Kicked Out of Google

I am a lot of things. Some people would just say that I'm "a lot". I'm a middle aged pseudo hipster, a stand-up comedian and actor, gay, and definitely a bit of a technology junkie. So when Google introduced it's "Local Guides" program, I got on board right away. Essentially their version of Yelp, the program allowed you to write reviews and upload photos of local businesses and hot spots. What was also awesome is that they let you accumulate points for everything you contributed, and you could cash in those points for real rewards.

I got wind that Google was having a contest to choose people to attend their first "Local Guides Summit" in San Francisco. If chosen, you'd be given an all expenses paid trip to come out and visit the Google campus in Silicon Valley. You'd interact with hundreds of other notable local guides (let's call them LGs for brevity) and be treated like royalty for a weekend. Well, heck, that sounded great to me, so I put in my application immediately. To stand out, I discussed how I liked to contribute information about important LGBTQ+ hotspots and historical points of interest to Google's database.

Some time later I got an email back. "We're so sorry that we didn't choose you," it began, and my heart fell. That is until I read on: "However, we think you're really great! We're producing a series of videos spotlighting various LGs, and we want to make one with you!" They had me pick out a variety of places in the Philadelphia gayborhoood and community, and they sent out a film crew to produce this video: starring me! Hey, anything for attention.

The video was really great. This wasn't just randos with iphones, this was a legit crew with equipment following me to several important spots of note. The final product was a really slickly produced portrait of how important the history of queer culture is in Philadelphia, and I was really proud of it. It went up online, and cumulatively got several hundred thousand views across platforms. I figured that would be the end of it. Of course, if it was, there'd be no story.

Months later I received an email. "Good news!," it told me. "One of our invitees to the LG summit can't attend, so we'd like you to come out after all!" Before I knew it I was being whisked away from Philadelphia to California to participate in what was sold to me as a wonderful social event to show appreciation for notable LGs who had contributed to the project.

It just so happened that this event was taking place during a bout of extremely awful wildfires in the San Francisco area. Ash was literally raining down from the sky like snow flurries, and many people were wearing masks to stay safe. (Sound familiar?) Nonetheless I was optimistic as I arrived at the extremely fancy hotel where they had booked us to stay.

As I checked in the concierge said "We'll just need a debit card to put a $500 hold down for incidentals." "I'm sorry," I said, "You need a what to do what?" Certainly I'm aware that hotels need an incidental hold when you check in, but FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS? I did not *POSSESS* that much money, full stop, let alone to be put on hold. I went into a panic and sat in the lobby embarrassed as I tried to reach my contact at Google.

After half an hour the hotel manager came over and let me know they had gotten in touch with someone and taken care of the issue. Frankly I was pretty annoyed. This is Google, after all. They sneeze money. I went up to my room and quickly realized the reason for all of this kerfuffle. EVERYTHING in the room had a price tag. The robe, the hangers, the clock radio: if you wanted it, you just took it with you and you were billed. The mini bar (even the bottled water) was on a SCALE SYSTEM, so if you so much as lifted something up to look at it, you were automatically charged even if you didn't use it!

That evening there was a mixer scheduled and despite the fact that I am not really a "crowd person," I went down to check it out. In the line to go into the room where it was held, they were giving out name tags as well as little "passports" and stamps. I was told that the goal was to go into the event and try to get as many people as possible to stamp my "passport". It was then that my heart sank. This felt strongly like the type of corporate team building nonsense you would have to do at a company retreat. I quickly went up to my room to avoid any more of...whatever that was... and settled into bed.

The next morning at a bright six AM I woke up to head downstairs for breakfast. We were all going to be loaded on busses and taken the two hour drive to the actual Google campus. I has received a text message urging me to tag any photos or posts with the hashtag #googleguidessummit. Now it just also happened to be National Coming Out Day. So while I was eating breakfast, I took a photo of the food - all cereals and pastries - and I tweeted: "Serving a breakfast of all carbs and no protein is a gay hate crime. #googleguidessummit." This is a joke. As a gay comedian, this is my sensibility, and to this day you cannot tell me it wasn't funny.

A half an hour or so later I was on a cramped motorbus on the way to the Google campus, and I posted on Twitter again: "Putting 100 people on a bus at 7AM without a stripper pole is a gay hate crime. #googleguidessummit." Again, funny.

Clearly Google did not agree.

Shortly thereafter I got a message from the Google Local Guides account ON Twitter. "James," it said, "We're really concerned about the tone of your posts and we wouldn't want anyone to get a negative impression of the event. We'd really appreciate it if you took them down."

