A couple of weeks ago, I paid my Verizon bill, and saw a charge that I hadn’t noticed before. It said it was for “Local Number Portability,” and was only 23 cents. But I was curious what it was.

I called the number listed on my bill. Try though I might, I couldn’t talk to an actual human being at Verizon. I went through menu after menu, punching numbers, until I was finally referred to Verizon’s Web site. So I dutifully went there.

After a lot of work, I found a place where I could type in a question. I asked, “When did local number portability go into effect?” The next day, I got back a huge, long explanation, without an answer to my actual question. So, I just gave up. After all, we’re talking 23 cents here.

Recently, on the local news, they had a story about this very thing, and they said that it wouldn’t be available in our area until next May. The Bangor Daily News confirmed that. So now I was confused. Was this really what this charge was for?

I went to my file cabinet and pulled out all my phone bills going back to last May (wouldn’t you know I had just cleaned out my files last summer and thrown out older bills?). Sure enough, I’ve been paying that charge for more than a year (at least).

So I called Verizon again, went through the same array of menus, and again got referred to the Web site. Only this time, I hit zero on my key pad. After some delays and jumping through some hoops, I got an actual human being! I asked her what the charge was, and she told me it was a service whereby you can keep your phone number if you change providers.

So, I asked how does it happen that I’ve been paying this charge for more than a year, and the service is not even available to me. Wouldn’t you know it, this charge is “mandated by federal, state and government commissions.” They just plain have to charge me for it. The regret in that voice was real and palpable. Made me feel bad for Verizon. After I hung up, I realized how difficult this is for Verizon – maybe they could go to jail if they didn’t charge me for this non-existent service.

And then (I’m ashamed to admit it), greed raised its ugly head. How could I get into the business of selling that which is not available. I wracked my brain – maybe the Brooklyn Bridge? No, that’s been sold too many times; no one would fall for that. There must be something.

Then it came to me – I can’t do this. You have to be a huge corporate entity to do this, and own a few senators and congress-critters. And they’re seriously expensive. We’re talking millions. I couldn’t even raise that kind of money if I sold my 9-year-old car. Besides, I couldn’t take the pressure of worrying about going to jail if I didn’t charge somebody for nothing. You’ve got to be a certain type to run with the big dogs, and I don’t have what it takes.

But just think, I’ve paid at least $3.91 (probably more) for a nonexistent service, and if you multiply that by the millions of Verizon customers, you’re talking real money. And I can’t get in on the deal. But it’s probably just as well. With the threat of jail hanging over the heads of Verizon executives, I’m probably better off.

Better them than me. But they sure have my sympathy for the predicament they’re in.

Cindy Carusi is an administrative assistant in the University of Maine Purchasing Department.