovered I could see customers' search histories through the diagnostic menu, everything changed.

I became a spy of sorts, gathering intel on everyone at Northwood High. The Thompsons subscribed to every premium channel. Mr. Harrison, the math teacher, binge-watched reality TV until 3 AM. And Brooke—the actual Brooke who sat three rows behind me in homeroom—had been researching "how to make friends fast" every night for a week.

The next day at lunch, I watched her navigate the cafeteria's invisible pyramid. Popular kids at the top, us regulars in the middle, the theater kids forming their own sovereign nation at the bottom. Brooke drifted between tables, her smile tight, clutching her tray like a shield.

I shouldn't have done it. But something about her searching for connection at 2 AM hit different.

"Hey," I said, sliding into the seat across from her in the library where she'd retreated. "You like that obscure British sci-fi show? The one that got canceled after one season?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you—"

"I've seen every episode. The finale where the main character sacrifices himself to save the ship? Absolute gut punch."

We talked for forty-five minutes. About shows, about how high school felt like one long performance piece, about how the social pyramid was basically a pyramid scheme where you paid with your dignity to climb but the dividends never actually came.

"You're surprisingly cool for a cable guy," she said, grinning.

"I'm surprisingly cool for someone who wears this uniform," I shot back.

Then she asked if I wanted to hang out after school, and my brain short-circuited like a lightning strike. I said yes before my anxiety could talk me out of it.

I never told her how I really knew. Some things are better left mysterious. But as we walked to the ice cream place, I realized something: I'd spent all summer gathering information on people, trying to figure out the system. But the moment I stopped spying and started talking—like, actually talking—everything got easier.

Who knew? The cable guy's guide to social engineering: less engineering, more social. Also, maybe don't stalk people's browser histories. That part's probably not great advice.