Big Sister Siri

It was a feeling that can only be described as a cross between an FBI/NSA intelligence specialist and Madame Curie. I had uncovered who is responsible for selling your information to marketers who send you heaps of junk mail. Not the flyers sent to Resident or Our Friends at …., but the ones personally addressed to you by name.

It was the phone company. The revelation occurred to me while going through my mail on a Saturday at the local Wash and Fold, waiting for my only pair of polyester dress pants to be dry but not melted. I had just moved into my first apartment and was nervous about having my name listed in the phonebook. Something about a woman’s name, address, and phone number strewed about in the white pages screamed, “Hi, I am a woman, living alone without a guard dog or proper karate skills, and my mace is somewhere at the bottom of my purse.”

I provided the phone company with only the initials of my first and middle name and then my last name; this way, my gender would be concealed. In retrospect, I like to believe I paved the way with the whole gender-neutral paradigm before the bathroom thing came to light.

As I was flipping through my mail, I noticed that all junk mail had my name exactly as it was listed with the phone company. It hit me- Ma Bell (aka Vintage Verizon) has sold me out to some cheap marketing conglomerate. For some reason, I felt betrayed. I don’t know why the phone company hired operators whose job it was to give out your phone number and address to anyone who asked for it, so I am not sure why I felt so burned.

I guess part of me thought these solicitors hand-selected me for St. Jude because of my empathy, Piggly Wiggly due to my thriftiness and ninja coupon cutting skills, the mausoleum brochures, not sure why I got those.

Fast forward thirty years, and now theorists say our phone, Facebook, and television listen to our conversations. I haven’t cracked this one yet, but it does seem plausible at times. A few months ago, our family talked about getting a dog, and suddenly ads for dog food and mail order treat of the month club started popping up on our social media.

Each time I searched for a new pair of shoes or other items, the next time I went to any site, pop-up ads would appear with those exact items I was looking at. We dismissed it since we weren’t operating a meth lab or searching how to make a bomb using only Tampax and bubble gum. This was a conscious choice; I liked the convenience of using my mobile phone and being too lazy to type, so I just asked Siri to assist.

The real clutch my pearls moment happened this weekend, and I am left confounded and unnerved. My husband and I were going to Target for some items. We walked in around noon, picked up a few things, and checked out; no rewards card, coupons, or credit card. We were the equivalent of Chain Store Navy Seals; we didn’t even look at our phones and never spoke to a single clerk or customer. About ten minutes after we left the store, I received a text from Target with the heading “Welcome! Learn more about the ways you could save and earn.”.

Coincidence, maybe, but my spidey sense called bullshit, which left me feeling very uncomfortable. The next day, I got a call from our state’s local Health Department asking me if I wanted a COVID 19 booster. The odd thing is the call came in with the Department of Health’s name as if it was in my contact list! Before I could process this, a text message thanked me for speaking to the representative. I have never even been on this website, nor have I ever called them.

The only logical common here is my phone. Although my location is off and my privacy is set to a DEFCON level 4, it was pretty clear Siri or her “people” have found a way to not only track us but to co-conspire with retailers.

The world of mobile communication and the ease of the information on the go makes it easy to not focus on the downside of things. The funny thing is, I can’t figure out how to program my phone to set a reminder to take my 4-minute egg out of the water bath. If Siri could only warn me when it’s recycling day, my library books are overdue, or better yet, alert me when that chatty coworker is nearing the corner; then maybe we can make this work.