Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, July 17, 1994                   TAG: 9408100004
SECTION: EDITORIAL                    PAGE: E3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Margie Fisher
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

KIDNAPPED

Anyway, one beautiful day not so long ago I cheerfully agreed when a young man stopped me on Campbell Avenue and politely asked me to share my opinions on long-distance telephone service for a survey he was taking.

Mistake!

What was the average amount I spent each month on long-distance calls? he asked. Oh, heck, I don't know. Under $15, over $15? Probably over. Under $30, over $30? Maybe, some months, over. Would I say I was very satisfied, somewhat satisfied, somewhat unsatisfied, very unsatisfied with my current long-distance carrier company? Perfectly satisfied, thank you.

Would I be interested in receiving information that would show me how I could save gobs of money on long-distance service? Sure, send it along. Fine, he said, if I'd just give him my name, address and telephone number ... . OK, I said.

Mistake!

I hurried on to the bank, and completely forgot about this young man and his "survey," until about two weeks later I received three fat mailings in one day from a long-distance phone company.

"You're now part of the . . . family! Please read on and see why you've made a smart decision," began one letter. The others contained this company's calling card, assorted propaganda on "the services you requested," and notice that I was already connected and could start dialing for dollars in savings right away.

I was furious. Mostly at myself. I'd always been so careful to follow all the rules for consumer self-protection: Never buy anything from a telephone solicitor. Never, never give your credit-card numbers to anyone in person or over the telephone, unless you initiated the contact and know the recipient.

Here I'd been duped by the friendly survey-taker. And, worse than feeling foolish, I felt like I'd been sucked into a modern-telecommunications remake of "The Body Snatchers."

I called a toll-free customer-service number the company had thoughtfully provided, and raised a rabid ruckus. Oh, they were so sorry; they would disconnect me right away. I dug out a toll-free number for my old long-distance provider, to find out what I had to do to get re-connected with it.

They confirmed that I had been cut loose by their little family, and said I'd need to contact my local phone company to petition for readmission. So, at least until the business office at C&P - oops! Bell Atlantic-VA - opened the next morning, I was technology's lost and pitiful orphan.

Next day, a nice woman at C&P commiserated. Yes, it's awful, and all the long-distance companies do it, she said. They set up booths at fairs and festivals, and promise two dozen long-stemmed roses or to put your first-born through college if you'll just answer a few questions. Before you know it, you've been switched, shanghaied, schnookled.

You mean, I asked, the slogan now is reach out and grab someone?

Afraid so, she said. But, she assured me, C&P would see that I wasn't charged for this unauthorized switcheroo.

Actually, my next phone bill showed two charges related to this trapeze trip through the fiber-optics jungle: $5, on the day I was kidnapped. Another $5 on the night I called the culprit in a rage, and it apparently passed me on to something called VarTec National Inc., which I'd never heard of. I called C&P again, explaining it all again, and another nice woman said to ignore those charges when I paid my bill.

Meanwhile, I assume my old long-distance provider has reclaimed me, since I've been getting "Welcome Back" notes, plus promises of new calling cards, new and improved services, premium points for airline travel and other prizes, and better-than-ever rates.

At any rate, for a person who doesn't even understand how your basic telephone works - I think this falls into the category of "things you should have learned in school if you'd been paying attention" - this has been an unsettling experience.

Where is the Federal Communications Commission, the State Corporation Commission - where's Ralph Nader - when consumers need protection from a friendly guy on Campbell Avenue?

There ought to be a law, if you ask my opinion.