Fancy term or what?
There’s a plethora theses days.
Hackneyed worn bearing.
Tossed  about, misused, bandied endlessly  by titans of technocracy.
ATM’s backlit ghostly white for the visually impaired or suspicious.
Does the blue screen of death await me as I shield my cash-munching laminate from prying eyes?
Platinum elite authorized with cat’s scrawl on the flip side as additional security.
You know the sort. 
Sorry out of order message  is out of order in every sense.
Report all signs of tampering but where?
Decommissioned house stations  topple like bowling pins.
Shady figures lurk impatiently as they crane their necks.
Giraffes of graffitied subways zooming in.
Zero in on hapless victims.
Sprint runner carting off their booty.
Scarlet pimpernel cum roguish Robin Hood with their finger on your pulse rate from afar.
Vultures on the prowl with heightened sensors casting  an Orwellian shadow.
Big brother watching from the fringe.
Birds of prey about to make their mark.
Mark!
Another grubby term from the seedy underworld of spooks and crooks.
Mark you!
Spy rings in every queue.
Streetwise or no.
White collar blue collar - each with it’s own trademark dress code.
Sartorial elegance by birth or thieving snatch.
Yo, enterprising ne’er-do-well!
Opportunity knocks.
Identity theft.
Well, there’s another buzzword with no mute button waiting to be zapped.

 

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