One check-in shows the best and worst sides of location-based social media.
My Saturday couldn’t have started any better. I woke up on my own accord feeling refreshed, with the sun and a beautiful blue sky seeping through the window. No alarm. No appointments. No noise. My girlfriend woke up smiling too and after a few lazy moments of staring at the ceiling and rolling around in the covers, we agreed that breakfast at a coffee shop would be perfect and decided to head out to Luci’s Healthy Marketplace.
It might have been the easiest dining decision we’ve made together…ever. Furthermore, we got out of the house quickly without harshing the mood by getting wrapped up in chores, laptops or TV before we left. I thought I was still dreaming.
It was mildly busy when we arrived at Luci’s, with a short line leading up to the counter and scattered one- and two-top tables throughout the store. While waiting to order, I checked-in to Luci’s on Foursquare.*
After checking-in to Luci’s and tweeting out my location, I stepped forward in line to pick up our coffee and pay for our order. As usual, I didn’t think much of the check-in or the resulting Tweet (pictured below), but little did I know, my check-in was already rippling through the social media universe.
No more than a minute later, one of the servers, a middle-aged woman, started canvassing the restaurant shouting something that sounded like, “Adam Fuller!? Is there an Adam Fuller here?”
I turned to my girlfriend, who barely heard her, and asked, “Did that lady just yell my name out?” “Of course not,” she said as she rolled her eyes, shook her head and flashed me a look that added: “You are so dumb.”
”OK,” I said and moved on to pay for our meal. I was relieved that the lady was not looking for me. Her tone and facial expression were not pleasant and whoever she was looking for, it didn’t appear to be good news.
Thirty seconds later, the server came back around, with a phone in her hand, this time clearly yelling, “Adam Fuller.”
Gulp.
“Excuse me,” I said as she huffed bye. “Did you say, ‘Adam Fuller?’”
“Yes,” she snapped back with a flustered tone and a piercing glare.
“I’m Adam Fuller. What’s going on?” I asked.
“Someone has been calling looking for you, and he’s being very rude,” she responded.
A wave of worry flooded my head.
My first thought was that my parents, who were out of town at the time, were in trouble and trying to get in touch with me. But why wouldn’t they call my cell phone? Next, I thought one of my friends was playing a prank on me. But that didn’t make sense. As crazy as my friends are, they wouldn’t be rude to a stranger over the phone to mess with me. Furthermore, there was no way any of them were up before noon on a Saturday.
The worry intensified and compounded by a growing state of confusion as the lady handed me the phone, shaking her head.
The voice on the phone would not give his name and only disclosed that he was one of my Twitter followers. He had noticed my check-in, saw that my bio listed me as a social media professional, found Luci’s phone number and called to ask me what I thought about broadcasting my full name and physical location on the Internet, for anyone to see.
This was the last thing I expected to hear, and made me uneasy on multiple levels. But at least it wasn’t an emergency. I told him that the staff had been offended by his initial demeanor and explained how a more appropriate method of asking a question like this would have been via a message on Twitter, an email or even a direct phone call to me and not the coffee shop (my contact info is listed on my website, which is linked from my Twitter profile). He responded with something to the effect of, “Well you shouldn’t put out your real name and location if you don’t want people doing this.”
I ended the brief chat telling the caller not to call back. He told me he’d talk to me at my next check-in.
Chills.
I handed the phone back to the lady, and apologized for her distress. She said that it ruined her day. I said “sorry” again and joined my girlfriend at our table, where she was waiting for me to start breakfast.
After I told her what had just happened, the food in front of us lost its appeal. We like crepes, not creeps. All of a sudden, the handful of solitary men sitting on their laptops at the tables around us turned into suspects and I found myself looking over my shoulder between bites as I quickly choked down my breakfast burrito.
Social media had ruined breakfast.
I chewed on this experience for the next few hours, and days for that matter. It had called into question so many of my regular, often every-day online practices.
Should I now use an alias instead of my real name?
Do I stop broadcasting my check-ins on Foursquare?
Maybe I need to lock my Twitter profile from the general public?
Given my profession, I found myself in a tricky spot because I often use these tools for networking purposes and to support my professional profile and portfolio. I want to be accessible. I want people to follow me on Twitter. And I want people to contact me with questions about social media issues. Just not like this.
I understand how celebrities or public figures may experience situations like this from time to time, but why would this happen to me? I’m not famous. Or does this mean I am now officially a social media guru? (I guess I need to order new business cards.)
Once I calmed down, I started to piece things together and make better sense of them. I’m not the only person who checks-in, and of all the times that I’ve broadcast my location on Twitter, this was the first time anything even close to this had ever happened.
I figured the guy just wanted to make a point and decided that if he wanted to waste his time calling me at my Foursquare check-ins, that’s his problem. I wasn’t going to let it affect how I use social media.
Fast forward about a week, to a couple days before Christmas. The experience was still pretty fresh in my mind and I had been thinking about how I would write about it on my blog. I was sitting at my desk at the office one afternoon, and one of my co-workers swung by my cube and slid an envelope across my desk. It was a Christmas present: a gift card to Luci’s.
My eyes widened, head snapped up and synapses started firing on all cylinders, trying to figure out what this meant. How did he know I go to Luci’s? We’re friends on Foursquare, and he follows me on Twitter! He must have seen me check-in on Saturday!
Could he have been the guy who called?
Of course not. It just so happens that he went to have coffee at Luci’s later that same Saturday afternoon and noticed that I had been there earlier in the day, because he saw my check-in on Foursquare. So he got me a gift card. A very nice gesture that was facilitated by our connection and use of location-based social media.
I told him the story, and felt bad for even suggesting that he was the follower who called. After he left, I sat back in my chair, processing this surprising twist to the Luci’s check-in saga and smiled, fascinated once again with the sneaky power of social media: in one check-in I had experienced both the worst consequence and best reward I have seen to date from Foursquare.
The downside was obviously that a would-be perfect Saturday morning was rattled by a surprise and inappropriate call from a member of my social media audience. On the other hand, another member of that same audience used my check-in as a way to share some holiday cheer and in effect, brightened up an otherwise shady experience.
Now, the only question that remains is what I’m going to say when I check-in at Luci’s to redeem the gift card. I guess you’ll have to follow me to find out.
*Side note: Why do I check-in on Foursquare? Primarily, to learn about new restaurants and places to go around Phoenix. Check-ins from others give me ideas for new places to visit in the area. I pay it forward and try to tell my followers about places that I think they will find interesting. I also have a larger Twitter following than on Foursquare, so I usually exercise the option to broadcast my check-ins on Twitter too. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, don’t worry. Click here for a video that explains what Foursquare is. To expand on this concept, read my brief take on why anybody uses social media.