I do not want Google+. I am perfectly content to be in a perpetual state of mild dissatisfaction with Facebook; I have no need or desire to add another social media account to my list of things I'll forget to update. I keep telling you this, but you keep asking. And you're dishonest about it, too. You created a Google+ account for me without my consent, tricked me into linking it to my YouTube account, and let me get this close to permanently deleting four years of videos and comments in an effort to destroy this thing I've told you repeatedly I do not want.
Now you harass me every time I log in. Change your name, you tell me. I like my name the way it is. No, really, you say. You've got options. It's a choice, you say. Then why are you still bothering me after I've told you a half-dozen times that I want to keep things the way they are? Is that choice, which you extended to me, not a valid one? And if I truly have a choice, why does every option result in a Google+ account I did not ask for being linked to my account? Either force the change on me like you always do, or leave me alone—this pretense of choice is a waste of my time.
Google, I'm sure you know about the roughly 2,790,000,000 search results that come up on your popular search engine for the phrase, "i don't want google+". That's around one hit for every three people on Earth. Going strictly by the numbers, there are more people who don't want Google+ than people who don't want to go to war. About 1,880,000,000 results for "i don't want to go to war", Google. I realize I'm bandying numbers and taking liberties with how I use your data, but you've been taking liberties with my data, so I feel it's only fair.
If you'd like to argue that it's my choice to use your free services, that's fine. In that regard, I don't have a leg to stand on. If what you're doing is that big a problem for me, I should take my business elsewhere. I assure you: the moment that precariously balanced scale tips so that the bad grossly outweighs the good, I am gone. But I don't want to leave. You offer a service that makes it easy to share my creativity and connect with people all around the world. That's why I'm telling you all this. You were a better business, Google, when "don't be evil" was a creed to live by. Now you resort to the tactics of snake oil salesmen and fast-talking used car dealers to push your innovations on us. Now it's your decision, not ours, whether or not we like what you have to offer. Don't be surprised if you wake up one day to find someone whose creativity and quality of service are appealing enough for the masses to turn away from you, the biggest name in town. After all, Google, how many search engines have been banished to the forgotten corners of Wikipedia since you showed up? Do people still use Lycos?
Listen to your users, Google. Listen to the people who like Google+. Listen to the people who are screaming at you to leave them alone. And for Pete's sake, listen to me when I tell you for the seventh time that I don't want to change my username.