When we moved to our new apartment, Cox cable gave us our new phone number. We had only been in the apartment for a day when the phone began ringing almost hourly. First, it was the silence of autodialers checking for sentient beings on the other end of the line. This went on for a few days. Next, we began getting twice daily pitches from Google’s call center asking us to claim our Google listing. When we informed them that we were a residence, we were practically called liars.
“This is a dentist’s office,” said one of the call center jockeys, with a condescending tone.
“I can tell you, with all assurance, I am standing in the living room of my apartment,” I retorted.
“That’s not what my record says,” he shot back.
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m in my bathrobe, performing dentistry in living room.” I was getting exasperated, “Look, can you take me off your list?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can only add notes to this record. You have to go to the ‘do not call’ registry.”
Which we did. Repeatedly. The dentist that escaped into anonymity also had suppliers and patients following him too, but they were decidedly more reasonable than Google, who just kept on calling for months, even though our number is on the ‘do not call’ list and we’d tell them this every time they called. And they always said the same thing:
“We show this number is connected to a dentist’s office.”
One particular time, I lost it. “Actually, this is a fortune teller. You know this is true because I’m talking someone who’s in another universe.” The reply was an abrupt click.
Finally, one of the Googletrons actually had a solution. This was a year after the calling began. All we had to do was write a letter to Google stating that we were, in fact, telling the truth and not hiding a dental office in our two bedroom apartment. We cheerfully did this and looked forward to being blissfully unharassed.
After about a month, we started getting recorded calls. “Your business is eligible for a free Google listing!” Our hearts sank. We resent the letter. The calls kept coming. “Hi, this is Becky! I see you haven’t taken advantage of your free Google listing!” We aren’t going to, Becky. We’re too busy trying to find you so we can hurt you.
We tried to screen the calls but the caller ID started showing up as ‘Private Caller’ from Tulsa and Boston and Portland. The attack vectors came from all over the country. The same excited voice beckoned me to accept my fate as a secret dentist with my own Google listing for my non-existent practice. Becky was not going to be denied. I would become a dentist or wither under her automated onslaught.
Google is the biggest information repository in human history. They can find research on rare medical conditions, direct me to my next appointment, keep me connected. They have photographed nearly every square inch of the planet and have driverless cars. But they can’t take me off a telephone campaign call list after three years of non-stop harassment.
Not because they aren’t competent. A monkey could delete my record. It’s because they’ve become just another bloated bully that isn’t even concerned about doing the right thing.
Dispatches From The Front 