Let me explain something to you. As a comedian, I don't like being censored. If you book me for a show, you discuss with me *BEFORE* the performance what is and is not allowed. That gives me, as an artist, the opportunity to agree or not agree to participate. These people not only didn't discuss any such things, but they also KNEW *EXACTLY* what my sense of humor is, because they literally booked me to star in a video that they produced!

I wrote back and said in no uncertain terms that I would not take down the tweets. At that point, I was kind of pissed. I felt like I had been misled into participating in some kind of corporate event that was going to be more or less focus group exercises, and on top of that I was being chastised for being myself.

Sure enough, when we got to the campus and the event began, it was my worst fears confirmed. We were broken up into groups where we were forced to do brainstorming for Google products. "Let's try and come up with ideas on how we could make such-and-such function better!" Additionally, everyone else there was some do-gooder using Google for the betterment of humanity. "Everyone, meet Apurva! She uses Google Maps to send out alerts when a bridge in her village is broken down during an Earthquake!" "Oh hello, Apurva, I'm James! I like to post catty reviews of 24 hour diners with a photo of my eggs!"

Everyone around me could sense I was absolutely not having it, but I really did try to hang in there. (Mostly because I thought maybe at the end they'd give everybody a Pixel phone or something.) Even when lunch came and they did not fulfill my request for a diabetic friendly meal, I still desperately tried to remain as friendly and kind as I could.

It was an hour after lunch that it happened. We were sitting through yet another lecture about a Google product when there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and a woman I'd never met was standing there looking...blazery. (The blazers, people, the many hideous blazers!) "Hi James! Could I have a chat with you over here for a second?" "Sure."

She pulled me aside. "Listen. It really seems like you're not enjoying your time with us here, and we don't want anybody to not have a good time. What we'd like to do is offer to send you back to the hotel, and we'll even put a room service credit on your account. You can enjoy the rest of the weekend, on us, no hard feelings!" And look...she was right. I was miserable.

However before you think to yourself "What a nice gesture," what you might also want to know is that standing directly behind this woman was a man in a blazer (again with the blazers!) reading "Google Security." "Well," I said to her, "I have to be honest, you're right. This doesn't seem to be what you made it sound like it was going to be. At the same time, there's a security guard standing behind you, so although you're framing it like it's optional, it doesn't actually sound like you're giving me a choice."

"Well James," she said in the most condescending tone I've ever heard, "To be honest we really do have some concerns about the TONE of some of your tweets. So we do think it would be best if you leave."

The TONE of my tweets? To this day I still don't know what in the world about the TONE of my tweets indicated that they thought they needed to have SECURITY present. Be that as it may, I said it was fine. Suddenly I was being *power walked* out of a side entrance to the building, and over to an Uber car that had already been called for me and was sitting there with the engine running.

I sat in annoyed anger as I endured the luxurious 2 hour Uber ride back to my fancy hotel, where I immediately spent $75 worth of room service credit on a bunch of 5 hour energy shots being sold in the lobby. In retrospect I should've shoved everything in my room into a bag and taken it home, but I'm too nice of a person. (How's THAT for 'tone,' Google?)

The next day, which would've been the second day of the summit, I went around San Francisco sight-seeing as the ash continued to fall. I made the best of the trip and was glad to have at least had the opportunity to visit a new city.

That evening while settling into bed I got a phone call from the airline. It was a pre-recorded message saying that although my flight had not been canceled yet, it was very likely to be because of the increasing danger of the wildfires. They urged everyone to reschedule their flights at no expense or additional cost, and sensing this might be the best plan, I did so.

I then immediately reached out to my Google contact to ask how they were going to handle lodging for everyone who had to rebook their flight or whose flights were cancelled. Their response was clear: I was on my own. Now I don't know if you, reader, understand how expensive of a city San Francisco is, but let's just say that the cheapest hole in the wall hotel costs about $500 a night.

Fortunately I was able to arrange to stay with some VERY new friends I had made because of my appearances on TruTV's "The Chris Gethard Show", so I was not completely stranded. The day after that, I made my way back home on a very scary flight surrounded by the red glow of trees on fire in the mountains.

To date I have never received an apology from Google about the way I was treated. Surely it would be one thing if I was a totally random person sulking around or posing a threat to others, but it makes absolutely no sense to treat a stand-up comedian who you both cast in a video for your company and then personally invited to your campus as if he's some kind of danger!

Of course I still use my Google products literally every day, so who's the sucker, really?