For Pay-Back, Man Points His Fax and Fires

It’s interesting what arrives in the mail these days. One day not too long ago, Gregory Fein opened a plain-wrap envelope and found a brochure inside featuring a portrait of “a half-naked lady, in bondage tied to a chair.”

It was an unsolicited catalogue promoting “Adult CD-ROM.” Fein, a self-described “techno head” who orders a lot of computer-related materials, isn’t surprised his name landed on the company’s mailing list.

It isn’t that Fein, a 29-year-old North Hollywood resident, is easily offended. “Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “I enjoy erotic material as much as the next guy.” Still, this was a bit racy by Fein’s standards. In any case, junk mail isn’t Fein’s idea of a turn on, so he wanted his name off the mailing list.

It should have been easy, but it turned out to be an ordeal. Fein, however, made sure it was an ordeal for the distributor, not for him. This is a tale of how one disgruntled consumer gave a mail-order pornographer a whipping it won’t soon forget. As if inspired by the S & M imagery, Fein left the company begging for mercy--and he enjoyed every minute.

Fein, who works on a TV newsmagazine called “Sightings,” offered his uplifting story (via e-mail, naturally) after reading two recent columns concerning Customer Service Hell. Indeed, readers who were touched by my problematic purchase of a new refrigerator, an experience that was low-lighted by a Job-like 44 minutes spent on telephonic hold, are still sending me their own horror stories.

But rather than form a support group, rather than wallow in our collective empathy, we might find inspiration in the way Fein didn’t get mad, but got even.

All he wanted was to get his name off that mailing list. So he called the 800 number listed on the brochure and made the simple request.

“They told me they couldn’t.” Fein was told that he had two options: Return the response card at the cost of a 32-cent stamp or make a long-distance call to the manufacturer in Maryland. The 800 number just went to a distribution center.

This didn’t seem right at all. Why, Fein asked himself, should he bear the cost? He didn’t request the brochure.

“Thirty-two cents is nothing, but the principle of the matter bothered me.”

Fein asked that they take down his name and have the company call him, or arrange for some other way to get his name off the mailing list at no personal expense.

Seems reasonable, but they declined.

“I worked my way through the supervisors and repeatedly was told they could not do anything. I insisted they could and should find a way to handle this issue. No, no, no is all I heard.”

It was then that Fein noticed that the fax order line was also an 800 number. And it was then that Fein conceived a new strategy for keeping the customer, himself, satisfied.

With a just few strokes on his computer keyboard, a few taps of the cut, copy and paste commands, Fein created a 100-page fax that said “Please remove my name from the mailing list” over and over. He then set his fax modem to deliver the message 10 times--”a 1,000-page fax at no expense to me since it was an 800 number.”

Computers talk to each other. This was a Saturday and Fein puttered around the house. Every so often, his PC would utter a little sound confirming that another 100 pages had been received. Fein says he’d smile and call the other 800 line to see if they understood his message.

“It took 600 pages, about 5 hours worth of faxing, until their fax machine went off-line or was unplugged on their end. I doubt any other orders were received during that time period,” he said. He figures it also cost the company five consecutive hours of toll-free phone time, the ink and/or computer storage for incoming faxes. (This might add a few pennies to your next Adult CD-ROM purchase.)

“When my computer could no longer fax them,” Fein continued, “I called them again and they relented. Two days later the company responsible for the brochure called me and removed my name from the mailing list.

“I politely told them they needed a mechanism for their distributor to take this information down or include a postage-paid envelope for the same.”

Revenge, it is said, is a dish best served cold. But Gregory Fein said he felt nothing but delight.

I suspect some readers, not all, may find his tactics a bit extreme. There are too many tales of the havoc wrought by computer jockeys with evil intentions. When I jokingly suggested that he may have been influenced by the pornographer’s sadomasochistic imagery, Fein pointed out that, had he really wanted to be vicious, there are other simple and very costly pranks one can pull with a PC and a fax modem. He told me about one nasty trick, but we agreed that it’s the kind of information that shouldn’t be printed in a newspaper. Wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.

So I really don’t think Fein qualifies as a cyber-sadist. Still, for some reason, his tale reminds me of that old story about the masochist who married the sadist.

On their wedding night, the masochist says: “Tie me up! Beat me! Whip me! Hurt me!”

The sadist says: “No.”

And they live happily ever after.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.