In spite of everything, I have to admire Verizon for its singular dedication to leaving no stone unturned in making itself look bad.
My phones are fine, but the other day I found a dirty plastic bag in the mud, a foot from my paved driveway.
It was a mammoth new Yellow Pages directory. The cover was torn and some pages wet, but once it dried and I shook out all the crud, it was OK and I was satisfied – even willing to forget about White Pages. I figured Verizon gave them up as a compendium of errors too expensive to correct.
But a few days later, a man called asking if I’d received my books, and promised me White Pages, as well. And he kept his word.
My street’s gutters were soon strewn with white plastic bags. My particular gutter wasn’t, so I swiped my neighbor’s bag because he wasn’t home.
Sure enough, it was White Pages and a little Companion Yellow Pages. What’s with that, anyway? Does Verizon really think we let our fingers do the walking through a reference library when we need a plumber?
Miraculously, my listing was updated – calling Verizon twice about it obviously paid off. I’m a modestly published author and sometimes blog controversially, so I figured it’s time to delete my address and make potential assassins Google me to find me.
Verizon finally dropped my sister’s ancient listing, but my mother’s still showing at the house she sold 5-6 years ago, as well as her new address – with the same number.
I’ll give Verizon a pass on the crazy deliveries. They probably hire kids who consider the job a paid joy ride to fling heavy objects.
But the books’ content is pure Verizon. Why can’t they start by matching the books to their billing files? Don’t they have people who could do that?