The smell of wet concrete and peppermint always reminds me of the day I realized the Google postcard was a lie. I was standing in a rain-slicked alleyway in Chicago, looking at a plumbing client’s…
The physics of local proximity and the video signal I stand on the corner of 5th and Main where the smell of wet concrete after a rainstorm usually signals a quiet day for most; but…
How to Handle a Suspended Listing Without Losing Your Reviews I sit in my office with the scent of peppermint tea and old ledger paper filling the air. My desk is covered in documents from…
I smell peppermint and the faint, dusty scent of old paper when I walk through the doors of a local merchant. I have sat across the desk from hundreds of business owners who are the…
The ghost in the GPS coordinates I carry the scent of peppermint and old paper because I have spent twenty years buried in the archives of local commerce. I have seen the rise of the…
The city smells like wet concrete after a spring downpour, a scent that usually brings out the street photographer in me. I like to walk the blocks and find the glitches in the urban fabric…
How to fix a suspended business profile without losing your reviews I spent three months fighting a hard suspension for a plumbing client whose listing was nuked simply because they shared a suite number with…
The air in this industry smells like wet concrete and the heavy ozone of a server farm under load. I have spent two decades staring at the logistics of local search, treating every Google Business…
A local cafe owner called me at midnight because a competitor had dropped twenty 1-star reviews in an hour using a VPN. We had to do a forensic audit of the user profiles to prove…
I spent three months fighting a hard suspension for a plumbing client whose listing was nuked simply because they shared a suite number with a defunct law firm. Google didn’t want proof of a van;…