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Silicon Valley view: With AOL, breaking up is hard thing to do

By Mike Cassidy
Knight Ridder Newspapers

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SAN JOSE, Calif. — Who says it's impossible to say goodbye to AOL?

I did it. I canceled my account.

I think.

There was one thing Jay in the Ogden, Utah, call center said at the end of our talk that has me worried. Something about how for a month I can reactivate my account simply by signing on. Does that mean if I sign on to see if I can sign on, I'm an America Online member again?

This is not a baseless worry. AOL has something of a reputation as a stalker. If AOL can't have you, nobody can.

It's like a bad romance thriller.

AOL is feeling unloved, having lost 2 million dial-up subscribers in the past year. The company has gotten in trouble in Ohio and with the Federal Trade Commission for refusing to let go after customers say goodbye. We all know the desperation. Maybe if I send one more bill, he'll come back to me.

AOL and I have been together for a long time, which I suppose is a recipe for a messy breakup. Sure, I was a little hesitant to call it off.

I remember when AOL and I first hooked up a decade ago. A 1200-baud modem was all we had, but we couldn't have been happier. Every day was new.

Oh sure, there were flaws — screen freezes and such — but they were easy to overlook amid the good times. We grew together — 2400 baud, 56K, audio streaming, buddy lists. No one talked to me the way AOL did — "You've Got Mail."

Yes, there were rough patches. When we met, AOL was a wisp of an ISP with 300,000 subscribers. Now there are 25 million.

Back in the late '90s, AOL seemed too busy for me. Some nights, I couldn't get AOL's attention at all. My attempts to sign on were rebuffed. Other nights, AOL would embrace me for a few minutes and then kick me off.

But we were working it out.

I hardly noticed the broadband services at first. Sure, they were newer, faster, sexier. But they were more demanding, like twice as much money a month.

Then again, whoever said an ISP was for life? Was it really good for either of us to keep going through the motions? Me, barely noticing the monthly credit-card charge. AOL promising a new spark with version-this or version-that. Meantime, high-speed DSL had trimmed down. Its cost was competitive.

It was time. But first I had to get through Michael, the AOL customer-service man. He pleaded (How about two free months?) and I crumbled. But I felt cheap. I'd already promised myself to another (at least for a year).

I did the cowardly thing. I sent a fax asking that my service be canceled. I backed it up with a written letter. But days later, I was still able to sign on. OK. I couldn't help myself. Ten years. Remember?

And so I called again.

"You've been with us for so long," Jay in Ogden said. "I can't believe you want to leave." Why? Why?

I only had a moment to decide, and I decided to lie.

"I'm getting rid of my computer."

Silence.

"Did someone tell you to say that to trip me up?"

"No. I thought of it all by myself."

"There is no response here for that," Jay said, reading his "please don't go" script. He mentioned a very cheap plan for e-mail only.

"I don't have a computer."

"You could use it at the library or at work."

It's over, Jay. I'm sorry.

I hung up, a little wistful. A little sad. Until days later when a postcard arrived from AOL.

"NOTICE," it read, "You are still a valued AOL member."

Oh, no.

Mike Cassidy is a columnist with the San Jose Mercury News.

Copyright © 2003 The Seattle Times Company