Would you sell your identity for a sandwich?

They're back. Those little slips of paper that get passed around the campus from time to time, with something like this printed on them:

Free sandwich at Sam's Sub Shop! Just bring this coupon between the hours of 11:00 and 2:00 for a FREE SANDWICH. (Student participation required.)

What "student participation" means is a sales pitch for a credit card company. But there's more to this. I tried this once to see what the deal was. The guy behind the table handed me a clipboard with a long application on it.

"What's this for?" I asked. "

"It's just a request for information," he assured me, smilingly. "Don't worry. The company will just send you some information about our services. You don't have to sign up for anything."

Uh, huh. I looked over the application and started filling it out, but stopped when I got to the line that said, "Social Security Number."

"Um, excuse me," I said. "I'm not really comfortable giving out my Social Security Number."

"Oh, don't worry," the guy said. "It's just standard information. We have to have it, though, to process the application and to stamp your coupon."

"But what do you need it for?" This wasn't looking good. The guy behind the table gave me an impatient look. I was asking too many uncomfortable questions. He didn't want experienced adults hanging around, asking questions. He wanted hungry, uncritical, inexperienced students who'd happily fill out anything for the free sandwich -- though no small number of students were giving the applications jaundiced looks. "Wait," I said, reading further. "You need my current bank information?"

"I can't stamp the coupon unless you fill out the application," he reminded me.

I looked it over. "Is this a credit card application? I can see them wanting the number if I were applying for a credit card, but you said it was just for information."

"There's no obligation," he said curtly, not quite answering my question.

I watched as two less critical students who had finished their applications fished their student ID cards out of their wallets. The guys at the table photographed the cards, front and back, handed them back, then stamped the students' coupons.

"Why do you need pictures of our ID cards?" I asked. Those cards at the time used Social Security numbers as student ID numbers, a practice that has only recently changed. They also have student photos and signatures on them.

"The company wants to make sure we're only giving out free sandwiches to students, not just anyone who comes by," the now very impatient guy said.

I thought this over. The information they had on those two teens, now waiting in line for their sandwiches, was as follows:

• Name
• Address
• Telephone
• Social Security Number
• Current bank
• Picture ID
• Signature

Hokey smoke, Bullwinkle! If I wanted to steal someone's ID or clean out their bank account, that's all the information I'd need.

Besides, the "application" included information for a credit check. This looked an awful lot like a credit card application, not simply a request for information. "No obligation" was looking more and more like, "Here's a credit card, try it out and see if you like it." Furthermore, while the company on the letterhead may have been legitimate, there was no knowing whether the guys behind the table were.

Needless to say, I tore up my half-finished "request for information" and walked away. The sandwich would have cost me less than $6 -- if I had any intention of patronizing the participating sandwich shop ever again. My ID is, I hope, worth a great deal more than that.