I'm sitting at my desk, having a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel when I notice this young, blond, pimply-faced kid standing outside my cube with this smirk on his red, puffy-cheeked face. I ask him what I can do . . .
I'm sitting at my desk, having a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel when I notice this young, blond, pimply-faced kid standing outside my cube with this smirk on his red, puffy-cheeked face. I ask him what I can do for him, and he hands me a piece of paper with a Web site address written on it. It looks like an address that a customer would use to access the application that we host.

I ask what this is all about and he introduces himself as one of our company's application developers. He explains that he likes to "kinda hack a little bit" on the side and how he "discovered this" while playing around at home. I take the Web address, type it into my browser, hit Enter and a list of customer names, addresses, phone numbers and credit card numbers appears on screen.

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